capeandcowllogs | Sorceress, Doctor

Sorceress, Doctor

WHO: Raven and Huang
WHERE: Central Park
WHEN: May 16
WARNINGS: nope
SUMMARY: They have a session! It's a session. P.S. a session.
FORMAT: paragraphs of words made of letters

Though he was feeling much better about how his offer on the comm had gone, he concluded he shouldn't get ahead of himself. There was plenty of time for things to go wrong, and plenty of time to catch and correct those things, too. Huang got off the bus near the east entrance of Central Park, moving toward the location he'd named, conscious of both himself and other people as he did so. She said she would be there, and he didn't like to keep people waiting.

It'd been years since his general certification, and despite the fact he placed an emphasis on the difference between his current profession and a clinical psychiatrist, they received the same general training. He mentally reviewed what he knew about this woman as he walked quickly: half human, half something else. When he was in high school, he'd read lots of bad sci-fi. Half alien? It seemed at once ridiculous and fascinating. He'd have to adjust his attitude; he knew there were aliens among the people who used the communicators, so there might be half-alien people too.

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As a breeze blew through the park, the tree that now hovered above the table she sat at rustled it's leaves, casting pinpointed beams of sunlight onto her. It was a decent day, no bad weather to be accounted for - and Raven found herself oddly at ease with this situation.

First the visit with Batman to determine what she should do, then visiting the defense attorney, and now speaking with a therapist. It gave her a warm sense of self about what she was doing - finally keeping to the right thing instead of a morally gray area. Given yes, she was nervous about meeting a complete stranger to talk about something she rarely shared with her close friends, but...
It could be worse. So much worse.

Her eyes lifted to the man who had just entered the immediate area - and as her habit, began to read the emotions he gave off. Calm, collected, yet reserved in his own way - worried for the well-being of others. Something told her that this was the man.
She stands slowly, gracefully even, and takes a few steps in his direction to gain his attention.

"Are you here to meet someone?"

He smiled at Raven and nodded, offering her his hand. "George Huang, as you might have guessed."

It was something perhaps unconscious on his part that he was actually broadcasting a slow and subtle sort of peaceable empathic pulse. Someone with shields might have noticed it like the tide at the beach. In turn, Huang's muted empathic impression of Raven was almost subconscious, interpreted in his mind as nothing more than input from the regular five senses. Gracious, but private, like a shut cloak.

"Shall we?" Setting his bag on the bench near the table she'd been sitting at, he withdrew a pad of paper and a pen.

She gladly took the hand he offered, her grip rather soft, even flimsy in comparison, and shook his hand. "Desdemona, and yes, I suppose I had."

She found him to be exactly how she had pictured him in her mind - at least in regards to his stature and how he carried himself. For some reason, however, her mind had painted the picture of him as a brunette - it was something she mused to herself about for a few spare moments before taking a seat across from him.

She suddenly felt at a loss for words though, the moment she noticed the pad in his hands. Raven wasn't a fool, she understood the concept of this, but in simply seeing that, her mind fell blank.
"... Is there anything in particular you feel that I should start with? I have never done something like this before."

Desdemona. Kiden. Teddy. He'd had stranger names given to him before, but each of the three mentioned had one aspect to them or of their problems/issues that defied conventional psychological explanation, not to mention treatment. Yet he felt immensely hopeful, almost energized, and suspected he would enjoy this part of his work more than his police work. Then again, superpowered crime would surely pose its own challenge... he mentally shook off these extraneous thoughts and focused on Desdemona.

"Then you should know I do tend to ask a lot of questions, nothing you have to answer unless you feel comfortable doing so. For example, and it may not be important or even relevant to whatever else we discuss, I noticed you never mentioned what your other heritage was."

Alright, let's begin with the heavy-hitters. Her fingers ran through her hair slowly, the hood of the cloak she wore falling onto her back to reveal her complete face to him. She even looked uncomfortable with this topic - it was written all through her eyes as she stared at him.

Yet, there was a part of her that was curious about how he would react to this news.

"I have no problem with answering any questions you present to me." a lie, but she would answer them anyway. "My heritage is of demonic nature."

His mind went immediately to past cases he's seen where people have been convinced they are demons, and what kind of actions they usually use that as justification for, but no: he reminded himself, this was something different. Examining Desdemona, frankly curious, he let his hand drop from his chin to the pen on the pad. And he wrote... three Chinese characters. Which wasn't so much about assuming she couldn't read it as habit. He added her name in English and then, rapidly, another small, practically illegible comment.

"Have you always known about this?" He strove for professionally interested rather than just plain curious, but he was both. People still had trouble growing up biracial; he couldn't imagine her situation held too much similarity.

His reaction surprised her substantially - she had expected the session to either be ended right there, or to be mocked for what she had said. Instead... he continued? Intriguing. Perhaps this was the correct thing to do after all.

Her body language seemed to calm even more, her elbow resting on the table with her chin laid gently in her palm.

"Yes - I was raised with the understanding that my father was a feared demon, and that I was to restrain and withhold my personal emotions to prevent his power coming out in me."

Part of him hoped she wasn't having a joke at his expense. But if it came to that, that was a bill he could afford to pay. He knew the risks inherent in posting such an offer to the communicator, and patients who lied were far from uncommon. What was important was that he neither disbelieved nor believed without question, and they'd only just begun.

"Emotions being connected to demonic power-- this sounds like a demon in the Judeo-Christian sense, as opposed to the Asiatic cultures. Is that... similar? To the actuality?"

"Such as in the Seven Deadly Sins, yes?" her eyes shifted to his again, some form of deep-rooted pain beginning to spark in them before she looked away again. Her eyes instead fell onto one of the shadows dancing across the ground. It provided enough distraction for her to get the rest of it out without becoming too emotionally involved in it.

"Ultimately, if it came down to it, he would take his orders from someone such as Lucifer, I would imagine. So yes. That has never actually occurred, to my knowledge, but..."

She shook her head slowly. "Look, I am aware all of this sounds completely ridiculous. I have others who would easily back me up on my claims."

His pen scratched very quietly on the pad, noting down some of her reaction. This was obviously a painful subject and the more unusual aspects didn't help. No wonder she'd never done this before. It was a bit of a wonder she was doing it at all, but in that respect, she reminded him of 'patients' he had seen before.

"I believe you. It's-- all very new to me, but I'm with you," he attempted to assure her. "So you were raised away from your father, and taught to suppress his powers in you?"

I believe you. The words caused her head to snap back, eyes fixating upon his with a wide-eyed expression. For many moments she was silent, taking in what he was saying to her. No, that was something she really hadn't expected to actually hear come out of his mouth. Combined with the air of honesty he gave off... it seemed to unsettle her for a moment.
It usually took more convincing than that for someone to say those words to her, and mean them.

"Y-yes." her eyes still remained in their rather shocked state, yet her body language once again began to ease. "That lasted until I reached the age of eighteen."

By that look, not many people had listened to her before. He wondered if he should be more questioning, but his limits of belief had truly been blown open by this City. On some level he also wondered if he weren't in a coma or something, but there was a distinct lack of Bowie or scary television girl in his life.

"This is only the beginning, right?" Huang smiled slightly at her. "Lots of time for my belief to be tested. What happened when you were eighteen?" Teddy said he'd been... sixteen, was it? They were all so young.

Her eyes finally fell away from him again, one of her nervous habits showing up in the form of playing with a bracelet on her wrist. She hated talking about all of this, but perhaps she hated it for a reason. It was best to get it out to a professional while she had this rare chance.

"When I turned eighteen, my father began to reign his terror on the place I was raised and the people there. Along with that, I was able to feel his hold growing. And so... I fled, to find someone who would help me, and to save the ones back home from any harm."

Edited 2009-05-17 05:07 (UTC)

He glanced at the bracelet and wrote a short notation on it, but continued along the line they'd been talking on. Later on, or if they had any future sessions, he could ask about it then.

"And you found help?" Superpowered people led tumultuous lives, to be sure.

"Sort of?" uncertainty was filling her tone, her facial expression matching it. "To put it simply, I found those who were able to help me restrain him temporarily, on many occasions. He still lives, and still has power over me."

There's another pause of hesitation, and she tugs on the bracelet, causing it to turn on her wrist. No real meaning to it - just habit when she was speaking about something she didn't care for. "He, in effect, killed most of those I grew up with, along with my mother."

It was hard to stop translating this into a less superpowered equivalent. He decided it might prove useful, the idea of Desdemona's father as a more metaphorical demon and strong emotions as demonic powers, but it was, in the end, an essentially limiting viewpoint. Keeping it in mind for reference wouldn't hurt, though. Some things were the same anyway, like the loss of a parent.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Huang said quietly. "How many times have you fought him?"

"I... have quite honestly lost track. In a physical battle, I would assume three, possibly four times? However I struggle daily with the demonic blood pumping through my veins, and the darkness that comes with that." she shakes her head softly, a light sigh escaping with her words, "It is as if he never leaves, and overall, I suppose he never will."

"I simply... struggle to maintain my humanity, to be normal."

He nodded, writing down something.

"How would you describe the struggle? As a struggle to remain calm or unemotional?"

Here was where the alternate history broke down, and where he really started to wander without guidance. It was not racist-- specist?-- to say that Desdemona's temperament would be affected by her half heritage, and that was something that simply couldn't be changed.

"As in... a struggle to remain in control of my own body, my own movements..." her voice fades again as she tries to decipher the best way to explain this to him. She could understand how this would be difficult for any non-hero to comprehend, hell, even the regular heroes had a tough time understanding. But someone who came from a world without said heroes?
At least he was trying.

"The demon part of me lies dormant - I meditate, attempt to keep myself calm, and avoid situations that may bring it out into the open. When it is released, however, I lose full control over myself - my physical appearance even changes drastically. I act completely different, and harm those around me."

His brain provided another metaphorical equivalent, alcoholism, which was more useful than it might have sounded. It was hard to understand that a soft-spoken young woman like Desdemona could become violent, and the occasionally transformative aspect of inebriation reminded him of her description, if not the addiction part. Though maybe that was applicable as well, he wouldn't know.

"Has this happened before?" He could tell by her description that it had, but it seemed a better way of asking outright if it had happened more than once.

There was a slow nod, followed by what sounded like a hollow sigh - she even sounded run ragged when talking about this subject. The pain she caused - the lives she destroyed... even if they weren't technically her doing, they were still burnt into her memories.

"A few times, once being only a few weeks ago in particular." she paused before her blue eyes lifted up to his, filled with a very dark, depressed emotion. "It is what has been bothering me the most - I spent weeks without actually explaining the details of what happened to anyone, not even those closest to me. Now I am coming clean, in many ways. It is a struggle."

"It's often hardest to talk to them about..." He'd been about to say 'things like these', which was slightly ridiculous because he would have meant 'things like your demon part of yourself manifesting and hurting people'.

"So a few weeks ago, something happened and you lost control. We can pause here for a while, if you want."

Well, he seemed to be understanding thus far, to the best of his ability - perhaps he would do well in this City after all. Oddly enough, she had been quite worried about that when it came to him. So many could be easily overwhelmed by the other individual hers - if he could handle her past, he could handle the rest of it as well.
It made her smile a bit.

"Thank you. I do appreciate it."

Hopefully, spending time with the police would keep him out of trouble. Then again, the station seemed to attract its own special kind of explosive trouble, and when there were only about seven officers... trouble is very difficult to keep out of in the city.

"Whenever you're ready," he said with a slight returning smile, taking the opportunity to write down a few more notes. They continued to be a mix of Mandarin and English, observation paired with the details she'd told him.

She had tried to not be bothered by all of his sketching away on the pad of paper, however the moment she got any sort of glance at exactly what he was writing, her curiosity was piqued. She remained silent about it, however, deciding to instead turn the subject onto something else for a few moments.

"I would imagine a place like this is rather overwhelming for you, yes?" she smiled warmly in his direction, trying her best to start up some sort of small talk to fill what might become uncomfortable silence. "Do they have any sort of heroes in your world like they do here? Batman, Spider-Man, any of them?"

The term 'fourth walling' would barely make sense to Huang, were anybody to say it to him, but he had a sense of delicacy about these matters that also had to do with ignoring the unhelpful parts of personal interaction-- that a person could be fictional in any sense, a person he was talking to and interacting with, was absurd. Therefore... he'd ignore it. And be careful about times like these.

"Some days, it's just like home, and some days, I can barely accept what I read or hear," he admitted wryly, putting his pen aside. "We know of Batman and Spider-Man, but they don't exist otherwise. It's curious to me that they're so legendary they span universes." ... one way or another.

Ah, something she could easily talk about without feeling too overwhelmed in constant negativity. So he had heard of them in his world - interesting. She had heard of such things before from others, and it made her beyond curious. A world without heroes was just... absurd to her - then again she did grow up in a universe with hundreds upon thousands of them.

"In the world that I am from there is no Spider-Man, however Batman is very real. My mother was from Gotham, the city he hails from - I have even worked along side his protege for years. The concept of a place without Batman..." she trails off momentarily, appearing to dig deep for her words, "... is just unthinkable to me. So many in my world draw comfort from knowing of his presence."
She shakes her head.
"But I am getting off topic of what we are supposed to be doing. I apologize."

"We can talk about whatever you like." He answered easily. "That in itself can be helpful, and the subject is difficult." But he also remembered her request that they do this session as soon as possible. That was possibly something he should ask about.

"We may not have superheroes, but life seems somewhat quieter, so there's fortunately less need for them..." His smile grows a bit pained, thinking of his own work. "... I suppose that's arguable."

There is a slight smile at that offer, but she knew better than to give into that. She could go on for hours about those around her, without ever talking about herself if someone gave her the option to - Terry, Tim, Peter, Bobby, Malchior... would all get gushed on verbally by her if the opportunity presented itself. This man didn't need to hear all of that.

"I would imagine that with a lack of actual superheroes comes the lack of supervillains as well, though, correct? Just as you do not have caped crusaders flying through the air, you do not have the rampaging powered murderers that go after them." there's a pause, "That I would not mind, I'll admit."

He could tell by her smile that she wasn't going to take up the offer, but if she had an agenda, she was still content to fill a little time with superhero smalltalk. This was fine with him; it was a part of getting to know one another, which was vital for building trust.

"No, no superpowered crime. All the things I've read that happened here would never happen -- or would have a very difficult time happening -- in my world. I don't know which I'd prefer."

It was all a clever ploy on her behalf - ask about what he was comfortable with from his world, what he was used to, and base what she initially told him off of those such things. It allowed her to know that interdimensional demons were hardly something he would easily grasp hold of. It was obvious that he would try, however... which did bode well for this doctor-patient relationship they had going.

"I suppose such things would even out in the end. For superpowered crime, one needs superpowered crime fighters - without it, you don't. But the tug-of-war that is good versus evil will exist everywhere."

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Sorceress, Doctor

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/dropkicks herself and work so hard