damned_institute | Dayshift 31 -- Doctor's Office 8 [Dr Disraeli]

Entry tags:

cloud,
jizabel

Dayshift 31 -- Doctor's Office 8 [Dr Disraeli]

Adjusting to having his own office was something of a new experience for Jizabel. He was more used to house calls or being given a room at the residence he was staying at, a much more personal approach to the profession. This, however, was a bit more official. His own office set alongside those of the other doctors, his "colleagues" for the time being, arranged to his specifications without the slightest flaw-- nothing from his own experiences could even compare. But really, he didn’t need to compare at all. He had realized the differences of this place from the moment he’d entered and could be reminded of them with just a glance up from his desk.

An environment that was already nicely controlled-- he supposed any could be given the right standards, but it was strange that he wasn’t the one pulling the strings this time. Nothing to set up or keep tabs on for once. Perhaps that was the reason why he was just a little anxious for these therapy sessions to begin; these patients were not ones he had chosen himself.

Absentmindedly tapping the edge of his glasses on the desktop, he waited for the first of his patients to be shown in, mulling over just what personality type he wanted for this setting. The goal of these first meetings was to appear friendly, maybe earn some bits of trust if these patients would be willing to give some, yet still come across as a caring, professional individual that wanted to help. His portrayal of Dr. Allen was too casual for this, and Dr. Hathaway a little too suspicious. Meetings were going to be separated though, and he hadn’t taken any false names here, so he did have the option to deal in a case-by-case manner. That thought left a trace smirk on his lips. He rather doubted any of his assigned patients would care for how he acted anyway, but it never hurt to feign consideration.

Not when it was all just an act.

A knock at the door drew his attention away from his thoughts. That would be the first then. Skye Smith. Frosting himself over with a welcoming air and a pleasant smile, he set his glasses neatly in place and called for them to enter.

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Jizabel mentally smirked at the animosity he'd just earned from his patient's cool glare. What one's expression lacked, their eyes made up for easily, and "Cloud's" beautiful blue eyes were betraying a lot. He was probably thinking of a way to kill Jizabel as they sat there watching each other. How delightful. Jizabel had always loved the moment when his victims began to loathe him, especially when it was a silent loathing. Just another reminder of that Earl he hated so much.

But this wasn't him, and Jizabel was still acting. He only returned a smile to "Cloud's" look, along with a slight chuckle. "It's good to finally see your eyes, Cloud. Such a nice color." Nothing special, but worth commenting on, even if he was just trying to be facetious for "Cloud's" sake.

He watched again as the man shifted once more in his chair. The action seemed to come every time he attempted to speak and sometimes afterwards as well. He really was that uncomfortable with speaking, it seemed. Sad that it was the only thing he could do in his given situation. "Are you allowed to exercise here?" he asked, picking the easiest of "Cloud's" words to start a conversation on.

He had given himself away. He could tell because it seemed that the doctor across from him was a bit more subtly smug. He was not sure how he knew, but there was something that simply screamed 'Sephiroth' about the man with the subtle twists and pushing in one direction. It felt like he was being herded for a specific purpose.

He blinked at the comment about his eyes and looked aside. A few people had commented on them, but it had never been the colour that they liked. Sephiroth had liked how they were a door to seeing his emotions when his face refused to betray him. His eyes always did. "..."

The question seemed simple, but he held himself back from answering right away. He instead let the silence reign for a few tense moments before he nodded his head. "Yes, they sometimes do. I do what I can on my own."

The smile persisted as "Cloud" turned his eyes away. Embarrassment didn't suit him, so he was probably just bewildered by such a strange comment. Or maybe he too knew just how much one's eyes could betray them. Did he know he'd just made a mistake? If he did, then the tension of their conversation would only continue to grow as the seconds passed.

The long intervals of silence were tense enough as stood. At least with those, Jizabel could allow "Cloud" to think that he still had some control over this meeting. Jizabel only prompted, then waited for Cloud to decide that it was all right for him to speak. He did hope not all of his sessions went like this, but he wouldn't mind it happening if the remaining patients let their eyes give them away either.

"That's good. Do you exercise simply for recreation, or for your health?" Simple questions would do now. Their expressions and mannerisms were the real bulk of this conversation anyway, so their words weren't all that important any more.

The wall was not terribly interesting, but he had thought that maybe it would keep from giving himself away. All the preparation for this meeting lead him to feeling trapped when all that had been asked were simple questions. His dislike for doctors was going to cause him problems, and he almost wished he had his nurse here to talk his ear off.

He kept telling himself that it was just a simple question, that there was no harm. He should not be doing a silent battle with a man he had no idea where true intentions lay. "For both... mostly because I like it and it keeps my mind occupied."

It was also a huge part of his military-ingrained need for routine too. He was not about to mention that though, since his lack of military career could be a sore spot if he looked back on it.

Jizabel silently wondered if he would be given the chance to see "Cloud's" eyes another time. Since his patient was so determined now to look anywhere but directly at him, he doubted he would. It almost felt like he was dealing with a stubborn child, one that was just a step away from giving him the silent treatment. And here he'd thought his youngest patient would be coming the next session.

"Occupied from what?" he asked, then finally broke his statuesque position to reach for the ballpoint pen on his desk's right corner. If "Cloud" was so uninterested in looking at him, then the Doctor saw no harm now in taking notes; he'd been prepared to do so from the beginning but hadn't since he was sure it would have unnerved "Cloud" further.

Unnerving him now was fine though - just another way to deal with untrusting children.

Now there was a question that he did not wish to answer, but he supposed that he had brought it on himself by being honest. He doubted that stating he was thinking about how to escape this place would go down very well. He did not wish to be placed under harsh treatment because he did not feel as if he belonged here or that he was entertaining a considerable amount of his time staring at walls that had once seemed an easy feat to jump.

After a long moment of silence, Cloud flicked his eyes back towards the doctor. He did not think that he had said anything interesting enough to warrant actual notes on. Perhaps exercising for the purpose of keeping busy was odd for mental patients? He could not remember any time of hearing of such things.

Finally, he decided that some measure of honesty would not harm him. "From thinking too much," he said softly. "I have been told by friends it will get me into trouble or..." he trailed off, not really wanting to admit that he suffered from bouts of depression. That might warrant medication. Still, he had left it open, and the doctor was bound to pick up on it.

Was he just being suspicious? Maybe his tainted view of doctors was going to put him in some trouble. "If I think too much, I might get depressed," he finally admitted, his lips downturning into a deep frown.

What he wrote were only simple notes really, nothing too important - the patient had barely said anything worth noting - but the simple movement of the pen was sure to draw attention and get "Cloud" to thinking. Jizabel kept his own eyes down in the moments he jotted away, just knowing that "Cloud" had given him a glance up.

A little at a time.

Ah, one's thoughts. Those were dangerous sometimes, as Jizabel well knew. "Well, Heaven forbid," he teased just slightly at that last comment, trying to lighten the mood just a bit. By the looks of it, this patient was already in some state of depression. If he could get any worse than this, Jizabel would have been impressed. "But that is understandable. Are your friends important to you?" he asked, turning his attention up once more.

They must have been if "Cloud" was taking into account their concerns over him. Or maybe it was just peer pressure. These friends could very well not want him to think so that he wouldn't doubt the life he had fabricated.

Looking at the doctor across from him, Cloud had to wonder how Barret had managed to sit through one of these sessions. He considered himself less temperamental than his friend, but even this session was starting to get to him. It was nothing in particular, just that he was here in the first place. Barret probably would have killed someone if the older man's track record for violence was still in place.

His eyebrows drew together to complete his frown at the attempt at humour. He supposed that he should lighten up, but he really did not wish to be here talking about anything. It just seemed much too rude and childish to say nothing at all. He went with bear minimums as much as possible.

"Yes, they are the only thing I have here," he said. He would give his life to protect them and to offer them freedom if that was possible. They had saved him more times than he could count, and he wanted to return the favour.

Since he knew "Cloud" was at least partially interested in whatever was being written down, Jizabel kept the notes simpler than he might have otherwise lest "Cloud" view something and protest. Jizabel was good with his memory and could very well finish any important notes after his patient had been removed. He would certainly be noting "Cloud's" now admitted depression and asking if he was taking any form of medication for that. The nurses must know.

"Cloud" was apparently unamused by his attempts at lightening the mood. Pity. This poor boy would do well to loosen up. The conversation would continually get more trying for him if he did not.

"But not wanting you to think... wouldn't you say that's a bit extreme?" Jizabel pressed, "I'm sure your friends' opinions are important to you, but they should not be allowed to tell you what you can and cannot think. That is supposed to be for you to decide." Patients needed to think if any progress was to be made towards recovery and, of course, if Jizabel was to make any progress in his own research as well. "Don't you agree?"

Cloud blinked slowly at the sudden depth of the conversation towards his friends. That was not what he was expecting after the simple line of questioning that he had been receiving before this point in time. Dr. Disraeli thought his friends were trying to make him stop thinking?

He could not think that what his companions did was in a malicious intent, more to ease his concerns over the past. They were trying to take care of him, not repress him. It seemed absurd to even think of such things happening with people like Barret and Cid.

"I..." he fumbled for something to say, eyeing the doctor as if to see if this was yet another attempt at a joke - maybe at his expense. "They are simply watching out for me. They have been through a lot with me, and they know the way that I am." He wanted to explain it more, but he was not comfortable describing his past.

If he did, then he really would be a mental case. Even he had been avoiding really thinking over some of his previous mental states during the Meteor Crisis.

This whole thing was somewhat of a joke for him - he had so many better options for which to study how humans thought - but his acting was sincere enough. He'd just asked what any other therapist would when presented the right material. The pressure from those someone viewed as his friends could be a powerful thing quite detrimental to the recovery process. The concerned Doctor just had to speak up on the matter.

"Are they? You seem quite confident in that, Cloud. Or is it just that they know you because that is how they've made you think? Are you sure you're thinking for yourself on this matter?" Jizabel was reminding himself of just what had drawn him to psychology. Such confusion. What a wonderful way to toy with a person's emotions.

Why would he not feel confident in the opinions of his friends? He needed a smack to the back of his head once in awhile to keep him thinking straight or without getting too depressed as he thought of the emotional baggage he could be carrying. Where would he be without Tifa or Barret or even Yuffie?

Lost.

His eyes darkened with a flickering of protectiveness for his friends. He kept his hands from clasping the arms of his chair too hard only because he found himself staring down the doctor across the desk from him. "I am confident in that," he said stiffly with a hint of defensiveness. "I may be here, but I have enough willpower to think for myself."

There it was again, the subtle loathing of a look. Jizabel loved seeing it in his eyes again, cold, dark, and hard. Not a trace of that insecurity from earlier. So this was how he responded when pressured, was it?

At least this "Cloud" was rooted in his beliefs, though speaking outside of the metaphor, that was fairly impossible. What an entertaining thought though - a rooted Cloud. And a defensive one too, not wanting to move from its position. Moving him would take much more than a simple breeze though, that much was certain.

"And I believe you," he said, matter-of-factly, "I was waiting to hear your own words on the matter. Thus far, you've only mentioned what your friends have said." He tilted his head, showing an interested, though slightly sly look.

Cloud continued to stare across the desk at the doctor, trying to decide if he was being mocked in some way. It seemed to him like he was the butt of some joke that he did not quite understand or maybe that he was playing right into the doctor's hand so easily. It felt like Hojo's mind-games at times.

He reminded himself quickly that he needed to not put every doctor or professor that he met into the same category as Hojo. Not everyone was a sadistic genius looking to inflict as much physical and mental suffering as possible. Some could be nice. His nurse was fine.

Unchanging, he shifted a little in his chair and finally let out a puff of air from his lips. "I like to exercise because thinking all the time on certain subjects will cause unneeded turmoil," he stated matter-of-factly in return. "I am making an effort to keep my life as stress-free as possible so I can concentrate on greater tasks."

He was being mocked, as much as he could be considering Jizabel's act. The acting itself was mocking, but it would be a feat if "Cloud" discovered that on his own. And his suspicions were correct; he very well should think each doctor a sadistic genius. It was how all doctors were, in Jizabel's opinion - humans just a little more attuned to the sciences, yet still carrying all the sins they were born with.

The same sins of all mankind.

More shifting, so expected by now. Jizabel allowed his expression to soften away from slyness once "Cloud" put himself back on track. There was a good patient. "I'm glad to hear that you are," he breathed, showing signs of relief. As much as he adored feeling a patient's hatred, it was just as well when a patient started calming. His act was better kept that way. "What greater tasks might you be referring to? Something stress free, I'd wager?"

Cloud figured that the next line of questioning would start up against him once the words had left his lips. He leaned more into the chair he had been sitting stiffly in, his hands clasping the chair arms comfortably. He looked at the items on the doctor's desk as he considered how to answer.

Getting out of here is priority, he thought. He could not well admit such things, since breaking out was probably going to get him monitored more closely. He needed to keep the low profile that he had been. If he was a 'good' patient, he would be overlooked.

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged in an non-commital fashion. "Getting well, I suppose," he murmured. "My mother told me that I would be released if I was well, so that should be my first priority." It was best to hide his true intentions behind the words that everyone obviously wanted to hear from him.

"Though, if I am here because of a fabrication of a life, how come every other patient has the same affliction? Mental institutes are not supposed to be based on one specific ailment," he commented, raising an eyebrow.

Getting well was a great task for the patients, but not one they were likely to be thinking on. If "Cloud" did think for himself, of course. That was still an iffy subject, and Jizabel could not be sure of what influences "Cloud's" friends had on him. No, there was something else he wasn't mentioning. He'd said as much himself when he'd used the word "should". Yes, getting well should have been his first priority, but him saying so meant that it, in fact, was not his first priority.

What agenda did he have? Or was he simply trying to dance around giving out truthful answers? Either way, Jizabel was fine with playing any game. It was his job to do so.

"Mass psychosis has many explanations, I'm afraid. We simply have to work on a case-by-case basis in order to reverse what damage has resulted from that phenomenon," he answered as if reading from a book. It was true that most mental institutions would cover a variety of different ailments, but there was nothing wrong with a specialized facility such as this either. "Have you been in any institutions prior to this one?" he asked, testing. "Cloud" needed to have a basis for his accusation if he was to continue on this tangent.

It seemed like Dr. Disraeli had just nicely side-stepped actually answering his question fully. That allowed a few alarm bells to go off in his mind as he lifted his eyes back to the doctor's face. Something seemed to be amiss about this place, especially since some of the people he knew had no mental ailments that he knew about. This place was possibly the fabrication, but how did they all get here in the first place?

"Not to my knowledge," he admitted softly. However, he could remember a time when he probably should have been for his and everyone else's safety. There was a flash of guilt in his eyes, but he managed to keep himself from looking away. "However, my experience with institutions dealing with mental abnormalities does not seem to include having only one type of patient for a population of this size," he said, trying to bring things around to the point he was trying to make.

Would Dr. Disraeli ever admit something? Or would things get twisted around to focus on his own mental afflictions?

Jizabel did not think himself avoiding the question at all. He was basing his answer on fact. Mass psychosis did indeed have many causes, but the cause for the one in this particular institute was not something he'd been made aware of just yet. It was still his first day, after all. How should he know?

Eyes hardening again, Jizabel watched "Cloud's" response to his question. No knowledge of one? Then why was there guilt in his eyes? Something he knew he'd done perhaps? Or that his fabricated self had done, at least. Jizabel was more convinced of "Cloud's" intent to avoid his questions now, but that only interested the Doctor.

"And where does your experience come from?" he asked, now curious. If "Cloud" had never actually been in another facility aside from this one, then where was he drawing his information from? Not that it really mattered; Jizabel was only asking on his own interests for now. If "Cloud" wasn't able to present anything worth while, Jizabel would steer the conversation back to a place of his own liking once again.

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Dayshift 31 -- Doctor's Office 8 [Dr Disraeli]

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