[Mukuro was well aware something needed to be done. She'd been in Avalon for nearly 6 months- and outside of the controlled environment of Junko's killing game, she was struggling to cope with keeping up the act.
And, you know, deal with her own death. And her sister Junko betraying her. And killing her.
...This was a good idea. Talking about all this would help, right? And so, she headed into the office, admiring the pretty building whilst she waited for someone to see her.]
( Maruki is in the midst of writing up some notes when the main door opens. the yurt itself has a small partition between the small reception area Kaede uses and Maruki's office, and he pokes his head out of the door as he hears someone walk in. )
Hi, Enoshima-san, right? Come on in.
( when she does, she's greeted by a small room lit by all glass windows which have an odd, magical sheen to them and mismatched furniture. there's a few plants littered by the windows, an old bookshelf with several books and plenty of space yet to be filled, and no desk, instead offering a couch, a small side table with a plate of cookies, and an armchair. )
Thanks. I hope it feels comfortable for you. ( before Shujin, this place may have looked more traditionally "office" like, with parties separated by desks, but his time at the school showed that there's value to these more casual settings too.
there's a moment's pause, so Enoshima-san can get comfortable and he can grab his clipboard, before Maruki launches into the basic explanation: his therapy style tends to be more based around talking, that she's welcome to speak about anything she wants to, no matter how unrelated it might be to the reasons she sought counselling in the first place. he might ask her to practice certain therapeutic exercises at home if necessary, as part of her treatment. that everything is perfectly confidential and will never leave these four walls, the windows are enchanted so no one can look in or hear anything. )
— I think that covers everything. So. What would you like to talk about?
[Homura took a long, deep breath as she sat down on the chair, waiting for Maruki to be ready. This had to be done, she constantly told herself in her mind. She wanted to get so much off her chest. She needed this, to try and return back to normal.
She soon finally entered the office, though looked hesitant. And tired. Let's just say she had trouble sleeping lately. Having to hunt and cook constantly for some parties was a big factor in that too.]
( his last patient has left, but Maruki is running behind a little bit, writing more notes than he expected in the aftermath. it ends with him yelping at the sight of a clock and rushing to the door that partitions the reception part of the yurt and the office itself.
but soon enough, he lets Homura in and gestures for her to choose between a cosy looking armchair or a small, mismatched but equally plush looking, couch. the small side table between them hosts a couple of croissants and the daylight is still streaming in through the glass which has been enchanted for privacy. )
Thanks for coming. I hope you didn't have too much trouble finding this place.
( he'll move onto a small explanation of confidentiality and how his sessions work, how they can talk about anything she feels like and how, if necessary, he may assign her small tasks to do at home between sessions. )
[Between the two, she opts for the couch, figuring she may eventually need to lay down given the storm approaching that were her feelings. Even takes a croissant too and scarfs it down; overall not bad for the first time eating one of those.]
I tend to get exercise running around this place. Helps me scope out places.
[Mostly to know where she could run to for certain stuff. Knowing the area was important for emergencies, and fighting. She listens carefully to the explanation. Back then, she would have been more wary. Now though...screw it. She didn’t abide by either side in the shinobi battles anymore. Those rules didn’t affect her, and she already revealed herself publicly.]
I guess I can start at the beginning, so you can at least know where I come from. Already stated it on the network before, but I can say it again.
[She took a long, deep breath. Time to explain this crap again.]
I was a born to a family of good shinobi, powerful ones too. Don’t really remember anyone beyond my parents. It wasn’t the strictest life, I could still play games and have fun. But they demanded absolute perfection, and I couldn’t always keep up. If I did that, they rarely cared what I did, so long as I didn’t ruin my chances of getting into a good shinobi school. But...well I’m not good at schoolwork, and I couldn’t even have a social life anymore. As I started to approach high school, things grew more difficult. Enough so that they wanted to hire a tutor.
He...helped make me feel at ease. Kinda liked the guy over time. With so much pressure, I stupidly spilled the beans about my family, hoping he’d return my feelings. Turns out, he was a sadistic son of a bitch who wanted to torture me before killing me, mocking how my heart was broken. From then...I don’t remember a thing. All I saw was red before I was on top of him, all his bones broken.
Turns out though, I wasn’t exactly a queen of stealth, so this attracted a lot of attention from the good shinobi. Breaking so many rules, they banned me from ever even going to a school, claiming I was far too unstable. And my parents? Kicked my ass to the curb with a family sword they sure as hell couldn’t use, and left me to die.
[As she explained a rather dark past, she seemed mostly composed, not even looking at Maruki. Truthfully, she was mostly over this. But mostly was the keyword thanks to the soul pool.]
That's always good exercise. ( he's started jogging again since he got here. it's been good to get his fitness levels back up, because goodness knows the last time he sprinted back in Tokyo he ended up a panting mess. a quick rundown of the usual privacy things and...
she's willing to get straight to business, so he's willing to listen, sitting comfortably in the chair with his clipboard and pen at the ready. he doesn't interject while she speaks, instead doing his best to note down the particulars of her world alongside her personal details.
not an academic. trust issues due to betrayal. rejected by others.
it's funny, but despite the wild differences between where she comes from and present day Tokyo, her problems are similar to what a lot of the students at Shujin approached him with. I'm not doing as well as my parents want, I don't know how to juggle my school work with cram school and a part time job, I told my friend a secret and she betrayed me, I don't fit in anywhere. Nobody wants me.
some things stay the same, no matter what the world can do. )
I see. That's an awful lot to go through at such a young age. ( step one: validate it. and his words are honest. that's a terrible amount of burden for a girl who looks so young. ) Was that the last thing to happen to you before arriving here?
As if his heart's still considering, barely-there, uncertain knocking lands a little too softly. But... his problem's sprouting fangs again, and he isn't so stupidly proud to be claiming its bite doesn't wound him. He's willing to try things.]
( ah, it's time for another appointment. and it's a good job he's just finished putting away some documents relating to his last patient. the door between the small reception area and the main office swings open and he steps aside with a smile. )
Of course. Come in. Make yourself comfortable.
( the office itself looks less like an office and more like a lounge, decorated with a mismatched, plush armchair and couch, a small side table with a plate of cookies, and several bookshelves which are yet to be fully adorned with books or decorations, as well as a securely locked filing cabinet in the corner. the windows let in lots of natural light but glint in a way that suggests something magical to them.
like a few enchantments for security and privacy's sake. )
[Slipping right past him. His eyes drift everywhere: along the windows, across his floor, to trace the nearly-bare shelving. He sits, though, rigidly, uncomfortably alert despite their charming surroundings. Hands on knees, holding soldier-stiff posture. The strangest he's felt. Trying to relax a bit more.
Maya had found out a therapist had set up shop in Camelot, an outworlder, so he could get the added stresses that come with being here. On top of what was already dragging Maya down from the start.
And Maya knew she'd need to talk to someone, because you can't just bottle up your pain forever. She's tried.
She's failed.
Instead of knocking on the yurt door she just, tries it and comes in. Quiet like a grave. Maya was good at moving around without making noises before everything? But after, well, near silence was a thing she just did from time to time. "Um, I heard there was a doctor here?"
He isn't necessarily expecting anyone at this moment in time, but given that walk ins are always an option, Maruki doesn't try to leave the premises just yet. The lack of anyone also means he has a few minutes to catch up on reading the latest book he's loaned out of the library, flicking through pages on the finer points of touch-based memory recall — not exactly the most relevant facet of Cognitive Magic for him, but interesting nonetheless.
He's just finishing the chapter when the voice of someone just beyond the partition catches his ears and brings him to the door to the office.
"That's me. Dr. Takuto Maruki at your service. Are you here for an appointment? I'm free right now if you are."
There's an empty space, Maya doesn't respond right away, like she's taking her time to resolve how to say anything. It's clear there's a lot going on in her eyes, little shifts in her body language. But no words without a few beats. "I need a therapist. I had one at home, but now I'm here so..."
There's not a lot of emotion to it, closest term is resignation. But that's still not quite on the dot. She walks up to the door to his office. She could have pretended she was okay, put on that false smile, pretend to be someone who vanished a long time ago. But she does want to be better. "Can I sit down? This- I've been through a lot."
[Therapy as a concept is not a thing that exists in Fódlan. Marianne's recovery from her lowest point has come instead with the assistance of her faith, friends so close that she considers them family, and the opportunity to literally face down the darkest of her demons. She considers herself fortunate and blessed to be able to finally look to the future and consider a life worth living, emotional scars and all.
Still, what happened last month with the Hall of Mirrors has left her a bit shaken. Her concerns at this point have less to do with the experience itself and more with her reactions to it. More than once, she felt like the depressed teenager she thought she had left far behind. It has her worried, and she'd much prefer to be proactive than risk backsliding entirely.
So here she is, sitting in Dr. Maruki's office and picking nervously at the edge of her sleeves. He says he's an expert, and perhaps he'll be able to use that expertise to help her keep going forward.]
( it's strange, still, to be counselling so many people from so many different worlds. it challenges his approach to mental health and the assumptions he's always held. it's a good thing, even if this wasn't exactly where he'd hoped to be in life by this point.
he hasn't touched the pain au chocolats on the side table masquerading as a coffee table between the two seating options, one leg crossed over the other as he looks over the paper on his clipboard, still mostly empty but for her name. )
So—
( he gives, more or less, the same explanation to every patient: this is a talking based therapy where she can talk about anything she wants. it doesn't have to be related to the reason she decided to come in the first place. if she wants to sit and talk about her favourite snacks for an hour, he's happy to do that. sometimes, he might give her "homework" — exercises he wants her to try and incorporate into her daily life — but that will be talked out as necessary. lastly, everything is confidential, there are enchantments on the windows that obscure people's view in and soundproof the yurt, and nothing will leave these four walls.
[Marianne listens to the explanation attentively, occasionally nodding to show that she understands. The idea of speaking about herself to an absolute stranger like this is still a bit of a strange one, even as she's already decided that it would be helpful for her.
The biggest hurdle at the moment, however, is that she has no idea where to begin. Dr. Maruki's open-ended approach doesn't make that decision any easier.]
Should I start by telling you about Fódlan? Or do you already know about it from one of the other people from Fódlan who are here?
[ kotone knows how badly she's been fucking things up lately. she's been told from all sides that she's not handling things well, that she's letting herself hurt other people because she's just... wallowing. and it's come up that she needs to talk to—someone. anyone.
not yukari or mitsuru. she's already messed up there. it wouldn't be fair to put more of this on akira, either. shinjiro or ken would be no help, beyond just... making her feel a little less alone. and she doesn't really know anyone else well enough.
but she's heard about this place, and she remembers maruki from the vernal pools. so, finally, she'd made an appointment, and gotten herself together well enough to go over there.
in contrast to how she looked in the pools, she... honestly, she can't pretend to be anything but tired. there's no spring in her step or can-do attitude—just headphones, no makeup, a gloomy expression and a salmon colored hoodie. there's something altogether haunted in those red eyes.
she's got her headphones around her neck, hood down to show her hair tied up in a simple ponytail. the effort to do anything more complicated with it is beyond her, lately. ]
It's nice to finally meet on this side. [ she tries to offer a smile, but it doesn't really take. ] Um... thanks, for making the time to see me.
[ the only counselors she's ever seen, as far as she remembers, are the ones her case workers made her visit while she was in the system. it was... less than productive. ]
( it's always a little startling to see someone for the first time in a while and have them look different, and painful to see that difference be clearly negative, but it's one of the things you have to be prepared for in mental health and so Maruki is quick to offer a warm smile.
the most important thing is that she made her way here, and he'll do his best to make her feel welcomed and helped. )
Of course. I'm glad we could finally meet. ( which he is. and he gestures to the couch, the armchair, whichever of the two she'd prefer to sit at. there are a plate of brownies on the small table between them, freshly bought from the bakery nearby. )
Before we start, I just want you to know that everything discussed here is confidential. ( there's a whole spiel which he's bound by at least home world ethics to explain, and he does. he goes over the therapy style — talking, maybe some "homework", just little tasks she can keep doing between sessions that will help reinforce things spoken about during them. the windows are enchanted, soundproofed, etc, and his notes are secured. all the bases he took for security measures, things like that. he can't talk about anything relating to his job, etc. )
[ the spiel is only slightly different from the explanations she's heard before and only half-remembers. kotone nods, finally, making a vague assenting noise as she reaches for one of the brownies and takes a bite. ]
That's fine. [ she folds her legs underneath her in the chair, taking a deep breath. ]
You're from mine and Akira's world, anyway, right? So... heh, guess that makes this easier. [ either he knows akira or that other life at shujin was an enormous coincidence. still. ] Where do you want me to start?
[ it's a somewhat odd way to put it, like she's used to thinking of this in terms of what her counselor might like to hear. ]
[It feels so strange, the idea of coming out here to talk to stranger about things that he doesn't even want to admit to. But Marianne had insisted it helped, that this man was a professional and-
Well just because she's not here to talk to she wouldn't want him to stop talking. Even if it's hard. Maybe especially because it's hard.
He's dressed in the sort of layers that he's accustomed to back home, even if he doesn't quite have the same level of formality here. But it eases his anxiety to be done up properly rather than in something he'd wear to work when he finally raises a hand to knock on the door, sharp and crisp and not at all like he's been standing outside hemming and hawing about actually coming in for the better part of ten minutes.
Not that he'd let himself back out now. He'd made an appointment and it would be incredibly rude to waste a professional's time like that.]
( Maruki would always recommend coming to a counselling session in something you're comfortable in, even if the man he opens the door to is dressed far more intricately than he would expect from the majority of his patients. still, he schools his face to not show more than a flicker of surprise — this is the multiverse, after all, and everyone has different standards of what "normal" is. that's something he's doing his best to remember.
so he offers a smile and steps aside, ushering Lorenz in. )
I'm glad you made it. ( the place isn't too hard to find, but as far as greetings go, that's a relatively safe and neutral one. he leads Lorenz the couple of steps into the main counselling area — set up with second hand furniture and a cosy couple of mismatched seating options, a side table masquerading as a coffee table and holding a plate of shortbread, and bookshelves which have steadily grown more and more full over the months of owning this place. )
Please, sit wherever's comfortable and help yourself.
[He smiles, bowing slightly once he steps inside. A small gesture of deference to the professional, despite his standing. Polite etiquette drives him to take a small piece of shortbread, even if he's rather certain that he would be more likely to be sick than hungry. Hardly the first time he's taken food he has no interest in for the sake of politeness.
He settles himself into an armchair, something that looks firm enough that he won't sink back into it, instead perching at it's edge, ankles crossed neatly, back perfectly straight.]
Thank you for agreeing to see me, sir. Marianne spoke highly of you and... I fear with her absence I am... I suppose a bit lost, myself.
[ A well-meaning suggestion, Juza's awkwardness right here, these things don't seem to mix well. That his very presence, with his perma-glare, disrupts the mood of a room 's nothing new to him; he couldn't really say his name at the reception in a tone other than his own. "Juza Hyodo." Like he's stepping into a fighting ring and getting himself announced. He doesn't need magic to know what people are thinking. Besides, it seems out of place in here.
Doctor, and all that... makes you think of some sterile room, few colors, and the expectation to feel a little uneasy... It's just that he's never been involved for anything other than a bruise or a break. Turning and bolting back out isn't what's first on his mind, though. As far as looks go to be deceiving, he came by himself as much as of his own. ]
Hm? [ He missed the content of 'make yourself comfortable' to mean take a seat anywhere, though. ] Ah, anywhere......
( the yurt looks less like a doctor's office and more like someone's living room — it's a far cry from his first counselling office in Tokyo, which was very much a basic office, or Shujin's nurse's room, but he likes it. it's comfortable and the all glass look keeps things bright while offering a view that's a big improvement over school grounds or busy streets. )
I know there isn't a lot of space, but...
( y'know. just sit. chill. let him get a better look at this young man. for whatever it's worth, Maruki doesn't seem all that intimidated — having Hastur as a familiar wouldn't go over very well if he was easily cowed by quiet and harsh looking beings.
besides, when the young man speaks, he seems quieter than that. and so Maruki quickly pulls out a box of cookies he's had stashed in the filing cabinet, arranging them nicely on a plate while Juza settles in. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
It begins... (tw killing game/sororicide ment)
And, you know, deal with her own death. And her sister Junko betraying her. And killing her.
...This was a good idea. Talking about all this would help, right? And so, she headed into the office, admiring the pretty building whilst she waited for someone to see her.]
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Hi, Enoshima-san, right? Come on in.
( when she does, she's greeted by a small room lit by all glass windows which have an odd, magical sheen to them and mismatched furniture. there's a few plants littered by the windows, an old bookshelf with several books and plenty of space yet to be filled, and no desk, instead offering a couch, a small side table with a plate of cookies, and an armchair. )
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[She'll follow Maruki into the room, taking a look around. So this was his office?]
I'm seriously liking the decoration in here- it's like, totally aesthetic, you know??
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there's a moment's pause, so Enoshima-san can get comfortable and he can grab his clipboard, before Maruki launches into the basic explanation: his therapy style tends to be more based around talking, that she's welcome to speak about anything she wants to, no matter how unrelated it might be to the reasons she sought counselling in the first place. he might ask her to practice certain therapeutic exercises at home if necessary, as part of her treatment. that everything is perfectly confidential and will never leave these four walls, the windows are enchanted so no one can look in or hear anything. )
— I think that covers everything. So. What would you like to talk about?
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cw: possible mentions of murder, abuse, etc
She soon finally entered the office, though looked hesitant. And tired. Let's just say she had trouble sleeping lately. Having to hunt and cook constantly for some parties was a big factor in that too.]
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but soon enough, he lets Homura in and gestures for her to choose between a cosy looking armchair or a small, mismatched but equally plush looking, couch. the small side table between them hosts a couple of croissants and the daylight is still streaming in through the glass which has been enchanted for privacy. )
Thanks for coming. I hope you didn't have too much trouble finding this place.
( he'll move onto a small explanation of confidentiality and how his sessions work, how they can talk about anything she feels like and how, if necessary, he may assign her small tasks to do at home between sessions. )
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I tend to get exercise running around this place. Helps me scope out places.
[Mostly to know where she could run to for certain stuff. Knowing the area was important for emergencies, and fighting. She listens carefully to the explanation. Back then, she would have been more wary. Now though...screw it. She didn’t abide by either side in the shinobi battles anymore. Those rules didn’t affect her, and she already revealed herself publicly.]
I guess I can start at the beginning, so you can at least know where I come from. Already stated it on the network before, but I can say it again.
[She took a long, deep breath. Time to explain this crap again.]
I was a born to a family of good shinobi, powerful ones too. Don’t really remember anyone beyond my parents. It wasn’t the strictest life, I could still play games and have fun. But they demanded absolute perfection, and I couldn’t always keep up. If I did that, they rarely cared what I did, so long as I didn’t ruin my chances of getting into a good shinobi school. But...well I’m not good at schoolwork, and I couldn’t even have a social life anymore. As I started to approach high school, things grew more difficult. Enough so that they wanted to hire a tutor.
He...helped make me feel at ease. Kinda liked the guy over time. With so much pressure, I stupidly spilled the beans about my family, hoping he’d return my feelings. Turns out, he was a sadistic son of a bitch who wanted to torture me before killing me, mocking how my heart was broken. From then...I don’t remember a thing. All I saw was red before I was on top of him, all his bones broken.
Turns out though, I wasn’t exactly a queen of stealth, so this attracted a lot of attention from the good shinobi. Breaking so many rules, they banned me from ever even going to a school, claiming I was far too unstable. And my parents? Kicked my ass to the curb with a family sword they sure as hell couldn’t use, and left me to die.
[As she explained a rather dark past, she seemed mostly composed, not even looking at Maruki. Truthfully, she was mostly over this. But mostly was the keyword thanks to the soul pool.]
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she's willing to get straight to business, so he's willing to listen, sitting comfortably in the chair with his clipboard and pen at the ready. he doesn't interject while she speaks, instead doing his best to note down the particulars of her world alongside her personal details.
not an academic. trust issues due to betrayal. rejected by others.
it's funny, but despite the wild differences between where she comes from and present day Tokyo, her problems are similar to what a lot of the students at Shujin approached him with. I'm not doing as well as my parents want, I don't know how to juggle my school work with cram school and a part time job, I told my friend a secret and she betrayed me, I don't fit in anywhere. Nobody wants me.
some things stay the same, no matter what the world can do. )
I see. That's an awful lot to go through at such a young age. ( step one: validate it. and his words are honest. that's a terrible amount of burden for a girl who looks so young. ) Was that the last thing to happen to you before arriving here?
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[Pretending it's Thursday]
As if his heart's still considering, barely-there, uncertain knocking lands a little too softly. But... his problem's sprouting fangs again, and he isn't so stupidly proud to be claiming its bite doesn't wound him. He's willing to try things.]
Maruki-sensei? It's Shoto.
you mean it isn't? time is fake.
Of course. Come in. Make yourself comfortable.
( the office itself looks less like an office and more like a lounge, decorated with a mismatched, plush armchair and couch, a small side table with a plate of cookies, and several bookshelves which are yet to be fully adorned with books or decorations, as well as a securely locked filing cabinet in the corner. the windows let in lots of natural light but glint in a way that suggests something magical to them.
like a few enchantments for security and privacy's sake. )
F... facts...
[Slipping right past him. His eyes drift everywhere: along the windows, across his floor, to trace the nearly-bare shelving. He sits, though, rigidly, uncomfortably alert despite their charming surroundings. Hands on knees, holding soldier-stiff posture. The strangest he's felt. Trying to relax a bit more.
He's eyeing the sweets.]
Are these for anyone?
[Small but hopeful.]
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Content Warning: Talk of Depression and Suicide.
And Maya knew she'd need to talk to someone, because you can't just bottle up your pain forever. She's tried.
She's failed.
Instead of knocking on the yurt door she just, tries it and comes in. Quiet like a grave. Maya was good at moving around without making noises before everything? But after, well, near silence was a thing she just did from time to time. "Um, I heard there was a doctor here?"
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He's just finishing the chapter when the voice of someone just beyond the partition catches his ears and brings him to the door to the office.
"That's me. Dr. Takuto Maruki at your service. Are you here for an appointment? I'm free right now if you are."
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There's not a lot of emotion to it, closest term is resignation. But that's still not quite on the dot. She walks up to the door to his office. She could have pretended she was okay, put on that false smile, pretend to be someone who vanished a long time ago. But she does want to be better. "Can I sit down? This- I've been through a lot."
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cw: probably talk of depression, previous suicidal ideation
Still, what happened last month with the Hall of Mirrors has left her a bit shaken. Her concerns at this point have less to do with the experience itself and more with her reactions to it. More than once, she felt like the depressed teenager she thought she had left far behind. It has her worried, and she'd much prefer to be proactive than risk backsliding entirely.
So here she is, sitting in Dr. Maruki's office and picking nervously at the edge of her sleeves. He says he's an expert, and perhaps he'll be able to use that expertise to help her keep going forward.]
Um, thank you for being willing to see me.
<3 mariiiii
( it's strange, still, to be counselling so many people from so many different worlds. it challenges his approach to mental health and the assumptions he's always held. it's a good thing, even if this wasn't exactly where he'd hoped to be in life by this point.
he hasn't touched the pain au chocolats on the side table masquerading as a coffee table between the two seating options, one leg crossed over the other as he looks over the paper on his clipboard, still mostly empty but for her name. )
So—
( he gives, more or less, the same explanation to every patient: this is a talking based therapy where she can talk about anything she wants. it doesn't have to be related to the reason she decided to come in the first place. if she wants to sit and talk about her favourite snacks for an hour, he's happy to do that. sometimes, he might give her "homework" — exercises he wants her to try and incorporate into her daily life — but that will be talked out as necessary. lastly, everything is confidential, there are enchantments on the windows that obscure people's view in and soundproof the yurt, and nothing will leave these four walls.
uh.
well. metaphorically speaking. )
♥ she's finally here!
The biggest hurdle at the moment, however, is that she has no idea where to begin. Dr. Maruki's open-ended approach doesn't make that decision any easier.]
Should I start by telling you about Fódlan? Or do you already know about it from one of the other people from Fódlan who are here?
[Maybe she's not his first patient from home?]
cutest bean
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cw: brief mention of suicidal ideation
canon typical persona 3 cws related to death and depression etc
not yukari or mitsuru. she's already messed up there. it wouldn't be fair to put more of this on akira, either. shinjiro or ken would be no help, beyond just... making her feel a little less alone. and she doesn't really know anyone else well enough.
but she's heard about this place, and she remembers maruki from the vernal pools. so, finally, she'd made an appointment, and gotten herself together well enough to go over there.
in contrast to how she looked in the pools, she... honestly, she can't pretend to be anything but tired. there's no spring in her step or can-do attitude—just headphones, no makeup, a gloomy expression and a salmon colored hoodie. there's something altogether haunted in those red eyes.
she's got her headphones around her neck, hood down to show her hair tied up in a simple ponytail. the effort to do anything more complicated with it is beyond her, lately. ]
It's nice to finally meet on this side. [ she tries to offer a smile, but it doesn't really take. ] Um... thanks, for making the time to see me.
[ the only counselors she's ever seen, as far as she remembers, are the ones her case workers made her visit while she was in the system. it was... less than productive. ]
persona pls find some chill
the most important thing is that she made her way here, and he'll do his best to make her feel welcomed and helped. )
Of course. I'm glad we could finally meet. ( which he is. and he gestures to the couch, the armchair, whichever of the two she'd prefer to sit at. there are a plate of brownies on the small table between them, freshly bought from the bakery nearby. )
Before we start, I just want you to know that everything discussed here is confidential. ( there's a whole spiel which he's bound by at least home world ethics to explain, and he does. he goes over the therapy style — talking, maybe some "homework", just little tasks she can keep doing between sessions that will help reinforce things spoken about during them. the windows are enchanted, soundproofed, etc, and his notes are secured. all the bases he took for security measures, things like that. he can't talk about anything relating to his job, etc. )
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That's fine. [ she folds her legs underneath her in the chair, taking a deep breath. ]
You're from mine and Akira's world, anyway, right? So... heh, guess that makes this easier. [ either he knows akira or that other life at shujin was an enormous coincidence. still. ] Where do you want me to start?
[ it's a somewhat odd way to put it, like she's used to thinking of this in terms of what her counselor might like to hear. ]
(no subject)
late October (CWs internalized homophobia, probably childhood neglect/emotional abuse)
Well just because she's not here to talk to she wouldn't want him to stop talking. Even if it's hard. Maybe especially because it's hard.
He's dressed in the sort of layers that he's accustomed to back home, even if he doesn't quite have the same level of formality here. But it eases his anxiety to be done up properly rather than in something he'd wear to work when he finally raises a hand to knock on the door, sharp and crisp and not at all like he's been standing outside hemming and hawing about actually coming in for the better part of ten minutes.
Not that he'd let himself back out now. He'd made an appointment and it would be incredibly rude to waste a professional's time like that.]
baby boy ;;
so he offers a smile and steps aside, ushering Lorenz in. )
I'm glad you made it. ( the place isn't too hard to find, but as far as greetings go, that's a relatively safe and neutral one. he leads Lorenz the couple of steps into the main counselling area — set up with second hand furniture and a cosy couple of mismatched seating options, a side table masquerading as a coffee table and holding a plate of shortbread, and bookshelves which have steadily grown more and more full over the months of owning this place. )
Please, sit wherever's comfortable and help yourself.
it's fiiiine
He settles himself into an armchair, something that looks firm enough that he won't sink back into it, instead perching at it's edge, ankles crossed neatly, back perfectly straight.]
Thank you for agreeing to see me, sir. Marianne spoke highly of you and... I fear with her absence I am... I suppose a bit lost, myself.
(no subject)
(no subject)
cookie cure 🍪
Doctor, and all that... makes you think of some sterile room, few colors, and the expectation to feel a little uneasy... It's just that he's never been involved for anything other than a bruise or a break. Turning and bolting back out isn't what's first on his mind, though. As far as looks go to be deceiving, he came by himself as much as of his own. ]
Hm? [ He missed the content of 'make yourself comfortable' to mean take a seat anywhere, though. ] Ah, anywhere......
cookiessss
I know there isn't a lot of space, but...
( y'know. just sit. chill. let him get a better look at this young man. for whatever it's worth, Maruki doesn't seem all that intimidated — having Hastur as a familiar wouldn't go over very well if he was easily cowed by quiet and harsh looking beings.
besides, when the young man speaks, he seems quieter than that. and so Maruki quickly pulls out a box of cookies he's had stashed in the filing cabinet, arranging them nicely on a plate while Juza settles in. )
Feel free to take a cookie if you'd like.