[quote][i][color=gray][color=white]"How are you feeling today, Luce?"[/color]

Luce sat quietly, coldly, staring Dr. Mercia in the face as the psychiatrist looked back, poised over the edge of a clipboard, pen in hand and sympathetic smile waning as the tension in the room built. Luce had been silent since she'd entered the room for her weekly session; this was not unusual. Gila was used to having to prompt Luce. But the silence this morning felt thicker, heavier on their shoulders, and somehow grimy and unfriendly. It had changed, not born from Luce's previous meekness and anxiety; instead, this silence was the result of the sheer animosity that radiated from Luce in red-hot waves, an invisible but very-much present-and-felt barrier between patient and therapist. Gila Mercia knew all of this, and knew that the relationship between them had been fundamentally altered, and would likely never be repaired. And yet, she couldn't simply [b]give up[/b] on Luce; she had a medical duty to her patients, and more pointedly a [b]moral[/b] duty to the people who had suffered from this fresh trauma. Some of them were beyond help, she thought darkly - those who remained deserved to put themselves back together.

[color=9370D8]"Fine."[/color] Luce offered back, short and terse like Gila was used to but with venom that hadn't been there in their last session. Their session before the plateau incident. Dr. Mercia's hand flitted across her clipboard as she made quick notes. 'Angry'. 'Hostile'. 'Guarded'. On reflection, it was all very obvious. What was the point? Posterity? Record-keeping? 
[color=white]"Have you been taking your medication?"[/color] Gila asked, feeling like she was merely going through the motions - but the motions had reasons to be gone through. Normalcy was a rock in stormy seas; she needed to offer Luce what she could.
[color=9370D8]"The Xanax? Sure."[/color]
[color=white]"And have you found they've been helping?"[/color]
Luce smiled an unsettling smile. [color=9370D8]"Not at all."[/color]

Gila decided to change tack. [color=white]"Have you been sleeping?"[/color] She asked, knowing the answer and again scribbling on her clipboard. 'Medication insufficient'. 'Sleep difficult'. 
Sleep was difficult for everyone.
[color=9370D8]"In pieces."[/color] Luce answered. [color=9370D8]"Usually not by choice."[/color] 
Many students had been seen micro-napping in cafeterias, classrooms, libraries. A biological result of sleep deprivation brought on by PTSD-driven night terrors. Luce had had issues with sleep even prior to the incident. 
[color=white]"Have you returned to the greenhouse?"[/color]
[color=9370D8]"Once. The panes had shattered. Plants didn't survive the storm."[/color] Luce broke her rancorous stare to glance briefly at her hands, taped and band-aided to cover paper-thin scratches and scars where she'd shredded her fingers scrabbling in glass-filled soil trying to replant and save even a handful of seedlings. She'd failed. Just another failure to add to the list. She folded her hands in her lap, and returned to staring bitterly at Dr. Mercia. 

There was a pause between them. Shocking Gila, Luce was the first to break it.

[color=9370D8]"Is this really the best you can fucking do?"[/color] She asked, her tone accusatory and dangerous.
[color=white]"I'm sorry?"[/color] Gila responded, unable to catch herself before the shock of Luce's words and tone wore off, a knee-jerk reply to something she'd never expect from Luce.
[color=9370D8]"Feelings? Pills? Sleep? The fucking greenhouse? Is this really the best you can do?"[/color]

Dr. Mercia floundered, blind-sided by this unexpected salvo. She set the clipboard down, her mind racing to find the words to retake control of the session.
[color=white]"It's important to maintain a routine, a baseline - it helps return a sense of control and normality-"[/color]
Luce sneered. [color=9370D8]"What the fuck is 'normality'? Are you serious? Cassander is dead. [b]Dead.[/b] To the hands of a terrorist who controls storms, multiplies, makes people fly with a thought. What's fucking [b]normal[/b] about [b]any[/b] of this?!"[/color] 
Luce had risen from her seat as the anger took hold, her voice raising to never-before-used levels. She was frightening herself, though she'd never admit it; to Gila's credit, the doctor remained calm and seated. Luce breathed, and returned to her seat, her face fading into an emotionless mask. 
[color=9370D8]"This place is full of fucking [b]liars[/b]."[/color]

That was something Gila could pivot on, a focal point for the session.
[color=white]"What lies do you feel are being spread, Luce?"[/color]
[color=9370D8]"About this academy being fucking [b]SAFE![/b]"[/color] She suddenly shouted, and from beyond the office door the usual hustle-bustle of passing students and faculty momentarily paused before resuming, slightly more subdued than previously.
[color=white]"I understand you feel vulnerable - the incident was unprecedented, unpredictable. No one saw it coming."[/color]
[color=9370D8]"No one even fucking [b]thought about it[/b]. You all thought the school was untouchable. Promised to keep us safe. You can't even keep [b]yourselves[/b] safe, let alone your students. Rude fucking awakening, wasn't it? Good thing no [b]teachers[/b] got killed, right?"[/color]

Luce's face was turning red, and her hands were trembling. Dr. Mercia recognized the signs of rage, and this anger was threatening to spill over and derail everything, at which point Luce would be inconsolable and any progress completely undone. 
[color=white]"I understand. The academy has stood many long years, and takes its security very seriously. The incident was on a level beyond realistic projectio-"[/color]
[color=9370D8]"I want to see Dr. Lehrer."[/color]

Gila gently shook her head. [color=white]"The Chancellor is extremely busy, evaluating what happened and taking measures to make sure it never happens again. He will have time for everyone, but not now."[/color]
[color=9370D8]"Let me see Jonas, [b]right fucking now.[/b]"[/color]
Gila shut Luce down. [color=white]"[b]No.[/b] You're highly-agitated, spiraling into rage, and you will take that emotion and turn it into fuel for something you will regret. You need to sit down, let go of anger, and then when you're [b]calm[/b], Dr. Lehrer will be happy to diarise a session. He could even join one of ours-"[/color]
[color=9370D8]"You're a patsy. Jonas' fucking lapdog. Think toeing his line will get you in with the clique? I know you're not a hype. Must sting. Must be alienating. You're just a tourist here, aren't you?"[/color]

Gila bit her tongue.
[color=white]"I think we should end today's session there."[/color]
She stood, putting away the clipboard in a drawer in her desk and walking to the locked medical cabinet in the corner of the room, pulling out two new bottles and a prescription pad.
[color=white]"I understand you're angry. Anger is natural when mourning. But you need to be calm and constructive and co-operate with these sessions, or they won't be of any use to you."[/color]
She sighed, looking her patient in the eye with a weary sadness that deflated Luce's fury. [color=white]"I don't want you to end up hurting yourself."[/color] Gila said softly.
[color=9370D8]"Don't worry about that, doctor. I don't."[/color] Luce answered. Gila pushed the two bottles across the desk toward her. Luce glanced at the labels: Fluoxetine. Clonazepam. 
[color=white]"If you experience prolonged nausea, vomiting, fever, diarrhea, or elevated heart rate, call me. If you see or hear anything that isn't there, come to my office immediately. Either myself or one of the medical staff will help you."[/color] Gila handed the bottles to Luce, who studied the warnings splashed across the label. [color=white]"These should help stabilize your mood to a better baseline and ease feelings of panic. Two of each a day after waking, with food and water. No more than two a day, okay?"[/color]

Luce popped the lid on both bottles and swallowed a mouthful of each before Gila could react, smirking as she replaced both caps. The expression was uncharacteristic, and pulled Luce's face in ways that looked off and uncanny.
[color=9370D8]"I feel better already."[/color] Luce lied. [color=9370D8]"And I don't really need to worry about OD'ing, do I?"[/color][/color][/i][/quote]

[CENTER][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1103007276735926392/1103776931813527612/Luce2.png[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=SILVER][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Northern Cove - Dundas Islands[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=SILVER][b]First Class #2.18:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Staring, The Abyss, and How I Became Haunted[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][sub][color=SILVER][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I][@Kuro], [@psych0pomp], [@webboysurf], [@PatientBean][/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=SILVER][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5446459]Corporate Retreat[/url][/I][/right][/SUP]
[INDENT][COLOR=GRAY]Luce stood at the shore of the beach in an icy silence that had become her new familiar. The boat holding Cass' body slowly drifted away from the lapping tides of the coast, and as Luce watched the flames grow brighter and fiercer, licking at Cass' pallid skin and beginning the slow process of cremation, she pictured herself in his place. She felt selfish doing so, twisting the tragedy of the loss into her own personal self-loathing party, but it was almost reflexive. She'd done the same at her brothers' joint funeral, considering - [i]wishing[/i] - herself in their position, a trade of places, giving all involved parties what they each deserved. Instead, Luce lived, again, another body in the ground beneath her twice-dead feet. 

[right][i]Storm, rain, whipping wind. Surrounded. Luce's face was warm, and she couldn't see quite right. No pain, though, but Luce had long-since learnt not to trust pain, or the absence of it. She raised a hand to her face. Something was jutting out some 2 inches from her cheek, and Luce followed it up her face, over her eye, and found the end of it halfway up her forehead. She frowned, drawing her hand back from whatever shard was now embedded in her skull, and only then noticed the shattered bone jutting out from her forearm. She flexed her fingers without impediment on the same arm, wiggling them in front of her face as her vision swam and re-sharpened, her system already compensating for the loss of her eye using other senses. She'd tried to stand, but stumbled, off-balance - quickly attributed to a snapped ankle. No bother. The protruding tibia functioned perfectly well as a homegrown peg-leg.[/i][/right] 

Absent-mindedly, Luce traced her finger down the fresh scar that ran from her forehead to her cheek-bone. The eye was fine, having healed as easily as her broken bones and torn skin. Three new scars. One new ghost. Luce wondered how many more of either she would accrue before finally being able to join Cass, or James, or Owen. Luce wondered if she'd [i]ever[/i] be able to join them. She'd failed twice already.

She shook her head. It didn't matter how long she stared at Cass' corpse; she couldn't will herself into feeling grief instead of the yawning [i]nothingness[/i] that ached inside her. Tears staunchly refused to flow, in contrast to much of those in attendance; Luce knew she looked insensitive, or apathetic, but she longed to be in their place, weeping for the tragedy of Cassander Charon, ripped away before his time for nothing more than trying to make a [i]difference.[/i] A difference she had abjectly rejected attempting herself, once again despite forces that deigned to make her uniquely capable of weathering such an attempt. And there it was; once again, circling the drain, trapped in a loop of self-loathing. She couldn't stand here and stare any longer. There was no point to it. She turned on her heel, briskly walking away from the shore and back toward campus, not really sure where she was going; she just had to leave the ghosts and their arraigning glares behind her, at least for now. She'd likely see them again this evening, tossing and turning in her bed, failing to sleep, a third figure joining the established double-act. 

She pushed through crowds, keeping her head down and avoiding attention, staring at feet clad in dress slacks and over-polished shoes. It was by sheer chance that she looked up and saw perhaps the only faces in the audience that held a semblance of recognition to her.

[quote=Kuro][color=D94A3F]"I'm going to kill them."[/color] Haleigh uttered to the Blackjack member that stood beside her. She wasn't sure who it had been exactly. [color=D94A3F]"Cass. Banjo. Jim. Tad. They're going to pay for everything."[/color][/quote]
[quote=psych0pomp][color=D90037]“Innit what Hyperion would want? Get angry? So, he can spout more stupidity about bein’ superior while we flop around like fish? Nah, I’m good. I ain’ bathin’ in blood for Cass. You can, though. You got the power to.”[/color] They held the hibiscus out to Haleigh. [color=D90037]“Aren’t you more interested to find out why us? Why Tad? How did they know we were goin’ to be out in the middle of nowhere? This place has its secrets, too, and I’m not happy playin’ that they’re innocent in this, either.”[/color][/quote]
[quote=webboysurf]Rory strolled over in their direction, lifting his hands to readjust his coat absent-mindedly. [color=FFF200]”Trace is right.”[/color] Those words felt weird coming out of his mouth. Rory didn’t make eye contact with the two of them, and kept his voice down to avoid drawing too much attention their way. [color=FFF200]”For now, at least. Cass tried, and I can’t do another funeral. I… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Asking why. It doesn’t make any sense to me… but that’s not new.”[/color] Rory paused for a moment, out of habit. Negative self talk wasn’t going to help right now. [color=FFF200]”I think we all deserve answers. No matter what it takes.”[/color][/quote]
[quote=PatientBean]Trace and Rory had spoken up, consoling Haleigh. Trace had a point. Why? That question wracked her own brain. [color=F796A9]"Hyperion is going to pay."[/color] Calli let her words hang there. She wanted to let this be about Cass' memory and not her own plans for vengeance. She got a notice that she was scheduled for therapy the following week. She felt her heart race again. She wrapped one hand around her wrist and took some deep breaths.[/quote]
[color=9370D8]"I'm with Haleigh and Calli. But I'm not doing it for Cass' memory. I'd do it to say I did [i]something[/i], instead of all the [i]nothing[/i] currently going."[/color] 
Anger was bubbling up in her again, and she let it; it was exciting to feel anything, no matter how toxic. She didn't have the energy to repress it anymore today.
[color=9370D8]"All this pushing on like everything's fucking [i]normal[/i] is insulting. It's insulting to Cass, it's insulting to Tad, and it's insulting to [i]us[/i] - how stupid do they think we are? The veil's fucking lifted now, we're not safe, we never were. Go back to normal? What the fuck is [i]normal[/i] about this place?!"[/color]
She was red in the face, but on a roll, and it just kept spilling out of her. Maybe this was the elusive mourning the faculty kept talking about; Luce didn't care. It felt [i]good.[/i] She rounded on Trace and Rory.
[color=9370D8]"That 'keep-the-peace' attitude is bullshit. You want to just sit around and wait for Hyperion to come back? All that talk about betters and lessers, and you think the best way to prove they're wrong is by doing nothing? The 'why' is [i]obvious[/i], isn't it? Isn't it?! Because they could! Because P.R.C.U. is a sham, and they had their heads shoved up their asses, and they thought they were untouchable, and they thought nothing could threaten them right up until Hyperion did. And their vanity got Cass [i]killed.[/i]"[/color]
A tear rolled down her cheek, tracing the line of the scar until it hung off her chin. 
[color=9370D8]"Hyperion and P.R.C.U. - both as culpable as the other. Both need to be taken down. This place needs a new leader, minimum, a chancellor who'll take security and the lives of those he promises to protect seriously. Worst-case the whole institution needs scrapping and rebuilding. We stand here, watching a peer and a friend get cremated at sea, and they expect us to file out and head to 'team swap' and 'house offers', like we're just coming back from recess?"[/color]
Luce wiped her face, aware she was out of control, aware she was embarrassing herself, aware aware aware but too far gone to stop it. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Mackenna approaching, and found the concept of putting up with her particular brand of faux-cheery veneer to be simply too exhausting to handle.
[color=9370D8]"There's one team, one house, one side now - 'Kill Hyperion'. If you're not on it, you're on [i]their[/i] side instead. And I am [i]not[/i] on their side."[/color]
She took a deep, shuddering breath, steadying herself before turning to leave. 
[color=9370D8]"If anyone else gives a shit about not letting Hyperion turn their 'new world order' bullshit into a living reality - you can find me in the ICU. I have to go beg forgiveness from the only [i]living[/i] non-coward on campus. You should all think about doing the same."[/color]
[/color][/indent]