are you satisfied? @magnusvinter - Tumblr Blog

rubytorrance‌:

Russell would have a cow if he knew that Ruby was attending therapy. He didn’t approve of treatment for mental health issues, even though that was what his daughter deeply needed. She was grown now, still right off the brink of eighteen, but she was an adult and could make her own decisions. She wanted to act grown, to be grown, to blossom into a young woman and be her own person. That was impossible with her father constantly on her ass. So this was something she was doing to better herself as an adult, to get her shit together and make herself a better person. She needed this, she really did. She just hoped that Magnus would be able to help her.

Even though she was trying to be grown, the blonde was still just as lost as she had been all her life, much like a child was. She didn’t know how to act in these situations except to beg, plead, cry for help. “I’ve been better.” Ruby said with a little shrug, looking away from the man and down at her hands which had been neatly folded in her lap, fingers on her left hand picking at the skin on her right hand. After a moment, though, she looked back up at him, trying to be respectful and not act like a dejected brat. “I don’t… Really know how to cope, honestly. I cut my hair,” She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Daddy wanted to kill me for it, too. He thinks I should be able to handle this and not be upset about it since my mother and I didn’t get along. I just - I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Every case was distinct and he was repeating it like a mantra, but after so many years in this business, especially having worked mainly with people of very similar backgrounds, it was impossible not to discern a certain arrangement, a consistent pattern. Maybe that was what ended up making him so deprived of any drive and passion for his work, those dull replicas. If he collected this multitude of similarities they shared, he could’ve as well turned it into bingo. Ruby’s age was the first aspect distinguishing her from most of the patients coming through the door. Technically she was an adult, and he surely wasn’t going to diminish that fact, but maturity and independence weren’t steady values.

As she spoke, he was only nodding his head lightly and giving a soft hum once in a while instead of cutting in with any comments of his. There was nothing too astounding about her answer, nothing he wasn’t already expecting, what didn’t mean it was good to hear it. The mention of her father’s rigorous tendencies was some food for thought, actually. Magnus was always leaving his personal life and biases outside the office, though as a parent himself he couldn’t help but let his mind wander off to the piece of work Russel was. When silence fell, he disrupted it with a deep sigh and knitted his eyebrows in earnest cogitation. “Your father’s not the best influence. Perhaps a danger, even,” saying matter-of-factly, he glanced off to the side before looking at Ruby with a glint of what could come across as concern. “Just because you and your mother weren’t on good terms, it doesn’t mean you can’t feel the loss. You have the right to grieve, to be angry, confused... And he can’t take it away from you.” What he stated was possibly something flourishing in Ruby’s subconscious or something she couldn’t voice aloud. “Trust me, you’re not handling this situation badly.”

#interactions.#thread; ruby torrance.#sorry this took forever hfshjkl

MAGNUS VINTER / 53

#cancelled.task #that was.... tough fhskh #icb the last segment took me the most time

readysetisobelle‌:

This was always a bad idea. Why she didn’t just find a new doctor was a mystery to Isobelle. Maybe it was the hassle of having to pay more for a doctor outside the company or maybe it was less hassle to start from the beginning with someone new. Either way, a pit of shame and dread ate at her insides whenever she had to go in for an appointment. She was convinced that Magnus- Dr. Vinter got some sort of sick thrill out of her coming in. Slipping into his office, it was like she shrunk even shorter than she already was.

Hadn’t he used those words before? “Thanks.” Iz tried to be as professional as possible even though she was the patient. This was all for her mental health. He knew her. A little too well but that was all her own fault, wasn’t it? The woman found a spot on the couch, pulling her legs up with her. If he had a problem with her feet on the furniture than he could say so but she would take her little rebellions where she could. “So do you juist wanna pick up where we left off or what?” Her fingers tapped out a steady beat on her calf.

The arrangement life had thrown them into could be considered as unfavorable, to say the least. After that set of mistakes, he was genuinely surprised Isobelle was still showing up for appointments instead of changing the specialist. It would be logical for her to do so, wouldn’t it? Magnus also wouldn’t mention such possibility, neither directly nor between the lines. As malicious as it might’ve come across as, this turn of events was giving him satisfaction. Whatever happened between them in the past that wasn’t that distant should remain to be bygones, after all, they were sort of playing for the same team now, so some professionalism could be expected of them.

If awaiting her uneasiness wasn’t filling him with so much morbid joy, he would’ve already given her a business card of one of his colleagues, who perhaps could handle her bothers with better grace. “It’s entirely up to you,” Magnus stated with a breathy chuckle coating his words. Putting the pen on the side table, since he assumed he wouldn’t need to take notes, he then folded arms in front of his chest and sent Isobelle an inquiring glare with a hint of casual impishness. “But would you be kind enough to remind me where were we?”

#interactions.#thread; isobelle menchaca.

jcunos‌:

@magnusvinter

Before the accident, Juno had never been one for therapy. It always seemed somehow wrong to sit there pouring out your heart and soul to someone you weren’t particularly close to, someone who was getting paid to at least pretend to care about your feelings – and he knew it wasn’t like that, but he preferred keeping those kinds of things to himself. After the accident, though, therapy was pretty much compulsory. In fact, Prometheus insisted all their contracts had at least one evaluatory session – and someone had given him Magnus Vinter’s business card, so there he was. Stood outside the man’s office, unsure whether to knock or wait to be called in.

Eventually, he knocked, and poked is head round the door as politely as possible. The whole building had an air of professionalism about it that made Juno feel distinctly out of place; even after more than a year of living and working in Hollywood, he still felt like a fish out of water.

“Excuse me, I–” What do you say when walking into the therapist’s office? “I have an appointment at eleven?”

Although he would often affirm that it could never be too late for therapy, he knew that when it came to that, there was the right time. The moment when some bigger damage wasn’t done yet and one still could backtrack, but the paradox was that hardly anyone could grasp that flimsy while. Not like it was giving him any less work, though. Especially when he was employed by Prometheus, they were making sure Magnus wasn’t getting completely bored out of his skull in there. Today he was to welcome Juno Benson into his office, someone he knew mainly if not solely from the screen.

His eyes were stuck on the clock rather out of habit than to control the time. Only when he heard the knock he actually glanced down at the watch on his wrist to see what hour it was already. Adjusting his tie, Magnus got up from his armchair and looked at the newcomer, whose ostensible hesitancy wasn’t consorting with the initial impression he had about the actor. “Mr. Benson, correct?” Forced smile number three. “I’ve been expecting you. Please, have a seat.” He pointed at the chair situated opposite his.

#interactions.#thread; juno benson.

atozadani‌:

Annissa froze, a bird under his reptilian gaze. “Am I late?” She wasn’t– She knew that, and yet she asked anyway, suddenly nervous. Something about the way he had announced her presence unnerved her. He’s been expecting me, she thought, with a shiver, which was ridiculous. Of course he had. Annissa had made an appointment. She chalked it up to the paranoia of a chronic liar and entered the room, closing the door behind her.

“Sorry about that. I get lost in the work, sometimes,” Annissa said, still pretending she might have been late.

The man’s office was the over-stuffed monotony that Annissa had always imagined a psychiatrist’s office would be. Beige everything, brown on top– Flat and dull. Her eyes wondered the brik-a-brak on his bookshelves so she didn’t have to meet Magnus’s gaze. Annissa wondered if there was a study, somewhere, that suggested colour would cause a mental break in actors.

Eventually, when she could not find a reason to delay it any longer, Annissa forced herself to meet Magnus’s eyes. Apart from the vague slimy feeling she got from his smile, she never got anything from his eyes. Not in the way that she often wrote people off, too dull to find anything meaningful to mirror, but truly. His eyes were placid pools. He smiled like a dead thing.

“I assume they told you why I’m here.” Annissa rubbed her fists against her legs, the texture of the denim a grounding presence. “Nominally grief counseling, but…” She wonders, as she shakes, hands flying up to push hair out of her face jerkily, if she looks like a junkie to him. She feels like one, ready to fly out of her skin. Annissa hasn’t seen Ginny in days. She had wished for that, in the weeks right after the Cancellation. Now, it feels like a punishment for what she’s done.

“Someone must have told you. About the nightmares. Or the–” Annissa snorts. “The daymares.”

For several seconds the woman’s words rang in his head. How familiar. That very question must’ve been a more common greeting than a plain hello. He didn’t have a problem with latecomers, so usually he would respond with how arriving late was still better than never showing up. It had to sound like an automated message already. Therefore, today he would go for a line some would hear from him less frequently: “Time is an illusion.” Not the best one, especially since in certain instances it could pour more gasoline to the fire.

When Annissa went on with what seemed to be a small act, he didn’t interrupt her with an affirmation that she was right on time. Magnus only shook his head lazily, the mask of courtesy continuously sticking to his face. “It’s all good,” he finally assured, sinking into his armchair even more. Noticing how her eyes were more occupied with examining the room instead of looking directly at him wasn’t anything out of place for him. Those not too keen on maintaining eye-contacts probably were thankful for the cluttered bookshelves and other little distractions located in the office.

Before someone would have their first encounter with him, the oh-so infamous Dr. Vinter, often he would be provided a quick rundown. It wasn’t different with Annissa, but he had also heard enough murmuring about the actress. He suspected their meeting would revolve around Ginny, because there was a lot to unpack.

“I was clued in to a degree,” his answer was void of much meaning and he reckoned its futility wouldn’t help the female’s visible distress. He was going to let her roll the dice, as if his knowledge about the case was as scarce as he claimed. “What’s perturbing you exactly? The way you put it makes me guess you’ve talked about it with somebody before... Or I’m just getting the wrong impression?”

#interactions.#thread; annissa zadani.

ffstyler‌:

|| tyler didn’t like taking many days off, but today was an exception. he’d managed to wake up with the rising sun. he had been told about twenty thousand times by his parents to find a hobby that interested him, and in their haste to make their son listen they had brought him a camera for his birthday. they had never like the idea he preferred partying or spending his time working - never anything else. Honestly, he was fed up of the extra pressure they put on him to try other things. He loved his job, and it fulfilled him - why would he want anything else? he didn’t want to be cancelled, he wanted to continue to rise through his work. he had accepted the camera, mainly to get them to be quiet. he’d never even thought to use it, until today. he’d exhausted all other options.

he’d never been a fan of hiking either, which was ironic because here he was, hiking up the quietest part of the hills he could find, clutching his camera. he still didn’t see the point, but he promised. after all his parents had done for him, it was the least he could do. he reached what seemed like a good enough perspective point, and pointed his camera as he’d seen many others do with them before. he’d gotten a bit distracted, when he noticed someone had stood by him. “oh, sorry, am i in your way? got a bit caught up there..” ||

A change of scenery was always appreciated. Magnus couldn’t really recall the last time he got to the fuss of the city centre to simply wallow in his own thoughts. Actually, he didn’t want his mind to be bothered by a single thing. Even if it was to last for a transient while, he wanted to recoil from those pestering work-related matters. The door to his office was always swinging back and forth. When someone was leaving after the appointment was done, there was a yet another person waltzing in. He wouldn’t say he hated what he was doing for a living. It was sufficiently lucrative, so that part he couldn’t complain about, but he never felt like it was a path for him to walk on. His father wanted that for him and he naively gave in, instead of pursuing his real dream. The sole idea that right now he could be working on a novel -- which most likely would be doomed to success -- was making it hard for him to hold back this bitter, bitter laugh.

With little to no hurry, he was strolling alongside the nature until the sight of a familiar figure made him stop in his tracks. “Not at all, Tyler,” he bestowed the man with a mild smile before his curiosity was drawn to the camera he held. “I had no idea you’re into photography.”

#interactions.#thread; tyler franklin.

dailyhouse

#musings.#oop i'm back #i'll get to drafts asap!!

Hi! Just giving a heads-up that I’ll be gone until the 16th due to a trip.

Take care! ♥

#ooc.#wanted to queue some replies but had no time ghdhgk

yassmines

imco

in my correct opinion

#musings.

gilded-castle‌:

Jerome rarely relied on therapy, for a number of reasons. One, he was a closed-off man, unwilling to share his deepest thoughts and pains with about 99.99 percent of the human population. Two, most of his problems were those that he can (and had to) solve himself, and therefore didn’t require the input of another. Three, it would be rather difficult to find a good one. Most therapists outside of Prometheus didn’t know how to handle the pressures of contracted actors adequately, and those directly hired were engaging in a severe conflict of interest.

But Catherine James’ live cancellation had an effect, not enough to change his mind about his distrust, but enough to give Magnus Vinter a ring. And, the next day, he found himself the man’s office.

“I’m sure this comes as a surprise,” Jerome Castillo said. He took a deep breath and a seat across from Mr. Vinter, unsure of what to expect from today’s session. But he does not expect the best.

“I’m sure you’ve gotten plenty of calls, recently,” Jerome said. “After Ms. Samson’s party.” By that, he meant Catherine James’ cancellation. And the sight of the woman beating her own daughter. And the thought of Ruby Torrance only having Russell and Kennedy, and the thought of living with that for the rest of her life. And, most importantly, the thought that Jerome Castillo could do nothing.

The birthday party of Ms. Samson had -- euphemistically speaking -- a twist probably not many were prepared for. At least that was a conclusion he drew after hearing how often this peculiar event was touched upon in his office lately. He was expecting that, but he also was close to admitting it was getting boring. Over and over again it was the same story, but told from different perspectives, using different words, with varying emotional attachment that linked them to the victim of the night, dear Catherine James. Magnus would be prevaricating if he said he wasn’t itching to ask his recent patients for unfiltered thoughts and opinions they had about her. He certainly wouldn’t mind hearing: You don’t speak ill of the dead, but...

Jerome Castillo wasn’t someone he ever imagined walking into this very room. The man’s words hinted that he himself probably wasn’t envisioning such scenario before.

“You’re not wrong about that,” he confirmed, breathing out a long sigh (rather to accent his weariness than worry). Hell, even Ruby Torrance seemed to have thrown caution to the winds by coming around the other day. “It’s been a lot. For everyone,” commenting further, his usually stern face was marked by practiced compassion, which often helped him encourage others to be more talkative and remember that no confidentiality would be broken. “I’m glad you contacted me, too. Was there the so-called last straw that pushed to make that choice or you did it... just in case?

#Interactions.#thread; jerome castillo.

swooncheyenne‌:

Cheyenne was nervous but what else was new? Every now and again Prometheus made their contracts chat with the therapist on staff to make sure their heads were on straight. It made sense in theory but in carrying it out, it was tricky. She wasn’t sure telling someone all the thoughts running around in her brain was going to solve anything or make her end up in the office a few times a week. There had to be people worse off than her. She wondered briefly if the mandatory check in extended to Prometheus staff as well. Oh to be a fly on the wall when Cyrus Roth strolled into the office.

The receptionist motioned toward the door, indicating to Chey that it was her turn and she was free to go in. Slowly, the actress opened the door to find an older gentleman sitting patiently in a chair. Seeing him smile, she flashed him her own, brilliant one in return. “I’m not late, am I?” Her eyes jumped to the clock before crossing the room to take the seat he’d pointed her to. “So… I don’t exactly know how to start something like this. I’ve never really seen a therapist and knowing I’m being evaluated seems odd. Do you ask me questions from a list?” Really, she just wasn’t sure how to cover her anxiety if he let her just start rambling on.

Over the years Magnus really was dealing with the same kind of people. Many of them would barge in with a self-diagnosis, which was never backed up by an actual specialist’s opinion. If he had gotten a dollar for each time he needed to talk someone out of a rubbishy thesis that online tests weren’t too reliable, today he would’ve been sleeping on even more money. In terms of patients, working for Prometheus wasn’t that different, but way more often the appointments would be like routine examination. He was there to make sure their starlets wouldn’t have a breakdown on the red carpet. Allegedly.

His eyes briefly drifted to the clock, but without really picking up on the current hour. “Better late than never--” pausing, quickly he peeped at the schedule written out in his notebook to remind himself who he’d be talking to today, “Cheyenne. May I call you that?” His brows shifted upwards; usually he was dropping unneeded formalities in his office. And it wasn’t only about addressing other, but about his practices as well. “I think that could be too restricting,” he tersely replied. “I could go through a questionnaire with you, but I deeply believe in the power of conversation,” Magnus added, lips still forming a mellow curve. “What’s been notably troublesome or distressing to you lately?”

#thread; cheyenne stewart.

israeliqueen‌:

It had taken a lot of courage for Audrey to admit that she needed therapy and after her doctor scheduled an appointment with the city’s best therapist a few weeks ago,the actress finally had come to her senses and realised she was desperate for a few therapy sessions. The brunette had yet to pull her life together after sleepless nights as her mind was busy dealing with her anxiety. Between dealing with her many anxiety attacks and taking care of her daughters day and night,it wasn’t easy for her to find some time to deal with her problems.

Audrey found herself hesitant to knock on Dr. Vinter’s office door,due to her one month absence from the therapy sessions and to be honest,the brunette had missed his comprehensive talks and looks. After knocking at the door,she felt somehow relieved at his words and gave her a push to finally open the door and walk into his office.”It has been too long,hasn’t it?”Audrey questions with a slight glimpse of hope in her dark eyes and a short smile before closing the door behind her and sitting across from him. “And I have a lot to tell you.”

Magnus wouldn’t say he had a strict policy when it came to the frequency of appointments. Of course, the deal that was the most beneficial to him was when patients were paying him a visit as often as possible; that kept his wallet full. But in truth, he wasn’t directly coercing anyone to do so. It was safe to end the meeting with words: See you next time. And it was fully up to them when they’d come around to get things off their chest once more. Though some longer absences left him wondering.

It had been a while since he last saw Audrey Klein in the flesh, so he welcomed her with a certain cordiality. “I’m not going to reprimand you this time,” he responded in jest, displaying a gentle grin. “It’s good to see you again,” Magnus continued after a short while and took his notebook, which was mainly filled with scribbles. Rarely was he actually jotting something down, maybe he just liked adding this white noise in the background. It was almost like a metronome. Pressing the tip of the pen against the paper, he gave a little nod. Cleared for takeoff. “Whenever you’re ready.”

#thread; audrey klein.

eloisebardot‌:

“Doctor, doctor, I missed you!” Of course Prometheus required all of it’s most promising to go through therapy. The program was stressful, no starlet could hope to do it all on her own. And with the help of Magnus Vinter she was going to keep that pretty little head on her shoulders sane. Or that was what they promised. She found the whole Q&A just a bit tedious, but she didn’t see her therapist in the same light. No, there was some dissonance to the bureaucracy and man in front of her; the kind of thing she liked to put pressure on. Blurry lines were turning out to be her specialty.

“Tell me you missed me too.” She landed in the chair across from him, purse dropping on the floor as she smiled at him. There was some truth to the statement, she had missed the hour they spent together. The conversation tended to be more interesting than most she had within the span of the week. And for the small price of divulging some personal information, she could keep herself entertained for just about the full sixty minutes. “My life is dull without you. Not a single person asked me to play a word association game this week.”

Eloise Bardot was a special case and not necessarily in its pejorative sense. Maybe unique was a better way to put it. She was one of the very, very few people coming by his office who weren’t the embodiment of a chloroform-soaked handkerchief, though he had a gut feeling she might’ve been familiar with the soporific substance itself. He was always so oddly entertained and perhaps it wasn’t too professional of him, but at least his working hours weren’t that much of a prolonged snoozefest. His natural stoicism was disturbed by a will to manifest the amusement the female had already brought in. “Careful with this exuberance, Ms. Bardot,” he wagged his index finger in a facetious manner before giving in and letting out a placid laugh he was trying to muffle.

“Why, I’m flattered...” Shaking his head lightly, he muttered to himself and looked up to hold Eloise’s gaze. “Fine, I did miss you, but that stays between us,” Magnus leaned in and whispered, as if that admission should really stay behind closed doors. “I bet nobody hooked you up with dear Mr. Rorschach neither.” He grabbed the set of cards and showed the first grayish inkblot. Personally he didn’t consider this method the most reliable, since most pictures looked like mauled moths, but he was curious about the outcome. “What your autosuggestion makes you see?”

#thread; eloise bardot.#let's get this bread

rubytorrance‌:

Ruby had been quite distressed since the death of her mother. She didn’t know how to handle these emotions she was having, especially since she was covering up for the fact that she played a part in Catherine’s cancellation. Why did she feel so guilty? Why did she feel like she messed up? Did her mother deserve her fate? The only thing keeping her from being overwhelmed with these feelings was the fact that she was beaten before her mother was dragged away. Catherine had attacked her with a blur of fists and then the blood started running from her nose, and then the woman was pulled off of her. If the woman really loved her, she wouldn’t have done that to her own daughter. So, thanks to Prometheus Productions internal workings, Ruby was attending therapy. She’d cut her hair off the night after Catherine’s death in a bout of mental crises and it now sat above her shoulders, nearly to her chin. Russell would kill her if he knew she was attending therapy. But it wasn’t her choice, she supposed, because Prometheus wasn’t going to let one of their highest earners go crazy. She was a high risk to herself right now. “How are you?” She asked, sitting down in the empty seat and giving the man a little smile. “I don’t - really know how these things are supposed to go. I’m sorry - I’ll let you lead the way, if that’s okay.”

Taking the recent events into consideration, seeing Ruby appearing in the doorway shouldn’t be as shocking, and that part he wasn’t so puzzled by. It was rather the fact that she did make this more or less voluntary decision to come here and seek -- he assumed -- help. He hadn’t yet delved into her relation with her father, but from the small observations and hearsay he managed to gather, Russel didn’t sound like someone who could be elated upon founding out something he probably should know about was happening right behind his back. Magnus was in no position to enlighten the man, or was he? It didn’t matter to him. For now.

Even before they got to take a step forward the crux of their encounter, she already seemed as lost as a child wandering in a fog that he was close to starting to feel really sorry for her. “What’s relevant is how you are,” the words rolled off his tongue like a script line learned by heart. “It’s all okay, I’m supposed to be the pundit here,” speaking with a tinge of humor, he emitted a throaty chuckle and put away the pen to then rest his clasped hands on his lap. “Saying what you’ve lately gone through must’ve been a lot would be an understatement.” In a split second his expression became more solemn. “How are you coping with that, Ruby?”

#thread; ruby torrance.#oof it's happening

caylabarker‌:

Cayla was falling before she even registered that her foot was slipping. It was a stupid, stupid mistake– She pulled a chair into the storage closet, stacking crates on top of it until she could reach the very top shelf. Of course she lost her balance. Her hands flailed, grabbing at the wires of the shelf desperately. But it was an old shelf, the brackets holding it to the wall badly rusted, and her weight only pulled the contents down with her.

The closet door flew open when she knocked into it, and Cayla fell the rest of the way to the floor in a cloud of dust and yellowed papers. For a moment, Cayla laid perfectly still trying to catch her breathe as the shock of the landing ran through her.

“Oh. Ow-choo.” The violent sneeze banged her head against the floor. “Ah, fuck.”

Cayla pushed herself up with her elbows, staring at the mess she’d made. She was already laughing– “Oh my god,” she wheezed through her giggles. “I almost died.”

If he didn’t have to, Magnus wasn’t really stepping a foot outside of his office, but sometimes there were some errands he needed to run. Paperwork, spontaneous meetings and other trivialities he had to suffer through without giving a sign of disinterest. His one hand was holding the leather briefcase, which might’ve made him look even more serious, but it wasn’t filled with documents and files of utmost importance as some could’ve suspected. Those gems he wasn’t carrying around just like that. Strutting down the hallway, his narrowed eyes were piercing the bright screen of his phone. For the sake of avoiding awkward eye-contacts that would force him to come to a halt. And he wasn’t feeling too sociable today.

But a sudden commotion followed by a sneeze was enough to grasp his attention. He peeked in curiously and glanced down at the assumed creator of the disarray. “Almost. It’s the key word,” a single corner of his mouth went upwards as he held his hand out. “Looks like you need some help here.”

#thread; cayla barker.

bet-on-bennett‌:

“How does the point system work in a situation like this?” Sloane asked. They had yet to pick Rita Bower’s brain on the subject, but they knew that the points were some combination of producer preference and public interest in the form of some algorithm. But this? All those behind-the-scenes just.. gave their points to whomever, and their actions had no rhyme or reason. It was all so…. arbitrary. Sloane wondered if that was the point. “They’re just giving and taking points willy-nilly. Though if I were in their position-” they meant those with point-deducting power, “-I’d probably mess around a bit, too.”

“I’m afraid I may not be the best person to give a sufficient answer to your burning question,” Magnus replied with a polite half-grin imprinted on his face. To an extent he was honest. In comparison with many others involved with Prometheus he still was relatively new, and frankly speaking, some aspects of the functioning system was a bit of a mystery to him. So, he was just going with the flow. Turning his head towards the female, a low chuckle escaped his mouth upon hearing her statement. “Wherever you go, there are some higher-ups.” He had a look around the room and snorted under his breath again. “Power changes people. Especially if it lets them decide who stays and who goes. Tale as old as time, isn’t it?”

#event.#thread; sloane bennett.

The clock was ticking its monotonous tune and Magnus couldn’t peel his absent gaze away from it. For someone whose schedule usually was quite tight, he for sure was at the verge of dying of boredom way too often. Even when there was someone at his office, often he would just sit back, drill his inattentive eyes into the delinquent and keep himself from externalizing any of those weary sighs. But every now and then he would successfully chance upon an individual with more absorbing stories to tell. Although he was the type to leave his work in this very room, sometimes he would catch himself thinking back to such noteworthy anecdotes particular patients had shared with him.

He leaned back in the leather armchair and crossed his legs, his hands toying with the pen (in instances where his ennui was reaching exceptional heights, he would click it to discreetly notify the other person to keep whatever they still had to say really brief). When he heard the door crack open, Magnus finally looked away from the clock to now focus on the person coming in. “Well, look who’s here,” his lips curled into a reserved smile, or rather an imitation of one, and he gestured to the spare seat across from him. “Please, make yourself at home.”

#cancelled.starter #open.#a lil something to get things started?

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

are you satisfied?