[closed] the doctor is in

[cerebral]

Who: Charles Xavier, Olivia Dunham (prime) and Rachel Conway.
What: Various appointments.
Where: The Glory Shada.
When: Backdated to a couple of weeks ago, for whenever is convenient.
Notes: None.
Warnings: None.

On Newdi to Givdi, Charles Xavier keeps the usual nine to five office hours at the Glory Shada unless otherwise organised (i.e. nocturnal clients, people who need the discretion, others who need some advice but don't have the marks) and Veerdi morning eight until twelve acts as a drop-in hours. It's ideal for anyone who has been working up the courage or simply has a few questions that can be answered quickly.

His office is removed enough from the medical parts of the building that it doesn't having that lingering smell of disinfectant; he's done his best to set it up as a calm place with comfortable seating. A few pictures drawn by children --presumably patients-- decorate the walls. One appears to be a crayoned rendition of a man in a cardigan with a smiley face standing next to a small boy with a big smile sprouting fire from his hands. Even in Baedal, wobbly thank-you drawings are a constant.

The good doctor himself can most likely be found sitting behind his desk, taking care of paperwork or reading from various medical books, whilst waiting for knocks on his door.

Comments

[nolimitation]

Olivia offers him a smile as she steps inside, only a little strained, and extends her hand to shake as she crosses the room to meet him. "Hello, Doctor. Olivia Dunham, I'm... I'm grateful for any help you can offer right now."

If he can help her. If that's even possible. She'd believe Walter could fix it, whatever's wrong with her, but here, without him... she'll just have to cross her fingers and hope for the best. Thing is, Olivia's never been much of an optimist.

[cerebral]

"Oh, please, call me Charles." At twenty-seven he doesn't feel like he's caught up with his letters, not to mention he tries to take a much less formal approach with his patients. Establishing a sense of community is more important to him than keeping up decorum. "And it's a pleasure to meet you. Please, take a seat."

As he settles on the other side of the desk, he folds his hands and smiles mildly. "Now. How can I be of help?"

[nolimitation]

"Charles," she amends, with a slightly warmer smile as she takes a seat. "It's nice to meet you too, circumstances aside. Nothing personal, I've just never been very good at... at this sort of thing."

At talking about her feelings, or what she's afraid of. At admitting vulnerability, or that there's something she can't control or needs help with. Back home, she'd do everything she could to avoid dealing with the Bureau's shrinks, whether or not she probably needed it.

She doesn't answer his question immediately, her eyes on her hands, folded in her lap. After several long moments, she takes a deep breath and starts, "Back home... before I came to Baedal, something started happening to me. I started to develop these... memories of someone else's life. Another version of me, from another universe, and at first it was just little things - flashes - but then it was like... All of a sudden I remembered everything. Her whole life, it was like... I was her. Like I always had been."

Olivia falls silent for a moment, and then glances back up at Charles, almost reluctantly. "And now... I'm starting to lose my memories. Parts of my real life, the life I actually lived, they're slipping away. I'd like to find a way to stop it."

[cerebral]

Charles nods, understanding completely. It's not something he'd share with his patients, but he'd been on the other side of the desk for a while, after his mother had died. It can be a daunting place.

In the meantime, he waits patiently for Olivia to begin and, when she does, he tries to keep his face calm despite how troubling the problem sounds.

Rather than say anything obvious like 'I see' or 'well, that's quite the predicament,' he drums his fingers on the side of his arm rest for a moment, deep in thought. "And there have been anomalies between your universe and others." It's difficult to say whether that was a guess (because really, what else?) or he cheated a little.

"Would you consent for me to read your mind? I can assure you, there's no pain involved. But I understand it can make people uncomfortable, regardless." He gives a small, mild-mannered smile, "And while my own reassurances might seem like empty words, you can at least count on the fact that I wouldn't want to anger the hospital's patron goddess in any way."