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 Posted: Sun Jan 07, 2018 4:07 pm
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It was good to be back on Alternia. Amonee had spent a good week at home, relishing in his normal life again. Soft pillows and blankets, television shows, mornings in his studio painting... He'd even spent a few nights at the cafe working again to check on Nucleo. But the fact was, he still couldn't completely shake the anxiety and fears he'd formed while up in space. Which was how he'd ended up here at the Civisect Rehabilitation and Counseling Center to meet with a counselor of some kind.
"Which door is it? This one? Thank you." A friendly receptionist pointed out the office for him to enter. It was still kind of an odd idea to him, the concept of mental health. But if it could help, he was willing to try. He tugged off his coat and looked for a place to hang it before his eyes met with someone else's.
"Y-you!" The jadeblood yelped, shocked to find the redblood from Bloodfest in the room with him. He vaguely remembered her running some kind of psychiatric booth but he hadn't known she was working at the center as an official aid! How startling and embarrassing, would she remember their earlier encounter? Then again, how could she forget it? It wasn't every night you got beat up at a juice bar!
"I'm here for... the session..." His face was lit up with a flushed green. It was too late to request someone else, this had been the only appointment he could make before the train left out of Civisect for the night! He'd have to make it work somehow. Maybe she wouldn't be as scary in a setting where she also had to behave.
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Posted: Wed Feb 21, 2018 11:43 am
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The name hadn't been familiar. The symbol, vaguely so, but it hadn't set off any alarms in her mind. Now, Psykgi knew why - she hadn't exactly been looking at the troll's lilypad symbol when she'd been hitting him with a tray.
"Hello, hello!" she said, giving him her most pleasant, professional smile. "You can just hang that up on the rack over there -- or on the chair." She gestured to the reasonably comfortable chair in the room. There was also a couch, if he wanted it. The nicer chair, though... that was hers, claimed, in essence, by a table, a notepad, and a bowl of mints - her own personal touch.
"Amonee Brycer, right? Sit down, get yourself comfortable, and we'll get started." She shuffled through the papers, mainly just for appearance: she'd already looked at them on her lunch break. Once he'd taken his seat, she sat down, too.
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