Chapter Text
"Welcome-" Sylvie flinched though he tries to smile as he sees the pale figure enter the room, "Miss Saliman, of course! How lovely to see you especially our last visit together, right?" He grates the words between his teeth, visibly on guard and distrustful to whatever Mera has to say or do.
"Don't act so ungrateful, I let you see the amulet as promised, after all," She sits on the chair, carefully not to break whatever bones she has left, "Anyway you saw my name on that screen of yours, right? You should have been aware I'd be coming, especially since I booked a session with you specifically." She also laughs at her small joke, as unfunny as it is, crossing her leg over the other as she tries to make herself comfortable in the seat.
"Of course, but why me specifically?" Sylvie groans as he puts a hand to touch his ribs, having phantom pain of the incident at the museum. "If it's just so you can be cruel then I have no problem reporting you to the department that you were released from." He tries to look at the other to show that he isn't afraid, though a chill crawls up his spine seeing the other in the same room as him.
Mera waved her hand to dismiss the eye contact, leaning on the plastic drawer that Giovanni 'bought' for the office. "If I had a choice, I would never go to a therapy session in the first place. But that Dumb girl was so adamant about me coming here that I booked it just so she can stop pestering me," she looks at her black nails, slightly annoyed at a chip on one, "also it's free for first times, right? I'll take what I can."
Sylvie shudders as he thought about Molly and couldn't believe his 'friend' recommended him to the criminal. He sighs, grabbing a pen and paper before handing them to the broken epithet user, once she picks them up he quickly swipes his hands away as his hands visibly shake ever so slightly. Mera sighs as she looks at the paper, skimming it quickly before looking up at the other. She begins circling answers.
"I haven't told you what to do yet," Sylvie watches the other circling each answer quickly, "I mean, it's self-explanatory, you answer on a scale on how you are feeling with each question and then-"
"Listen, kid," Mera began to hiss as she points the pen at the teen psychiatrist, "I said I will never go to a therapy session, it didn't mean I never been to one before. You're not the first one but hopefully the last." Sylvie is stunned silent, before turning to his computer and typing down what he needs, glancing at the time that he is beginning to dread on.
Mera returns to bubbling in her feelings and flipping pages, reading again as she pauses, her breathing shortens as she thinks, crossing out and changing her answers. She is putting her time and thought into it, which wasn't expected. Finishing, she looks at the papers as she breathes deeply, agitated, as she hands the paper to Sylvie.
He tries to take the paper from her but instead, Mera seems to have a grip on it as she covers her mouth with her hand as if she has something to hide. "I can't evaluate you if I can't look at what you answered," The boy demands, though as nice as he can put it. Mera sighed before letting go of the paper, then begins to wrap her arms on herself as- if Sylvie wasn't mistaken- she was shaking.
"If you tell anyone about this I am-" She hisses once more before Sylvie glances at her once more and coughs with authority in his posture.
"I am a professional, first sessions are confidential as always, as long as it isn't hurting you or anyone else," 'me, that is.' He thought the last part out, as he looks through the paper, watching Mera in the corner of his eye as she becomes more freaked out as he turns the page.
'I hold high standards for myself.' Agree.
'I am a better person than I was before.' Somewhat disagree.
'Have you notice that you have been eating poorly, or overeating?' Agree.
Flip.
'My friends like me.' Disagree.
'I make time for people that want me.' Disagree.
'Have you notice that you are isolating yourself?' Somewhat disagree.
Flip.
'I get along with others.' Disagree.
'I am fearful' Agree.
'Have you ever thought of yourself better off dead in the last two weeks?' Agree.
He began typing it down, unsure of what to think of it. Sylvie noticed that there has been a spike in depressive or suicidal thoughts within Epithet users in the upcoming years, but many news and journalist chalk it off and ignore it moreso for the safety of mundies. Of course, that had an adverse effect, causing Epithet users to rely on many other outlets to cope, depending on how powerful their inscription is of course. From what Sylvie has been aware of the news lately, the police aren't boding well with the recent crimes that Epithet users have caused, to the point there's backlash between removing Epithet users from the force, or grouping more users to join in order to appear better.
Basically, those inscribed are more likely to not get the help that they deserve, which is why Sylvie was fascinated in the psychology of users in the first place, because even when they appear human there is something abnormal they are hiding, whether it is an ability or repressed trauma.
"I must inquire some basic questions to keep in mind the safety of my patients," Sylvie began to act more comfortable in his situation, that he is the psychiatrist and Mera is the patient, and that this isn't the villain-victim scenario months prior, "If you aren't comfortable answering them, let me know." He tried to keep his voice steady, but his mind already clicked and he was thrilled to finally understand a REAL broken user, the reason why he wanted to get into this major in the first place.
Mera was taken aback by the sudden change in the attitude of the teen but tried to keep her guard up in case anything was out of the ordinary, "Go ahead, it's probably something I've heard a thousand times." She mutters a reply, noticing the plastic shelf she just so leaned on and noticing the toys that are in there, "I thought you said you're not a kid." She looks annoyed, but easily amused with the circumstance nonetheless.
Sylvie shrugged as he began typing down, "They're donated from the Blyndeff Toy Emporium as a way to help ease my patients."
"So that kid has been bothering you as well?" Mera wasn't surprised, but still found it interesting of a topic.
"I'm sure she means well," Sylvie sighs, recalling his session with the poor 12-year-old. He only wishes that she is doing better now.
Mera looks distrustful of Sylvie's comment, having her own agenda of not trusting anyone in general. Even so, her hand seemed to reach out to grab a stuffed doll. When she got it out of its shelf, she looked almost mesmerised by the doll that is a shape of a possum, her fingertips brushing it's plush head and wrapping its tail around her finger. She looked oddly calm, especially holding this odd choice of a comfortable material.
"My counting sheep is better than that," Sylvie said, trying to sound like a joke, but it came off as him trying to one-up the doll instead.
Mera glares, unenthusiastic of the response, "Sure, your epithet must be soooo grand, huh?" her response snarky, as her nails begin to sink into the 'neck' of the possum doll out of agitation. Sylvie quickly glanced away and regret trying to make small talk and should just continue with his professional attitude, Molly and Giovanni caused him to be too lax with his tongue.
"Let's change position, I'm supposed to be the one asking the questions," he pulled up a questionnaire and began to skim through it, "How long have you been thinking that you're better off not being here?" He glanced at Mera to see her reaction and response.
Her eyes grew cold and glassy as she had to recall her answer for it, but her hands seemed to be calm as it clung unto the doll. "A while. Possibly since my childhood, but the thought is on and off." her response was automatic and devoid of emotion as if she has been asked this multiple times before. She did mention that would be the case, after all.
"How about recently..?" Sylvie asks, both fascinated and fearful of the other.
She tapped her finger on the back of the possum as if formulating a thought as her mouth tried to fit the words. She breathed out as she finally responds, "I haven't thought about it ever since I heard about the Arsene Amulet. I think that was the time I was excited and my thoughts moved from pain to glee. If I did manage to get my hands on it and used it properly, I would have gotten everything I've wanted. That's not what happened, of course." She looked bitter about the incident, but Mera stayed calm.
Sylvie recalled Mera's explanation when the two fought, explaining how she only felt pain when she used her Epithet, but she wouldn't have it any other way. It sent another chill down his spine, but he wrote this down anyway, "Have you done anything to harm yourself? Or act upon these ideas of yours?" Sylvie asked the tougher questions.
"I acted on the museum heist. I have not harmed myself since I was in jail and I would be damned to be put on suicide watch," she groans, trying to find a comfortable way to sit as she got antsy with her answers, "I mean, I would say I'm clean but I've broken a few bones in that cell. Doesn't help that I'm as fragile as it comes." She winces, but overall seems used to always having her body shattered.
Sylvie nods, unsure to write that down as self-harm or the fault of the epithet in this situation. "Did you ever saw yourself ending up in that situation?" He asks.
Mera seems to be caught off guard, surprised of a question she hasn't heard before, "What?"
"Let me rephrase: did you ever saw yourself stealing? Hurt people? Go to jail? Is this the kind of person you wanted to be?" Sylvie eyes the other, tugging onto his coat as he explains it.
Mera face turned cold as she took the question in, as if she was ready to tear something apart because of how overwhelmed she is by the question. Her hand clutched on the doll though, her thumb and index rubbing the ears of the rodent as her breathing began to steady, her focus on the soft doll in her hands, bringing her back to the present as she occupies with what is in front of her.
Sylvie took note of this and plans to thank Molly for the donation.
"No, let me think." She closed her eyes as she ponders for a reason for her actions.
"As a kid, I've always compared my epithet to others. Why the hell does mine hurt so much? How come all the others get to have better, simple, and harmless inscriptions? Hell, Indus' epithet LITERALLY protects him. Mine just hurts, but if I put attention on my feelings the pain worsens, and it almost always gets worse when I don't control my emotion.
"Here are a few things you need to know, when I was doing research for my ability I stumbled upon Indus, I was the one that tagged around him. I don't know what he saw in me to allow me to stick around, but I guess he thought I was some pitiful creature. Ugh, what an idiot. I just remember not having the best feelings for him, so I challenged him every so often. Yes! It was stupid! Yes! I got hurt so many times! But it was so worth it! Once I started channelling my ability not from sadness, pain, or anger, but just out of spite, that's when it got better. I was able to control my ability and I was able to properly fight Indus head-on, and I think I should have been happy with just that.
"Of course, I wasn't, who would be happy with beating only one person? And after fighting him, he got soft. The fact is it didn't solve anything, I am still in constant pain, I just knew how to keep my emotions in check and strengthen it, because I'm going to live with it forever, right? What's the point? My parents didn't care, if I had a terrible break down they just leave a few painkillers for me and I pass out, only to wake up with a migraine. They probably got tired of babying me and made me rely on those damn pills, now I get a migraine every time I don't take one. Good thing I took a few before coming here or I would be totally tearing your office apart, fun! Absolutely stupendous! My parents are idiots. End of story."
Sylvie was about to ask another question, not surprised by the sob story but feeling like he could understand her better than before, was cut with Mera glaring at Sylvie with both fear and anger aflame in her eyes. "Don't get me started with ducks! Don;t you understand how awful they are?! Those little sh*ts can walk, swim, fly, and cause terror like no one's business, who does that?! They just do whatever they want and if they don't like you they scream! Absolutely vile creatures."
"I- what?" Sylvie was dumbfounded, but then shrugged it off, "Oh yeah, fear of ducks. Got it." He recalled from the nightmare fuel, sighing. "But do you think your past justifies your actions now?" He asked once more, in hope that this 'tragic' character can see pass her own character flaws.
Mera blinked once, then again, as she raises her hand to her hair as she realises- just for a moment- what she has done, "I just... wanted to be able to control my Epithet better like everyone else, I guess. No one was there to help me and I couldn't understand it myself, books were the ones teaching me since I can barely leave to go to a public school."
Sylvie nods, spinning his chair before rubbing his head, "I don't do diagnosis," he states, but looks at Mera with an almost sad look, "but, hear me out, you may have a horrible outlook on life because you don't value yourself as a person."
"What the hell." The girl glares, unsure of what she just heard. What kind of conclusion is that? Did he missed her whole sob story??? Did she mention that she was devaluing herself? She nearly felt offended, but what did she expect? She came to a psychiatrist who is a teen boy, after all, she played herself. She sighed, "Care to explain, kid doctor?"
"Here is food for thought," he raised his hand, ignoring Mera's comment as he tapped his chin, "You compare your epithet with others, the loneliness in your childhood and lack of interaction from your own parents has caused you to devalue your worth as a person. You see yourself as that very epithet of yours, fragile, and broken. Of course, the times have changed in today's world where the saying is 'you're not what your epithet tells you to be' or whatever that crap is.
"What I'm saying is that the loneliness you held on made you only devalue yourself. It caused you to act out, for starters, and being an adult you aren't able to talk to people and make proper connections which are pretty detrimental for both health and sociability. If you keep only seeing yourself as what your epithet is, then you never will truly heal from your past wounds. Of course, it's not a walk in a park to just tell yourself you're deserving of things like everyone else, because that takes time to heal.
"The problem is that you're not allowing yourself to heal. You're causing these things to happen to yourself, this festering loneliness and committing crimes, you even beat up children. Tell me, does your past truly justify your actions? Do you deserve to walk the path of destruction because you hate yourself that much? Or do you want to get out of that cycle, separate yourself from your identity and learn more about yourself? There is more to you that you aren't even aware of."
Mera seemed struck with the words that have been thrown at her by the teen, and that it oddly made sense. Her ears began to rush with a tint of red as she felt embarrassed for doubting the kid, and that no one has ever said anything like that to her. "Did you just told me off on my toxic persona?"
"W-what!" Sylvie fumbles as he tries to recall what he has said, "I didn't mean to make it come off that way, I was just sharing a thought that might be helpful-" he fidgetted as his voice squeaked, there goes to being a professional now.
Mera glared at him before bursting into laughter, hugging the doll to her chest as she nearly hit the back of her head to the wall, "I can't even be angry, no one has ever analyzed me as thoroughly as you had. I'm just amazed a prick like you had the guts to tell me that it's my own fault everything happened but manage to make it sound inspirational!" She continued to cackle, her eyes welling up slightly as even laughing hard was a pain to do, "It's just- wow, I don't know. I guess I needed a reality check after all this time."
Sylvie continues to fidget with his hands unsure how to react with what he said, is ego is filled that he was right of course, but it just doesn't feel right when the person that broke your ribcage tells you that you're right. "The session is about to close, is there any last-minute discussions..?" He watches the clock, surprised that it has even moved at all.
Mera tries to calm her fit as she gets up from the chair slowly, placing the possum back on the shelf as neatly as she can and tries to think, "What do you think I should do?" she finally asks, but it wasn't of genuine curiosity, but as if she's elbowing to hear more thoughts of what the kid has in store.
Sylvie lays his hand in his palm, "Well, you just got out of jail, right? So there's not much I can say now. I guess what I can say is, be a little gentle with yourself. Both literally and mentally, it's going to be difficult but you have a good friend to help you, right?"
Mera pauses a moment as her face switches to a more soft look, something that Sylvie didn't expect he would ever see. "I guess that's true. I will tell that meathead to make my favourite soup then, that's a start, right?" She turns to look at the doctor, but this time as if she unlocked something deep inside her that finally flowed out. The act of forgiving herself for her ability and lack of.
Sylvie cracked a smile, nodding, "I'm surprised he manages to put up with you, but yes, it's something."
Mera was almost pleased with the response, heading to the door before turning to see the kid again, "The toys are from that Molly girl, right?"
Sylvie sighs, recalling the same question his previous patient asked, "I cannot disclose anything, as I said, everything stays in this room."
Mera smiles, seeing as Sylvie didn't totally deny it either, "Then the shelf is also from her?"
"From a previous session, actually." Sylvie was pleased to say, as his room begins to look a little more colourful.
"Then here's a recommendation," Mera leans against the doorframe which looked almost uncomfortable, but she denied showing any pain, "either seat cushions or those essential oil diffusers. Lavender or lemongrass preferably."
"Why do you ask?" Sylvie tilts his head but isn't opposing the idea.
Mera turns to open the door as she puts a foot out, "Don't know, might plan on coming back for another session. I'll have the money, and I will rather be real comfortable the next time unpack my emotions again."