Theatre of the Mind

Was an unusual day in Detroit as a pair of reavers bicker their way down the street. Molly, his hand loosely gripped around Rai’s wrist all but dragging her along. Rai didn’t put up too much of a fight, rather she was just arguing back in hushed tones of another language. Molly all but wrenches a heavy slab of a door open into a waiting room and pushes Rai into one of the sofas. He raises a hand as Rai tries to get up, argument only continuing and gaining volume as they were no longer in public and free to get louder and ruder.

“Aish. Quiet. The guy said he can fix you. You’re seeing him!”

“I don’t need fixing.” Rai huffs, crossing her arms in a grumpy slouch.

“No. You do need fixing. You’ve become… a coward?” Molly thinks on his words for a second. “Turbatae.” Molly clarifies to avoid Rai’s further rage at the far less acceptable word.

“I’m going home. I have flowers that need water.” Rai gets up, smoothing out her skirts and moving to leave, only for Molly to catch her by the hand and haul her back into the seat with a bit more force.

“Hiding away at the redbloods farm won’t help you.” Molly groans, staring daggers into Rai who just proceeds to cross her arms and admit defeat. “You haven’t gotten out of your armor in three months.”

“I don’t need to get out of it. There might be demons to hunt.” Rai’s accent grows thicker as does her volume.

“You also refuse to hunt for three months.”

Rai fell silent before finally fully relaxing into the chair. “You are going to talk to the magic mind man like Seamus did. He says before he did his magic ‘Psic-othy’ thing he couldn’t sleep for months without seeing fake things. If you do not set up time to see him regularly, I will continue to drag your ass back here, so help me god.”

“I’m sure psicotherypy did great things for Seamus. Seamus… THE HUMAN.”

“ I am told our brain is still human. So he can still fix you.” Molly groans, growing impatient as he then just moves to the other door, puling Rai with him. The reaver pulls the door to the office open, pushes Rai in callously. “Fix her!” He shouts before slamming the door behind her.

Rai freezes, blinking a few times as the Tullianum’s walls seem to close in on her. The familiar aching in her back and ribs had her jumping forward a bit to dodge silver-laced cat-o-nine tails. It wasn’t real and she knew it. This wasn’t Dis and there was no clergy here. She brushes her fingers along the burn scarred wrists just to show herself there were no copper cuffs to keep her complacent. “I-I’m sorry. I’ll just go.” Rai murmers, refusing to take a look around for fear she really was in Dis and this really was the horrible prison again. She reaches for a door handle only to find that Molly had pushed a chair up against the door knob to make opening it without damaging the door almost impossible.

She groans. Last thing she wanted was to break the mind witch’s door by accident. Looked like she was staying whether she liked it or not.

The days had become longer, the burning inside searing stronger, and the penniless guise of the life he had been left sundered. There were a great many things in this life that he could have come to be grateful for…oh if only it were his life. His eyes opened and he sat up. Shifting the sheets aside, he looked to the clock which read 0717, the time he normally woke. He had no need for alarm clocks, he woke at the same exact time every day, it was almost as reliable as the atomic clock. The same schedule was something of a blessing. There were no longer any long nights jumping from rooftops, crashing through windows or getting broken ribs from the latest bastard with some semblance of superhuman strength. No getting your teeth ripped out by a Calcikinetic. No more relying to biannual appointments with Loa in order to regenerate your teeth and arthritic bones. His body had only been seventeen years old and yet the trauma and wounds he suffered would have kept him in constant, crippling pain.

  Who am I?

  The question went through his head, a new ritual that he had taken to since the birth of this frail, counterfeit world. It would seem fitting for a philosopher, though to the young man whose feet touched down on the carpet, it had a more important meaning. It was the first thing he asked himself every day and the answer was always the same… for now.

 He bathed then dressed himself in a white shirt, one which had small thin pockets, areas where he could slide some of the thin armor platings he used to use in his life long before. Slippin the armor in it filled the shirt out with a strange sense of bulk in some regions, offering better protection to his more vital areas. Then he dressed in the same for his legs, wearing what appeared to look like some kind of leg brace which affixed to both legs. Finally he dressed himself over to be presentable. Over all of this was his three-piece suit. A black dress jacket to contrast against the white dress shirt, the small handkerchief in the breast pocket a royal purple in color which matched his vest. The light seemed to shed light like water as it traveled over the vest. Polished dress shoes and a custom watch, silver in color save for the face of the watch which was an accompanying purple with strange rose off-colored hands which depicted the time. He navigated his humble home, styling his hair and preparing himself for his presentation to the world for the day. After collecting his things he would go to work.

 His practice was quite unassuming, the building itself was once an old church, though half of the building itself was dilapidated. An old gothic architecture that met the hands of time and started to look worse for wear. Some of the building itself was even taped off due to areas that had fallen, though the renovations to some areas kept it almost an isolated haven. Through the ruined entry there was a set of large iron doors, which when opened would lead one to witness the stark contrast between destitute and design. A very regal and traditional area awaited, with walls of mahogany panel being adorned with sconce lighting to give a soft and gentle glow to the room. From this waiting room many of his patients would come and sit moments before their appointments. An empty crescent desk sat, awaiting a secretary as it emerged from the wall and curled out with a computer and a lone seat which remained unoccupied. A bathroom was present off to the side and behind the secretary’s desk was the door to the office.

  Letting himself in he would close the doors behind him and set himself up for the day. Stepping up to the secretary’s desk he placed a small wooden plaque up which confirmed that he was still without a secretary, reading “Please be seated!” As he opened his office he stepped through, his eyes scanning the room, still feeling like it was a foreign area each and every day. An open concept, large and expansive with tall ceilings. A grand fireplace of traditional make consumed space by the wall, a set of chairs and a large couch rest upon an exquisite patterned rug. The walls themselves were occupied by countless shelves, each with the same uniform spine lining the entire area. Each book held nothing on its spine save for a lone symbol and two letters. A ladder was secured onto a trail which would bring one to the second floor, something that was simply more space for books, these ones of a different kind. His eyes scanned the busts and small sculptures that he had on display, and the door he instructed patients to use to exit the facility, to ensure their privacy and not needing to pass others in a waiting room. Then his eyes moved towards the desk where he would do most of his notes and reviews.

  Walking over to his desk he opened the side door to the lower compartment, then removed a false back, revealing a small ledger and a bottle of unopened brandy. Removing the small ledger he replaced the back and closed the door, sitting at his desk and taking a deep breath in.

  “Let’s begin…”

  The first patient was an E.G, an elderly man who was combating his PTSD from years serving the country. A fine man but his anger was always being inflamed by an increasing paranoia. The next patient was a kindly woman that suffered from DID, and her condition made it quite difficult for her to make any progress, due to the shifting trauma responses. Then you had the third patient who he simply thought of as the living embodiment of a Woman in White. Then he had his fourth, fifth and sixth patients. Perles, Freud, Jung, all of them fell within patters and prospects to choose from, yet so many people just falling into little labels. Many of these people were decent people, trying to survive in a world that was wrong to them…but not this last one. This last patient was a bit different. He had a very clingy personality, he seemed to attend himself with what was increasingly dangerous. He possessed an uncanny intuition to find what was dangerous, and oftentimes he pursued that course of action. His closest friend was a point of great interest to The Doctor, as the described traits and behaviors of this individual were subtly foreshadowing darker events to play.

  “Well so you are a man of culture. You should come, Calvin plays first chair violin. He’s excellent I-I think you guys would get along. You’re both very smart and I don’t really…have anyone else to invite.” The man spoke. He was a shorter man, a little heavier, though he had an almost infectious aura of happiness and cheer around him. Though he spoke, The Doctor learned a long time ago that there are some things that speak louder than words. He was lying, partially concealing the truth. You could practically see it

 “Tempting, but in the sake of professional conduct I must decline. It is not exactly ethical to befriend one’s clients. I think you should perhaps review what we discussed last sessions and attempt to broaden your horizons. Seek friends in a more conventional means, and keep vigilant for those who might not be such great ones.”

 “No see, you’re just being humble. I can tell you’d be a great friend. Calvin thinks so too! I mean…honestly yeah okay. But you’re smart and you get me and…It’s really for Calvin. He doesn’t have friends other than me.” There was the truth. He could see that one. This man was so concerned for his friend. It would have been the most heartwarming story, if this Calvin had truly any care in the world for him. Even with his forced accent he couldn' tmake that sound good. He was attempting to formulate his words, an explanation of how to guide this man to understanding, though fate had other plans. The doors were thrown open and a young woman was virtually shoved into the room. The doctor sat there, shifting as he looked to the pale woman, then looked to the man he had been seeing.

 “I apologize sir, That gentleman seems very eager to have words. I’ll reach out to schedule your next appointment.” He said with a soft smile, motioning for the door. The man was shocked, and a flash of anger was seen, but he sighed and nodded before walking over to the door and exiting. This woman, on the other hand, attempted to open the entrance door, feeling it to be locked. The woman’s reaction was to stipend up, her face was still mostly one he'd not taken in yet, but he could see the level of stress she was under just by being locked in a foreign place.

  “No need to go. You’re obviously not at your peak performance. It’s anxiety inducing, being thrown into a different environment with unknown rules and an entire lifetime of differences. Close your eyes. Trust not what you see. Trust in what you feel. Trust in what you hear.” The Doctor said with a slight sigh as he stood up. With a soft walk he made the journey over beyond his desk and using an old vinyl record player to produce ambient noises of seagulls and waves crashing. “As individuals we are conditioned to respond to stimuli of many different kinds. When we are anxious these stimuli can be misunderstood by one of your senses. Focus on what you hear, not what you see…” He continued to observe the woman’s posture, her movements and ticks she might have. He didn’t want to just walk up to her and provoke her to act like some kind of startled animal.

Seemed she wasn’t getting out of this one so easy.

Rai was really a sight to behold to those who’d never seen a reaver before. Skin paper white flowering with black laced markings. Her horns spiraled upward like a gazelle and the only bit of color on her was the bright snake-slit eyes lit up a bright blue. Her hair rolls over her shoulders into smoke as she leans back, as if to take a step away, but rather plants her feet firm. More of a stubborn reaction to her inner thoughts as she knew one step back was akin to running away. Closing her eyes didn’t really do much as it didn’t block out any of her vision whether her eyes were open or closed.

What did snap her out of the lucid state was the record player. The doctor was saying many big words that she didn’t quite understand, but the curiosity at how a disk made the sounds of birds had her straightening her stance and focused in on the record player. Like a cat watching a bird from a window, she was intrigued simply because she just could not understand how such a thing worked. “Molly was right, you are very smart.” Her voice was heavily accented in what could have been mistaken for eastern european of some kind.

A spaded tail lashes behind her in curiosity as she gets brave and ventures closer to the record player before wincing a bit, as if the wrong step had struck some kind of raw nerve, forcing her tail to drop back to it’s resting position. The damage to her body still hadn’t fully healed and from what Molly said, it may never. Walking wasn’t wonderful and every so often the wrong move would send a pain down through nerves she was sure were dead before this incident. Instead flared to life through injuries caused by silver.

For all Rai knew she was sitting in some grand inquisitor’s office… except instead of flay infidels alive he fixed their brains? Did this mean he was going to pop her skull open and poke around in there? If he was he might find her brain in a state of decay incapable of recovery as were all her internal organs. Then again that guy got to leave without his head being opened like one of those metal cans Cebra had that contained soup. He just said a lot of words that made no sense to her. “You really are a wizard! She motions to the box with the bird noises. “Does this mean you think I need to be fixed too?” She was only able to somewhat catch the meaning of what he’d said. Rai knew ‘not at peak performance’ meant she wasn’t doing very well. The rest went over her head.

She finds the couch just like she did Cebras and resists the urge to plop over sideways on it and get really comfortable. She was still a bit touchy with the Doctor, as if watching his every move ready to bolt, but she did keep being distracted by a few things here and there such as the record player and the occasional desk toy. “Seamus told Molly that Psich-po-thery” Rai stops for a minute trying to make sense of the word before giving up. “Seamus told Molly you fixed his mind. So now Molly thinks you can fix mine.”

Getting a better understanding of what you're working with is an important part of the profession, or at least he believed that himself. You can learn a lot from studying the individual as if they were their own subject within school, becoming so familiar with the individual that even that the most subtle change could be alarming. Now that he was finally looking at this woman his eyebrows raised slightly in the center, a slight mix of concern and confusion.

  Skin so white it was practically porcelain contrasted by dark markings, not too dissimilar to tribal tattoos, though they branched out with a little more space between lines. Dark hair matched with two curved horns protruding from her head curving in just a specific way. But the look of curiosity on her face and the It was like looking at the record player. She was quintessentially a clueless Maleficient, which was saying something. The Doctor smiled and watched as she stepped over towards the player. His hand slid slightly down the desk as he casually reached into a drawer and seemed to search for something, his eyes not drifting from the woman too much. The spaded black tail seemed to move excitedly before she took a step which caused it to fall, returning from excited to the malaise of everyday struggle.

  "I see." He said with a chuckle, two creatures with strange accents sitting in a room in the middle of America. So she had heard about him from someone else who knew a client. Why didn't that surprise him? Someone had talked about him on the outside, this would have been extremely good for business, had he been attempting to be marketing. He would need to resolve this as a compliment rather than a betrayal. He removed his hand from the desk drawer and closed it, walking over towards the record player. Her eyes finally caught his attention and something in the middle of his abdomen began to burn, wriggle and writhe. He didn't like the feeling at all, it felt like it had when Pandora's Jar was imbedded within his spine all those years ago.

 "I'm not a wizard. Though you seem to lack some of funda-....hm." He paused for a moment, recognizing it would do no good to insult the abrupt patient. Shifting his tone a bit, he went from speaking to an adult to that of a child. "I am not a wizard. I am someone who helps people through the scary parts of life, someone who helps heal. I'm someone who teaches how to be strong in the mind." He reached over and pulled the small needle off the record, then moving it backwards and reapplying it to the vinyl.

  "I can help you. I can teach you. It's apparent you're not from here... that other man, is that Molly?" The Doctor asked as he pointed to the door where she had been abruptly pushed through. He walked over towards the door and opened it, poking his head out. When the door barely budged, he cleared his throat and stepped back. He ran through his schedule in his mind. Nobody else for today, which was good. He imagined the area on the other side of the wall, how the chair would be angled. Simple enough. With a firm kick he was able to force the door to force open.

 "Mister Molly. Join us for a moment." He said as he proceeded to clear his throat. He'd hold the door open for the strange man and then close it once all three were inside. Walking over to the desk he would take his seat. "There's details to cover that I don't believe that your friend here is capable of ironing out." He reached down into the left side of the desk, opening the small door and withdrawing a leather book, one with the same emblem upon it, but no initials yet. He would place the blank book onto the table and then look over to Molly, offering him to sit.

 "So we'll start with the basics. I need to know what I'm fixing. She's lacking some fundamental skills in the mental department, no sign of any predisposition. It's as if she'd been left in the basement her entire life. Stunted, not deficient. She's got the personality of a Labrador retriever and the mental capacity of an 8 year old." The doctor said, laying things out there as it was. He didn't even want to discuss payment yet because he didn't know if this man was going to be equally difficult to handle. Sure, it was perhaps racial profiling, but the truth sucks. Most people who come from a foreign place have similar cultural ignorance. Besdies, he'd long ago embraced the fact he was a less than perfect person.

RaI was a strange mix of intrigued by her surroundings and still flighty. She did however work her way to trying to make eye-contact with the doctor, but rather was trying to make sense of him. She supposed he was human, just with a black pit for a soul. It was like what she imagined humans experienced in the dark of night with no stars or lanterns. A soul was a soul and a human was a human no matter how strange it looked she supposed. The only part about Humanity that disturbed her was what he could possibly be grabbing from that desk. The balk was subtle, only a shift in her weight and a light setting of the jaw. She was watching him like a hawk and the pressure a stressed reaver exuded would be enough to cause the lights to flicker and all cell reception to suddenly go blank.

Only when the Doctor moved away from the desk did she seem to freeze, all breath ceasing and eyes fixated and unblinking. A visible relaxation no human was capable of, so motionless she could be mistaken for a statue. “So a nun then?” Rai asks, not necessarily understanding the idea of someone who could heal who didn’t work for the church. “Wait. So a teacher?” She asks, gears in her mind turning as quickly as they could.

The thought of Molly still hanging around made her sigh. “Yes, that is Molly. I am sorry. He is… alot?” Rai trips over words not necessarily knowing the best way to describe her friend other than that. The last thing she expected was for the human doctor to kick his own door down, however this did not startle her as much as it likely should have, only perking her attention even more.

Molly also did not seem as disturbed as he barely looked up from his wood carving project. He was taking a knife to a small chunk of wood, the shavings conveniently dropping into a decorative flower vase. He was not in the typical reaver armor but rather in his usual rough spin tunic and lace front pants paired with a rather worn set of leather moccasin-style shoes. He was far less marked than Rai, black markings only creeping up over his collarbone and up the sides of his throat. His horns spiraling back like a great ram from his many blonde braids and pleats. His eyes the color of burning fire and fury. “Aish, swear to god, Rai if you broke that door I-” Molly stops short when he finally looks up to see the black pit of a man. He raises an eyebrow as soon as he is addressed. “Right, details. Sorry. I am a bit better with the common tongue.” His accent fades slightly as he shifts from addressing Rai to addressing the doctor, but still tints his words.

As soon as he enters the door he stiffens as soon as he sees Rai standing.

“Aish! Sete!” He orders, pointing to her.

“Fatue te ips!” Rai growls back before plopping down on the doctor’s couch. A bolt of pain jolts up her spine, earning a bit more of a wince from her. “Lenose, vetus Irrum.” The last bit grumbled under her breath in the strange language of the reavers. It mimicked latin, but sounded a bit more harsh and had some differentiation, but the roots remained.

“It’s like she doesn’t want to get better.” Molly groans, taking a seat next to Rai as she locks on to the Doctors movements as he goes for the drawer again. “I am afraid you are looking at the default for a reaver in that sense. Not the personality of dog part, but the mind, yes.” Rai shoots Molly a defeated look as soon as she is able to peel her eyes from the produced book. “This is not the problem that needs fixing. She is afraid of everyone now.”

“I had an accident.” Rai interjects.

“An accident is falling off a horse. An accident is not a public burning and.. Well… everything else Dis does to us.” Molly cringes a bit before shaking it off. “We are not from this world. Dis is very different and well. What do you want to know?”

The common tongue was something of a different thing for him to hear. He was proficient with Latin, and he could pass for understanding a little Hebrew, yet this speech appeared to be a bastardized version between the two. Granted Aish actually means "Joy" in the Korean tongue and Sete actually means thirst in Italian. He didn't imagine that he was telling her to enjoy being thirsty while pointing at a chair, unless their physiology was a whole new level of fuck-all. The cadence and the rhythm of the dialect however definitely felt more Latin inspired. The man had said Aish before, and not in the context of a word one would use to describe a subject, rather a placeholder of expression.

 "Be nice. He may be old, but he's only who cares enough to try and get help for you." The Doctor said as he looked to Rai, a small smile on his lips before then turning to look back at Molly. He looked back to Molly and folded his hands together, lacing his fingers as he leaned back and seemed to observe Molly from behind the tinted lenses of his glasses. "Dis you say?"

  His mind flooded as he tried to figure out any information that was left in the vast knowledge that Sin had left behind when it marred his mind and soul. There were very little fragments, though very little of it revolving around the ones called Reavers. He could ascertain they were undead in nature, or some form of reborn and resurrected species. the young woman barely breathed at all since she had come in, he was partially assuming that she was only doing so to try and keep him at ease. The stereotyped demonic spade tails were something of an interesting touch. Appearing human, tribal markings. Perhaps a ritual marking or tattoo. Demons across the multiverse and beyond were all connected to Sin, yet he knew nothing of them. Perhaps they did not inherit the sins of the demons. for that to be true that means the canceling agent would be similar to the blood of Christ. Of course, symbolically you would need a sinless platform, or one that was under divine protection. One that...

  His heart stopped. Sin wouldn't have known anything, and thus neither would he. They were beings without sin. Blank slates. only one such creature as that exists so consistently within the vast scheme of realities. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. His comment earlier about the new environment was entirely situational, but now he was beginning to see just how true that was.

 "I think nothing but good things of Reavers. I think it's a shame what their subjected to, and I wish things were different. However, that is not a cause I can do much of from my position here.  But it looks like she's very compliant with just about anything. This suggests to me that there is an impressed upon standard, or perhaps even a deep level of loyalty instilled into them. How far does this go, is it suggestion, or is it full on Zealot's indoctrination?" He wrote the first question down, then moved on to a new line, writing another question down. "When did you first notice that she was becoming afraid of everything?" As he was writing this question down then he turned to look at Rai.

  "What name should I call you? I'm a Doctor so for now we'll you can just call me that." He said. If there was going to be a move to remove any form of conditioning, there would need to be a struggle with authority at some point. By enlisting his title first, many people perceive this as a declaration of superiority or authority. She knows his title so over the next few weeks he'd need to acclimate her to his actual name as well, and slowly migrate her thinking process towards using that name rather than a title. He continued to write within this new book, taking in the details of what was spoken.

Molly pauses upon realizing the Doctor had actually understood her vicious insult before cracking up in laughter. He’d never had a human understand reaver tongue before, or ever even actually try to understand. Their rather crude social customs were hidden behind a language no human in Dis ever tried to translate. A dangerous skill for an inquisitor, he thought. Luckily it seemed the Doctor had no desire to make them burn for their insolence. Rai however was frozen, that alone was enough to spell death for her where she in Dis. ‘See? Wizard.” Molly laughs to break the tension.

“Not a wizard, he said.” Rai corrects, shaking off the awkward revelation that her and Molly could no longer safely swear at each other as was customary.

“Whatever. Dis is a shithole. The.. um… Comleeance?” Molly stops for a second, trying to work out the pronunciation. “Obedience is not at all new. I am afraid I am an outlier from the delusions we are cursed with when we are sent into this world. Reavers naturally protect humans from demons, it’s an urge we can’t really do much to suppress. A reaver cares less about his own life than he does for a human he has never met, if we had been left alone with that, we wouldn’t have such a problem.” Molly retrieves his wooden figurine and knife and begins working his wooden block again to quell boiling rage he was only doing somewhat well to keep down.

“I wouldn’t call it a delusion.”

“It’s a delusion when the church decides to enforce what does not need to be enforced to turn their protectors into a race of slaves and we just take it or die. You continue to defend them yet the moment you displease them, a fate worse than death upon you. She’s been like this ever since what happened in Terni ” Molly points with his knife before going back to skimming away bits of wood. “Now do you want to tell him about Terni or will I?”

Rai sighs, deciding she may as well say her piece, because if she made Molly do it, there was no telling which of the Doctor’s walls that wood working knife was going to end up in. “Um. I am Rai.” She gives a light wave, before her hands return to her lap. “So, me and Cebra-.”

“Her redblooded ‘friend’” Molly gives a light wink that Rai seems to be oblivious to.

“Right. We chased the striggan and ended up back in Dis. We were near Terni, near the north border. So I dropped Cebra off and went out with a few of the scouts so I wouldn’t be as um… noted?” Rai thinks on the words for a minute, not really coming up with a better english equivalent. “While out we found a camp of demons readying for a siege. They were too close to the city to be going for any other city and were bigger than any other camp I’d ever seen. Their scouts caught us, but I managed to get away back to Terni to warn the others to defend.”

“And I sent her to Rome.” Molly interjects, stopping his scraping of his knife against the wood, blinking for a moment before gripping his knife all the bit tighter. “I should have gone instead.”

“The bishop in Rome didn’t believe me. He said I had to have been mistaken and sent me away.”

“He believed you alright. He knew it was coming.” Molly growls, a reptilian rumble starting up as he takes a deep breath to quell himself.

“I don’t think he did. I really think he thought I was mistaken” Rai shrugged, still defending the man apparently. “Anyway, I didn’t want to leave Rome without coming back with no help. So I tried to talk a white cloak into breaking rank and coming to help defend, but he was too loyal. He turned me into the inquisitors.” Rai grips her own tail hard, stumbling over her words for a moment. She was frozen for a second, blinking quickly as blood wells up at the corner of her eyes. “I. Um.” She still stalls, flexing her burn scarred wrists.

“You can skip what you need to. I do not wish you to cry.” Molly interjects as relief floods over the painted lady. “Tell him about what your red blood friend found in the cappella Sistina.”

“Oh. My scroll. Every reaver in Dis has a record, but we never get to see it. Cebra found mine. When the church needs more reavers they.. Um. conscript some.”

“They feed babies to demons.” Molly clarifies bluntly, not even looking away from his project. “And the day of the Terni siege, we were painfully low on reavers, weren’t we. Ever wondered why you never see orphans under two?” Rai flinches away before Molly quiets down. “sorry.”

“I was human. I could have lived. I-I. Cebra made sure I didn’t burn and we did defend Terni well enough that not everyone there died and we were able to get home. Er, here. Molly came with us.”

“And ever since she’s been afraid. Your people do not beat and burn their protectors here. So long as Rai stays here, she will live. But does she act like it? No. Instead you hide away at the redbloods house only coming out at night because you are afraid a human will see you. You wear your armor even though you need not to and really should not. For christ’s sake your bones are still exposed, yet you feel the bite of leather and bronze against them for fear of being caught out of order in a place where no such order exists.” Molly crosses his arms, leaning back in the chair. “We have landed in a paradise, yet she still chooses to live in hell, and it is killing her. Doctor, please fix her.”

Such a pity that this wasn't the opportunity to learn more about these types of folk. One could always manipulate the conversation to achieve those ends, but that would place him in a world of new problems, problems that weren't directly connected to the overwhelming ones he had now. It wouldn't serve well for him to be tied down to a coup or revolution when he was already at odd with Erebus. He was avenging a child, after all. Perhaps when that was all over he could offer some assistance to the people there. For now, this young woman, this Rai, she would be an appropriate subject to test and see if one could be delivered from such subliminal programming.

He smiled at Rai and nodded his head, accepting her choice of name and penning it down. As she began to divulge her story, introducing a new subject in the story, when the gentleman interrupted once more, laying a less than subtle hint. The doctor looked at him, his face emotionless for only a moment before his eyes snapped back to Rai and he nodded with a slight smile. She began to speak of Terni, even for a moment his own stoic appearance seemed to fade, showing an instant interest in that name. He had been there once, for Thrones. Their entire organization had their heart in Rome itself. His heart began to beat a little faster, his own emotions brewing as his face returned to the same slightly interested look. The Umbria region wasn't known for demonic invasions. His mind snapped back to the devil that walked the streets, and he felt that empty put of a soul sour for only a moment within his chest. Then to see this woman extend her scarred wrists.

"Let us establish a rule. Nobody in this room is EVER commanded to speak. When you speak, it will be because you are ready to speak. No other reason." He said with a smile, followed by a sigh as he heard the knife scrape wood again. His eyes kept flicking over to the knife instinctually, forcing him to actually attempt to keep contact with Rai, which in turn made his very soul squirm. Despite this all, he had no real issues remaining composed.

The story continued and he couldn't help but notice that the gentleman had taken Christ's name. The more analytical part of his mind was slowly checking off information, jotting down trivial. His days as a vigilante may have been behind him a bit, but there was always the part of his mind that watched, waited, ripped information apart and reconstructed it. Always asking himself what information he had truly learned from only a sentence or two. These weren't Demons of the catholic faith or demonology. They'd not likely even be something of the Ars Goetia. In fact he could argue these weren't even demons at all. No, orphans being sacrificed to make protectors was a very harrowing revelation, but one he understood. He had thought it earlier after all, only a child is innocent enough.

"Only Humans are so pitifully stupid as to fight fire with fire." He muttered to himself, a slight slip of the tongue as he shook his head in disappointment. It was disgraceful to think that humanity from any realm could be so damnably stupid. A familiar ache came from his soul, not one of squirming or scrutiny. This was a bit more a dull ache, like the pangs of a starving man, a dull and droning hunger. This gentleman had quite the inspiring plea, bearing his heart to a small degree, emotion that was almost too human to be facsimile.

"Hm. Well it now occurs to me that I never asked your name. Incredibly rude of me, I apologize. What's your name? The doctor said, making a slight detour around the subject for a moment, making sure he established the grounds of civility and actively including this man into the conversation. It was easy enough to deduce his name. It's only been used half a dozen times. "A pleasure, sir. Now we have some good news, and some less than preferable news. Do we have a preference of which we address first?"

Rai remains fully stilled, no air filled her lungs, she did not blink and she did not have the sway of a usual human keeping their balance whilst upright. She was like a wraith unintentionally staring into the Doctor but never quite able to make eye contact. Neither reaver really could pin-point where the eyes were on a man. They knew it was the facial region but they never quite made it perfectly. Thus they almost looked as though they were looking through the Doctor rather than at him. An off putting feeling for even normal men without such interesting and unique souls.

While Molly seems to perk more at the conversation at hand, Rai is more content to play with the occasional desk toy or have her attention pulled away by outside noises.The Doctor had said she didn’t have to speak if she didn’t want to after all, and right now she was more than content to let Molly do the talking. He was better at it anyway.

Moly pauses to see if Rai would acknowledge the Doctor, but chooses to continue in her stead since she seemed to be zoning out again. “Aish, Tell me about it. At Least the humans here are a little bit smarter. Even if they, for some reason, stand there and watch you fight whatever monstrosity plagues them rather than run.” Molly gives a shrug.

“Some of them even try to help.” Rai offers.

“Eh, some try to help. Some come closer with those boxes.” The other reaver reasons, as if trying to think back to his most recent interactions with humans. They were sparse at best with the occasional public fight. He did perk as the conversation turned more to him. He puts the knife back in the leather holster in the small of his back to devote his full attention to the Doctor. “Ah, I am Molly. No need for apologies. I apologize about the chair. I was sure she’d just run back out. I’ll make you a new one.”

Rai quickly turns her head at Molly’s offer to bring one of his awful chairs. She shakes her head at the doctor mouthing ‘no, it’s bad.’ under her breath. Molly is oblivious to this. As soon as his head turns in her direction, she pretends to be zoned out again, looking out the window, every so often glancing the doctor's way. Almost comically obvious, yet still completely under the radar from Molly.

Molly sets the finished statuette on the Doctor’s desk, a small wooden horse about three inches tall. It was crude and full of miss-carvings and uneven shapes but it was at least recognizable as a horse of some kind. He then settles back elbows lazily on his knees and hands fiddling with his claws, the leather straps looped around his wrists like bracelets, even the laces near the shins of his pants. “Never been called sir before.” He laughs. “Lead with bad news. Good news makes it sting less.”

“Is the bad news that I am beyond help?” Rai squeaks out.

“You are not beyond help. You are still alive, you can be fixed.” Molly corrects. “Perhaps the good news is that he can.”

"The bad news is that this will take time. So, patience will be a virtue when dealing with these subjects. When it comes to the mind if anything is done with haste it ends up laid to waste." He said with a slight sigh. Of course, this confirmed that she could be "fixed". He hated that expression with a burning passion, so much so that he almost rolled his eyes every time he heard it. He looked over to Molly and then back to Rai and took a deep breath in.

 "Good news is that this is going to be incredibly educational for Miss Rai. My methods do not fail those who wish to be successful. They must want it for themselves though. It is not something we can do." He said with a smile and a nod. He reached over to his drawer and pulled it open, removing a small slip of paper, focusing on it as he wrote. This place is paradise, couldn't be any more telling if you had tried. Deception at play perhaps but unlikely. A blatant disregard or interest in the convention or the established order, a free spirit trapped within material flesh. No, this isn't a lie, but it is the persona. Where is your Anima centered. There it is, yes. You've already told me.

 "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and a type of Bipolar, I would assume it to be Type II, unless the mania comes out in other forms. Survivor's Guilt and a combination of benign egocentrism, one that has previously cost you dearly. Nothing too difficult. I'm prescribing you to a Hobby Therapy Group, Doctor Geoff is a wonderful man. Ex-militant. You'll get along with him famously." He described as he wrote upon the note. He then reached out and took a small business card before turning and then extending the card with a small smile... to Molly. After which he would stand up and begin walking towards the ladder.

 "As for you, Miss Rai. You are going to be having regular meetings with me weekly. We'll establish smaller goals which will eventually lead you to success. Starting..." He then moved the ladder slightly as he stepped up the first five steps, then reaching up and plucking a book from its space, stepping down and striding over to Rai, placing the book in front of her. "With education. We will be learning Braile, to compensate for your apparent disadvantage. We will simultaneously...or rather we will work on your coping skills, and hopefully eventually allow you to understand everything I'm saying to you." He said, though the contents of his words seemed snarky, his tone was very warm and compassionate. Truth was he didn't mean any of it maliciously, he had simply forgotten about half-way through that she was not as bright as her compatriot. The business card to Molly? That was intentional, he didn't believe the man would take him seriously anyways, the greatest statistical chance was of him denying anything was wrong and a slight chance of an indignant storming out, then the eventual realization that he had been right the whole time, which would make him jaded and either seek help or never show up here again...which would mean cleaner floors....

“I do want to be like I was. Or at least close to it. Could I perhaps be better than I was?” Rai might not be the most intelligent woman alive, but she did at least know that what she was before likely wasn’t great either. This fear was not new by any means, she just failed to keep it down like she’d used to. Before all this, she never swayed, no matter what fresh hell she was staring down. But now all she saw was clergy and pyres and ashes. Rai, fully paying attention as the doctor came up with many words that described what was wrong with her… oh wait that was for Molly?

Molly takes the card, processing what was said for a moment. He knew what trauma meant… but usually he was the traumatic event. “Oh. I will get a doctor too then?” Molly raises an eyebrow reading the doctor's handwriting with a squint. Not from not being able to read it, but more from thinking it all over. Something was wrong with him? With a light shrug and a sigh. “Okay. I will see this Doctor Geoff. Right now?” He asks, looking to Rai for clarification, to which she gave an equally as confused shrug. In her mind, Molly was already smart. He was the second smartest person she knew… well she guesses he was now the third smartest person. Impressive before she realized she really only knew four people and she really hadn’t put much thought into where Aria sat on that leaderboard. He was, however, the smartest reaver she’d ever known of.

For her, however, she got a book! Some new human language? “Oh, Thank you!” She beams, hesitating to reach for it for a moment but eventually realizing she was allowed to take it. She does, setting it in her lap and opening the book immediately, crossing her legs to better support it before cringing and choosing to set the book on the arm of the chair instead, flipping to the first strangely textured page. A book of no writing but textures, how odd. “I understand most of what you say.” Rai admits, still trying to make heads or tales of this strange book. “Some of your words I have never heard before though.”

Molly leans over to sneak a peak at Rai’s book before making a strange face at it. “Is blank?”

“Not blank. It has pictures.” Rai defends, running her hands across the page.

“Where?” Molly begins to worry that Rai has actually lost her mind rather than found it as she’d hoped.

“The kind you can feel. Here.” Rai offers to let Molly feel the book, which he does.

“Yes, it’s carved but. Hey, if it is a book to read, it’s a book to read.” Molly gives a light shrug, every bit as confused as Rai was about the strange language of dots.

“But yes. Understanding things. I can kind of understand people. I do learn a lot of things. I learned what a lemon was… and a porn star.” Rai smiles, proud of having learned more english.

“What’s that?” Molly asks, incredulously.

“You don’t want to know…” Rai suddenly becomes sheepish, remembering what was explained to her. If a corpse could blush, she’d be beet red right now. However she kept her complexion, just twitching her elven-like ears and turning her attention back to the doctor. “Sorry. I will learn this Braile. How does it work?”

Was it because he was a vigilante? He did hurt quite a few people back before the times when reality altered. That couldn't be it though, the sins of then weren't the sins of now, despite the scars. The punishment would be equal to making amends for the incident itself. He recalled making his little brother cry once, over not being able to join in on an "intellectual game" he and his friends had played. That must have been it. This was his punishment, he had to endure this with the grace he should have had the first time around.

 "It's every Thursday night." He replied to Molly when asked if he would go see this person now. "He's a good man. He's the professional embodiment of "Get a Hobby". You seem to enjoy woodwork, but a hobby is more recreational than compulsory. Less about knowledge and habit and more about actively choosing to go and enjoy something that challenges you to think and explore new avenues of life you may enjoy, and using that to help frame life in perspective."

 "Braile is a language used by those with no sight. It can be felt by those who cannot see. As you appear to have a unique scope of vision, this will be... fantastic." He said, now slowly beginning to contemplate what it was these two could actually see. She made reference to the dots but not the writing from the print. Molly on the other hand was capable of seeing the ink, but also could not see the print. The moment the young woman said about "pictures you can feel" he almost lost his composure. His head dipped down and a wide smile crossed his face. He shook his head. He could relate to that.

 "Brail will be useful, it's like an alphabet, but the small bumps and dots are indicators of a different language. Even if you can...somehow see it. Perhaps you could tell me how your sight works, if you'd be comfortable with that. That way I can prepare ahead of time." He said, not realizing just how much he might come to regret asking that question. He walked over to the record-player and took the needle off, the ambient noises on it had nearly come to their end anyways. He then turned and pulled his own seat out, preparing to sit down.

Molly blinks, going back to looking at the card. The place where the time and day was indicated seemed to not be embossed in in the same manner everything else was. With a light tilt of his head he quickly goes for his knife, keeping his hand at the back of the card to keep it steady writing “Thursdae” right over where the time was actually printed, impressing his writing into the paper. Almost invisible to the human eye, but to a reaver was plain as day. “I do enjoy working with wood. Sadly I am better with my forge.” Molly gives a light gesture to the knife he was using that looked almost perfectly made, bronzed and wrapped in leather on the hilt. Slipping the knife back into it's holster once more. “I will go. Retirement has made me bored.”

“Retirement has made you a bastard.” Rai smiles with light laughter. Jabbing insults at Molly once more, still happy to try and make sense of the very strange book. “Um. Our vision does not need light, but instead um.,.. Space?” Rai thinks, making a face as her attention turns to the book, then to Molly. “Is there a better word for that?”

“Depth?” He suggests.

“Yes, Depth. We can only read what is raised or sunken.” Rai closes the book to point out the cover. It was hardback, but the letters seemed more sunken in, as if stamped on with a press. A decorative touch that was really the only way a reaver could read it. “This, I can read. The rest of the page is blank though. Oh. And we don’t know what color is. Er… I know one color. I was on a ship that was so desecrated with demonic energy that I could actually see it. I learned what teal looked like!” Rai smiles, just excited to remember a color. “The boat sank, but I got to kill a coven of sea witches with Aria. I want to go on another cruise ship.”

Rai was beaming, but Molly just stared at her in horror. He hadn’t heard this story yet, and now he was intrigued, however he was noticing the name ‘Aria’ always came up in the ‘bad stories’. Not necessarily the bad stories he supposed, but definitely the stories in which Rai got into the most trouble.

“Some things do appear differently though. Like human blood, looks more… shiny?” Rai thinks out loud before continuing. “Silver looks completely normal though. Oh! Blood looks like silver, only liquid. Demons, we see those for what they are no matter what form they take so hunting those is easy. And souls. We don’t really see people the way you do. Every person I’ve ever met has been a shape and their souls kind of drive the shape around. And we can see souls and demons through walls.”  Rai tilts her heard, eyes piercing through Humanity once again, just staring a hole through him as usual.

“I am rather jealous though. You get to see colors and I want to know what more colors look like. I get asked about what color someone’s soul is a lot and I cannot tell them unless it’s teal. Yours is not teal.” Rai adds before flipping the page in her book, still trying to synthesize as much of the information as she could.

The face he made when she spoke...it changed. His expression was a mortified one, no not quite. It was a shocked one. Thank God, at least he wasn't the only one what felt that way today. He'd need to commit that face to memory. Something about her revelations here caused that reaction, after all.

  Such fascinating people. His mind raced with all the possibilities of seeing depth as an advantage. Stereopsis is a wonderful survival tool for humans, implanted by years of evolution and adaptation, or perhaps even since their conception. To think that there were beings that had the concept of such optical capacity cranked to the maximum. That didn’t make sense to him, yet he was not beyond belief. He knew stereopsis is processed through the visual cortex, the area responsible for processing information from the retina, and it was actually part of the frontal lobe of the human brain. Reversing the logic, it means that the issue, or evolution of such a skill would originate in the brain, or in the erosion of the retina. The electrical or chemical signals may not be properly firing. The thought crossed his mind once more…


 “Corneal optical erosion. The Corneal optics are responsible for a majority of human perception. Yours must be either highly sensitive, or perhaps simply different.” He said with a smile, though in his mind he knew the truth. atrophied His thoughts intruded once more. It was cemented within his mind now. He smiled, but his heart sank as he returned to a former hypothesis. Postmortum degradation was identified as hitting the mucous membranes quickest. Things such as the mouth and eyes tend to act as reservoirs for bacterium, quickening the erosion. He was ripped from his thoughts when he had heard the reference to souls. It was a violent transition, akin to being ejected from the front windshield of a moving vehicle. His heart, still deep in his chest, had frozen almost entirely. He could feel a moment where he didn’t have a heartbeat at all, his breath held before his heart began racing.

 “I don’t have a traditional soul. It’s more of a black hole.” He said, the last bit of air escaping his lungs before he took a deep breath in and quickly recomposed himself. He’d sat in this chair across from murderers, rapists, psychopaths, incredible metahumans of ungodly genius…and it was a woman with animal horns that could claim the honor of catching him off guard. His every word, his every action and movement was now under intense calculation. He needed to keep himself the way he had been this entire time.

 “Well this has been educational to say the least. I assure you, we don’t see nearly as many colors as people believe. We can see things in three channels: red, green and blue. But some animals can see up to twelve. We don’t even know what to call these channels, but they go beyond our limited spectrum…but we’ll talk about that more later.” He said as he quickly shifted the conversation from the concept of vision and consumption of visual stimuli. He pulled out a small book and began to look into his small planner.

 “You know the days of the week, yes? Seven days. We will meet back here in 7 days. At the same time we did today. It will go for one hour, possibly two if needed… and then there’s a matter of payment.” He said as he leaned back in the chair. Oh I can’t wait to see how this is going to go. He cleared his throat and spoke once more, the kind voice still filtering through his accent. “I assume you know how currency works in this place, right?” As if he hadn’t already regretted a lot of the conversations he already had today.

Rai didn’t understand the majority of what was said… or even Molly for that matter. Neither of them knew what a cornea was. But whatever it was must be the reason they could see the way they did. However something changed the moment internal turmoil was introduced to the doctor, suddenly he had both of their undivided attention like cats watching some kind of toy. Laser focused on the twitching of the shape of the inky blackness. Inner emotions, not quite as secure as one would think.

“Oh. That actually makes sense.” Rai confirmed about the black hole thing. In her mind it only served to intrigue her. How could a hole of nothing have enough of a soul to keep him running? She just thought it was a strange color so far. “The black hole thing, not the colors thing. But three colors is more than I have.”

Rai perks as instructions were sent her way. A week from now, same time. Got it. Oh boy. Payment. “Ah, yes I got it.” Molly stands, retreiving Damballa’s glass figurine. Rai blinks, glancing to Molly. “No. Outside.” Rai orders pointing to the door. “Humans don’t like horses inside.” Molly freezes, deflating before going back out the door he came from, glass figurine clutched to hit pavement the moment he was outside. Rai crossing her arms with a smirk. “You’re welcome, I just saved your floors.” In her own opinion, this was why dirt floors were just better. You didn’t have to worry about the mess.

The hellish squealing of a horse thundering through dimensions sounds from outside as Rai sits oddly in the couch rather than standing as Molly returns with a large burlap sack that he drops down to the floor by the doctor’s desk. Full to the brim with quarters. “Two thousand of them. How many you need?”

Rai sighs. She knew this technically was human currency, as Cebra explained, it was different. “Molly he means the paper or the little card things.”

“Those aren’t currency though. Paper can’t be currency, it burns.” Molly justifies, arms crossed with a pout.

“No. humans don’t like carrying big bags of quarters. They’re currency, but nobody uses them.” Rai explains, moving to unlace her boot. “They count, but they don’t.” She adds before removing a golden piece from her boot. It was large, about the size of a silver dollar and solid gold. She sets it on the doctor’s desk. On one side a side profile of a pope undocumented by this world. A Pope Clement III, a name that had been used before in this world’s line of popes, but the image definitely wasn’t him. The other side has a religious insignia and a light impression in the metal, making it thin along four lines, as if it were meant to be broken apart into ‘quarters’. “I’ve been told that Dis’s Florin is worth more than the currency here. I only have one, but if I need another I might be able to go get one.”