01-30-2019, 05:59 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-30-2019, 06:02 AM by Meera Alam.)
Meera Alam did not take new patients often. Not without the Atharim’s recommendation. Oh, her ‘betters’ at The Guardian didn’t know that little fact, but the tentacles of the Organization had reached far. The entire operation here had been soiled by the Atharim’s prerogative. She had looked over this man, this Eiji Lynx’s, file on her way to the office. It did not appear that the man could Channel. So why did the Atharim recommend him to her? They knew what her interests entailed. Just because this man had asked for her specific touch? Many had before and had been denied. The Organization had been so keen on blocking any patient that would not further her goals, and by extension, their own…
So how could Eiji help the Atharim? Better yet, how could he help Meera Alam? Was the man Blocked somehow? Or did the Organization suspect some hidden talent within him? Perhaps he could talk to wolves? Or did he see the future in his trauma? There was more than just Channelers out there in the world, but they had been her specialty, her expertise. Sure, she could toy with the other freaks of the world, but those others were lesser in comparison to the ‘Gods.’
The Asian man sat alone in her decrypt office, with its stained desk and pitiful fern in the corner. The yellowing lightbulb swayed overhead as the man introduced himself to her. Meera urged her wheelchair past the man, not acknowledging the fact that words had come from his mouth. This man wasn’t worth the pleasantries. So far as she was concerned, this was just a means to keep up appearances. A random patient to further the subterfuge she was crafting for her ‘civilian life.’ Surely this soldier couldn’t possibly compare to any of her experiments. She suspected that after a few quick questions and a psych assessment, she could dismiss the man and pass him along to someone lower than her.
Oh, she would have to turn on the charm eventually, lest she ruins her own image, but she did not need to start with the honey. No self-respecting doctor acted like a witless moron around their patients. Once he had divulged his trauma, then, perhaps, she could coddle the man a little. But for now? She could show her true face. That uncaring, indifferent persona so often associated with the medical profession. Until then, however…
If he could Channel… Well, that would be something else entirely. But the file had all but confirmed his normality. There were no notes on extraordinary abilities, so again, Meera had to ask herself why this man had been offered up to her, the Mirror.
Meera wheeled herself to the desk and parked her chair behind it, shuffling the multitude of papers before her, taking care not to acknowledge the man before she was ready to. He was not in control here, even if he had spoken first. This was her office. He was subject to her will.
“I’m sure.”
She did not lift her eyes from his file; if anything she made a great show of sifting through the many papers contained in the manilla folder. Nothing in his file suggested he was worth her while. An ex-soldier with PTSD? Boring. Sure, she could have some fun with this one, but why waste the energy? And, really, she shouldn’t torment this poor, unfortunate soul unless her superiors had dictated it. Only the Channelers were free game; everyone else? Well, they were to be handled delicately.
“Lynx-san. It seems that you have been recommended into my care by your Sensei? Curious that your file does not list your Sensei’s name? May I ask for it?” She spoke with a clear, crisp tone, “You may refer to me as Alam-sama, by the way.” She finally turned her gaze upon the ex-soldier, with a forced smile.
“I only ask because I simply must know what type of care you have endured before coming into my Office. This file is particularly sparse, so I suspect we shall have to get to know each other a little better before we proceed- should I choose to treat you…”
Meera’s delicate hands gathered up the papers and shuffled them back into the manila folder.
“I do not mean to be short with you, Lynx-san, however, I only take on the most serious of patients. There are so many in the world that suffer debilitations of the mind… So tell me, what ails you? Why are you here? Why have you asked for me specifically?”
Meera’s lips quirked into a rictus.
So how could Eiji help the Atharim? Better yet, how could he help Meera Alam? Was the man Blocked somehow? Or did the Organization suspect some hidden talent within him? Perhaps he could talk to wolves? Or did he see the future in his trauma? There was more than just Channelers out there in the world, but they had been her specialty, her expertise. Sure, she could toy with the other freaks of the world, but those others were lesser in comparison to the ‘Gods.’
The Asian man sat alone in her decrypt office, with its stained desk and pitiful fern in the corner. The yellowing lightbulb swayed overhead as the man introduced himself to her. Meera urged her wheelchair past the man, not acknowledging the fact that words had come from his mouth. This man wasn’t worth the pleasantries. So far as she was concerned, this was just a means to keep up appearances. A random patient to further the subterfuge she was crafting for her ‘civilian life.’ Surely this soldier couldn’t possibly compare to any of her experiments. She suspected that after a few quick questions and a psych assessment, she could dismiss the man and pass him along to someone lower than her.
Oh, she would have to turn on the charm eventually, lest she ruins her own image, but she did not need to start with the honey. No self-respecting doctor acted like a witless moron around their patients. Once he had divulged his trauma, then, perhaps, she could coddle the man a little. But for now? She could show her true face. That uncaring, indifferent persona so often associated with the medical profession. Until then, however…
If he could Channel… Well, that would be something else entirely. But the file had all but confirmed his normality. There were no notes on extraordinary abilities, so again, Meera had to ask herself why this man had been offered up to her, the Mirror.
Meera wheeled herself to the desk and parked her chair behind it, shuffling the multitude of papers before her, taking care not to acknowledge the man before she was ready to. He was not in control here, even if he had spoken first. This was her office. He was subject to her will.
“I’m sure.”
She did not lift her eyes from his file; if anything she made a great show of sifting through the many papers contained in the manilla folder. Nothing in his file suggested he was worth her while. An ex-soldier with PTSD? Boring. Sure, she could have some fun with this one, but why waste the energy? And, really, she shouldn’t torment this poor, unfortunate soul unless her superiors had dictated it. Only the Channelers were free game; everyone else? Well, they were to be handled delicately.
“Lynx-san. It seems that you have been recommended into my care by your Sensei? Curious that your file does not list your Sensei’s name? May I ask for it?” She spoke with a clear, crisp tone, “You may refer to me as Alam-sama, by the way.” She finally turned her gaze upon the ex-soldier, with a forced smile.
“I only ask because I simply must know what type of care you have endured before coming into my Office. This file is particularly sparse, so I suspect we shall have to get to know each other a little better before we proceed- should I choose to treat you…”
Meera’s delicate hands gathered up the papers and shuffled them back into the manila folder.
“I do not mean to be short with you, Lynx-san, however, I only take on the most serious of patients. There are so many in the world that suffer debilitations of the mind… So tell me, what ails you? Why are you here? Why have you asked for me specifically?”
Meera’s lips quirked into a rictus.
"She had tortured hundreds, maybe thousands, in the name of understanding and reason. Torture made sense. You truly saw what a person was made of, in more ways than one, when you began to slice into them. That was a phrase she'd used on numerous occasions. It usually made her smile."
- The Wheel of Time, The Gathering Storm, Chapter 22, Robert Jordan