Hi, Iâm Nonius. Just call me by my first name please. Itâs much easier than trying to wrestle with my last one. Itâs pronounced Ar-yee-ros, but I donât expect anyone to get it right on the first try.
Iâm the head of the Psychology Department, though, if Iâm being honest, itâs not because I have some burning passion for psychology. I just turned out to be good at it. I understand people, I can read a room, and I know how to keep things running. Somewhere along the line, skill replaced passion and here I am.
Iâm on antipsychotics and mood stabilizers to manage my BPD. Iâll admit I donât handle personal stress all that well, and I can be pretty awkward in general. Still, I take my work seriously and do my best to stay professional, even when everything feels a little chaotic.
So if I seem a bit off sometimes, just know Iâm trying, same as everyone else.
Don't ask me psychology questions, as stated previously, it's not a passion and I'm off the clock.
MORE FACE CLAIMS
BLOGS I INTERACT WITHđ đ
@vicodinvindication / @drbrooklyn
@doctorchesterinthehouse
@thecathoarder
@princetons-gayest-intern
@black-cat-doc
@andrios-vlahos
@dyingdoc
@thorne-everheart
@inneedofantidepressants
RANDOM FACTSđ đ
HES A MUSICIAN, HE ORGANIZES MUSICAL FUNDRAISERS FOR THE PSYCHOLOGY DEPARTMENT
He's southernđ
He has really poor emotional stability when he forgets his meds and can unintentionally offend his peers
HE HAS TWO OTTERSđ ONE IS CALLED AURUM AND THE OTHER IS ARGENTUM
HES A HELNIC POLYTHEIST AND HE WORSHIPS MERCURIO (Hermes) AND APOLLON (he does tend to call them by their Roman names since his father taught him the Roman names..)
HE'S COLOUR BLIND
HES A LIL GENDERFLUID, he mostly uses he/him, but he really doesn't give a shit.
He needs people to he incredibly blunt and doesn't seem to understand sarcasm too much. Yet he still manages to read people like books..
He used to live in North Carolina and has a pretty thick southern accent, though he hides it at work.
SH MENTION BELOW THIS PIC
He does have some SH tendenciesđ and frequently cuts when he's spiralling, he needs people to talk to him so he doesnt spiral (he thinks everyone hates him if they dont)
I WANT OTHER PPLS HCS OMGđ I ONLY HAVE SOME BAREBONES FACTS BCZ HES JS A VERSION OF ONE OF MY MAIN OCSâčïž
Computer, phone, assignment papers, wallet for the vending machines down the hall. Gabe checked over the list, making sure all the things mentioned were in his backpack (or otherwise jeans pockets, in the cases of the phone and wallet). He sighed quietly. It was a strange dichotomy he had, to be honest; he both hated doing homework yet hated not doing it just as much. The past few days, the latter had won, and Gabe had made arrangements to use a spot with good Wi-Fi in order to do a computer science assignment. Said spot was the door that Gabe currently stood in front of. More accurately, the office behind the door, belonging to Dr. Argyros. From the brief conversation in which they had made this arrangement, Gabe liked him already. He lifted up his fist to the door and knocked, the distinct tune of âshave and a haircut,â ringing out in the empty hallway. God, this assignment would be so boring to do⊠Gabe was seriously thinking about just walking away, homework be damned, before the door opened.Â
Nonius opened the door, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a groan.
"Dr. North, I swear to godâ"
He cuts himself off mid-sentence, the frustration in his voice faltering as he finally looks up properly. Brows furrowing slightly as he looks Gabe over, confusion replacing the anger for a moment before it clicks. Right. The arrangement. Of course he forgot. His grip on the door loosens as he exhales, dragging a hand over his face.
ââŠRight,â he mutters, frustration turning inward as he steps back to let him in.
Gabe smiled flatly in response to the emotional kaleidoscope passing through Dr. Argyrosâ countenance. âGood morning,â he said, questionably during the afternoon, and stepped into the doctorâs office. It was quite home-y, sort of like a grown-up version of Gabeâs own style. (There were actually framed paintings and posters on the walls, instead of tacked, taped, or otherwise haphazardly attached like Gabe was fond of doing). Gabe looked from the swivel chair at the desk, to the much-comfier-looking armchair, and sat stiffly on the latter. There was a few seconds of awkward silence before Gabe remembered he was actually supposed to do something here, and pulled his computer out from his backpack with a soft sigh. Within a few clicks, he was at his computerâs settings pageââHey, whatâs your Wi-Fi? And whoâs Dr. North?â
He sits on his chair with a huff, handing Gabe a sticky note with the Wi-Fi and password.
"Dr. North one of the psychologists who works under me. She usually comes to my office so I can do her paperwork, which, usually I don't mind. But today I'm quite swamped."
The silence lingers a moment longer, heavy and unbroken, before he finally exhales and pushes himself to his feet. With a quiet sort of resignation, he turns away and begins sifting through his records.
"Ya wanna listen t' Jeff Buckley, right? I mean, I got loads o'rec'rds if you wanna listen t'anythin' else. I can't guarantee you'd like many of 'em, but 't's worth a shot eh?"
He drops that polished, âI-live-in-this-stateâ accent entirely, going full country without even seeming to notice. He mutters under his breath as he continues looking for something-- anything-- that could appeal to a sixteen year old boy.
Gabe swiftly copies the Wi-Fi information onto his computer. Within a few seconds, all systems are go, and Gabe passes the Post-it back while he listens to Dr. Argyrosâ words on his employees. It makes him think; heâs heard the name Dr. North around the hospital, but not enough to place a face or trait to it. He decides to put off starting his homework (by only a few minutes, but still) by asking Dr. Argyros, âSwamped with what? Canât you just make one of your employees do it, instead of the other way around?âÂ
While the doctor speaks again, Gabe looks a little closer at the words present in the officeâwritten on Post-its at the desk, scrawled upon the posters, and the names of the books in the shelves. As he came in, he hadnât really put thought into it, and assumed everything would be in English. But on closer inspection, itâs all Greek to Gabe. Literally. Though, he supposes that makes sense, with Dr. Argyrosâ surname. Which subsequently makes less sense as soon as the doctor keeps talking, and his accent switches to that of a (respectfully) gun-slinginâ cowboy.Â
âUh⊠okay,â Gabe says simply. âNo, yeah, thatâs fine, I donât mind listening to something else, itâs your office after all. Thanks for letting me in here in the first place, by the way.â
He lowers himself back into his chair, already reaching for a stack of paperwork as the soft crackle of the record player fills the office. The music starts low and warm, blending into the quiet hum of the room. For a minute, heâs focused entirely on his work-- until he notices Gabe hasnât touched his computer in a while.
Nonius glances up over the rim of his glasses and follows his line of sight to the shelves lining the wall. Medical journals, old hardcovers, records tucked between them, little scraps of paper marking random pages. His expression softens slightly with realization.
âYou can look at 'em, yâknow,â he snorts a bit "if y'know greek."
âI donât,â Gabe says lightly, and moves to grab the nearest book anyway. As predicted, he canât understand shit, but the diagrams that appear every few pages are just enough to keep Gabe interested in flipping through a little more. He gets to the end of the journal, and holds it up to show Dr. Argyros the cover. âThis oneâs about, like⊠the different parts of the brain and stuff, right? Cool pictures.â
Gabe sets the book back and once again turns to the one task required of him at the moment. He stares at the glaringly bright computer screen. Glances up at Dr. Argyros. Down at screen, back up again. It feels so soul-sucking, he starts to mentally chart out the pros and cons of actually doing his damn homework.Â
On one hand, the assignmentâs due at the end of the week, so Gabe has plenty of time even if he doesnât start today. This option is tempting enough for Gabeâs hand to curl over the computer screen, ready to close it. The is the slight complication, however, that he had asked Dr. Argyros to loan his precious office space specifically so that Gabe could do his homework. His hand lowers. How disrespectful would it be to waste the doctorâs favor like that, and just sit here doing nothing? So great, now Gabe gets to add societal guilt into his mental chart. At this point he considers it would be easier to just get started instead of dawdling further. However, easy and interesting were two different things, and the latter was a weighted factor in favor of the dawdling. Gabe thrums his fingers against the side of his computer and speaks up. âSo, do you see clients, or is it more like a supervising-employees thing? And whereâs your accent from? I didnât notice it at first.â
âUhh, yeah, I see clients. Not as much anymore though, I have a lot of paperwork..â He slips back into that polished, professional accent almost immediately, suddenly a little self conscious now that Gabe had pointed it out.
âItâs from North Carolina,â he explains after a moment, adjusting his sleeves absentmindedly. âThough certain words sound a little more Greek.â
Computer, phone, assignment papers, wallet for the vending machines down the hall. Gabe checked over the list, making sure all the things mentioned were in his backpack (or otherwise jeans pockets, in the cases of the phone and wallet). He sighed quietly. It was a strange dichotomy he had, to be honest; he both hated doing homework yet hated not doing it just as much. The past few days, the latter had won, and Gabe had made arrangements to use a spot with good Wi-Fi in order to do a computer science assignment. Said spot was the door that Gabe currently stood in front of. More accurately, the office behind the door, belonging to Dr. Argyros. From the brief conversation in which they had made this arrangement, Gabe liked him already. He lifted up his fist to the door and knocked, the distinct tune of âshave and a haircut,â ringing out in the empty hallway. God, this assignment would be so boring to do⊠Gabe was seriously thinking about just walking away, homework be damned, before the door opened.Â
Nonius opened the door, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a groan.
"Dr. North, I swear to godâ"
He cuts himself off mid-sentence, the frustration in his voice faltering as he finally looks up properly. Brows furrowing slightly as he looks Gabe over, confusion replacing the anger for a moment before it clicks. Right. The arrangement. Of course he forgot. His grip on the door loosens as he exhales, dragging a hand over his face.
ââŠRight,â he mutters, frustration turning inward as he steps back to let him in.
Gabe smiled flatly in response to the emotional kaleidoscope passing through Dr. Argyrosâ countenance. âGood morning,â he said, questionably during the afternoon, and stepped into the doctorâs office. It was quite home-y, sort of like a grown-up version of Gabeâs own style. (There were actually framed paintings and posters on the walls, instead of tacked, taped, or otherwise haphazardly attached like Gabe was fond of doing). Gabe looked from the swivel chair at the desk, to the much-comfier-looking armchair, and sat stiffly on the latter. There was a few seconds of awkward silence before Gabe remembered he was actually supposed to do something here, and pulled his computer out from his backpack with a soft sigh. Within a few clicks, he was at his computerâs settings pageââHey, whatâs your Wi-Fi? And whoâs Dr. North?â
He sits on his chair with a huff, handing Gabe a sticky note with the Wi-Fi and password.
"Dr. North one of the psychologists who works under me. She usually comes to my office so I can do her paperwork, which, usually I don't mind. But today I'm quite swamped."
The silence lingers a moment longer, heavy and unbroken, before he finally exhales and pushes himself to his feet. With a quiet sort of resignation, he turns away and begins sifting through his records.
"Ya wanna listen t' Jeff Buckley, right? I mean, I got loads o'rec'rds if you wanna listen t'anythin' else. I can't guarantee you'd like many of 'em, but 't's worth a shot eh?"
He drops that polished, âI-live-in-this-stateâ accent entirely, going full country without even seeming to notice. He mutters under his breath as he continues looking for something-- anything-- that could appeal to a sixteen year old boy.
Gabe swiftly copies the Wi-Fi information onto his computer. Within a few seconds, all systems are go, and Gabe passes the Post-it back while he listens to Dr. Argyrosâ words on his employees. It makes him think; heâs heard the name Dr. North around the hospital, but not enough to place a face or trait to it. He decides to put off starting his homework (by only a few minutes, but still) by asking Dr. Argyros, âSwamped with what? Canât you just make one of your employees do it, instead of the other way around?âÂ
While the doctor speaks again, Gabe looks a little closer at the words present in the officeâwritten on Post-its at the desk, scrawled upon the posters, and the names of the books in the shelves. As he came in, he hadnât really put thought into it, and assumed everything would be in English. But on closer inspection, itâs all Greek to Gabe. Literally. Though, he supposes that makes sense, with Dr. Argyrosâ surname. Which subsequently makes less sense as soon as the doctor keeps talking, and his accent switches to that of a (respectfully) gun-slinginâ cowboy.Â
âUh⊠okay,â Gabe says simply. âNo, yeah, thatâs fine, I donât mind listening to something else, itâs your office after all. Thanks for letting me in here in the first place, by the way.â
He lowers himself back into his chair, already reaching for a stack of paperwork as the soft crackle of the record player fills the office. The music starts low and warm, blending into the quiet hum of the room. For a minute, heâs focused entirely on his work-- until he notices Gabe hasnât touched his computer in a while.
Nonius glances up over the rim of his glasses and follows his line of sight to the shelves lining the wall. Medical journals, old hardcovers, records tucked between them, little scraps of paper marking random pages. His expression softens slightly with realization.
âYou can look at 'em, yâknow,â he snorts a bit "if y'know greek."
Finch remained in the doorway, taking a few steps back at the sight of the dogs tussling on the bed. He winced at the sight of them, but tried to reassure himself they meanât no harm.
â ..Heyyy.. didnât know you had dogs. â
The main issue is he brought Borisâhis oriental shorthairâwith him, who was in his own little carriage that was pitch black on the outside so you actually couldnât even see him. Boris wasnât very friendly when it came to anyone that wasnât Finch, but he didnât have time to look for sitters.
Still half asleep, he looked toward the doorway where his boyfriend stood stiffly, clearly too nervous to come any closer while the dogs fought on the bed.
âFer fuckâs sake,â Nonius muttered before pulling one of the dogs back by the collar. âKnock it off.â
"Figured I mentioned 'em bef're.. Sorry. They're nice, Mars bites a li'l but nothin' too crazy. Mars is the border collie by the way. Fritter is the Schnauzer, he's a gen'le giant"
Finch remained in his spot, shifting awkwardly as he tried to figure out how to explain his phobia of dogs.
â ..uhm- Yeah. Itâs not them, itâs just.. me? I guess, Iâm kindâve paranoid when it comes to dogs. â It was more embarrassing saying it out loud than it was in his head.
â T-They are cute dogs, though! âm sure they donât mean harm. â
He gave a nervous smile, looking around the room as to where he could place his things. It was hard to pick a spot but he also didnât know if he even had a right to make himself feel at home. Even if this was literally his boyfriendâs house.
He could feel the carrier stirring as Boris shifted around, and thats when he knew Boris was probably getting antsy. But, he also knew he could not let him out in-front of a bunch of dogs that donât even know him and the fact that Boris would most definitely instigate something.
â Say, do you have a spare room or a place where.. uh- Boris could stay? â He lifted up the pet carrier slightly. â I couldnât find a sitter, and he.. tends to get mean, especially to other animals. â
Nonius notices the slight nervousness in Finch almost immediately, and guilt settles in his chest when he realizes he probably should have mentioned the dogs beforehand.
"You alright hon? I can put the dogs in the spare. Please make yerself at home.."
With a quiet sigh, Nonius scoops up both dogs, one under each arm, despite their size. They squirm and grumble as he carries them out of the room, still trying to play-fight in his hold. He glances back at Finch briefly, looking a little apologetic before disappearing into the hallway.
Finch remained in the doorway, taking a few steps back at the sight of the dogs tussling on the bed. He winced at the sight of them, but tried to reassure himself they meanât no harm.
â ..Heyyy.. didnât know you had dogs. â
The main issue is he brought Borisâhis oriental shorthairâwith him, who was in his own little carriage that was pitch black on the outside so you actually couldnât even see him. Boris wasnât very friendly when it came to anyone that wasnât Finch, but he didnât have time to look for sitters.
Still half asleep, he looked toward the doorway where his boyfriend stood stiffly, clearly too nervous to come any closer while the dogs fought on the bed.
âFer fuckâs sake,â Nonius muttered before pulling one of the dogs back by the collar. âKnock it off.â
"Figured I mentioned 'em bef're.. Sorry. They're nice, Mars bites a li'l but nothin' too crazy. Mars is the border collie by the way. Fritter is the Schnauzer, he's a gen'le giant"
