The Foolkiller

Indie RP for Marvel's Foolkiller (aka Greg Salinger) Please read About & Rules

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“Live a POEM, or die a FOOL!”

✘ Indie RP for Marvel’s Foolkiller. ✘ Crossover, AU, OC, etc. friendly ✘ Selective follower; NOT mutual exclusive ✘ Post sizes are matched, to a point. ✘ Written by Beetle.

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looktotheants:

      “Hm.”

      Hank’s expression softened slightly, watching Greg carefully. “…wasn’t the answer I expected,” he said. “Most shrinks I’ve talked to seem more like they want to study freaks because they’re just so fascinating.”

      He wasn’t completely put at ease, but he was more willing to try to relax, since he could sympathize somewhat with Greg now. “Did you ever… have any concerns about what you’d become after therapy? Like you were going into… uncharted waters, as it were?”

     “At a time, I may have looked at it that way. But sometimes the fears we have aren’t really what we’re fearful of. Going into uncharted waters is definitely daunting, but maybe a part of it is the fact that by moving forward we give ourselves something to lose. Plus, in the beginning, you have a much clearer image of what you have to slide back to than what you have to gain from moving forward.”

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looktotheants:

      “It’s Dr. Pym, actually…” He doesn’t usually correct people on that, but he’s still being stubborn and trying to keep Greg at maximum distance.

      But he listened, at least. Tried to have an open mind. He wanted to try, for Hope’s sake, if not for his own. Though maybe that was one of  his biggest stumbling blocks; he was doing this for someone else, not for himself. Maybe he would bring that up to Greg later on, but not today.

      “Mm… alright, I’ll bite. Why did you get into psychology? Let’s start there.”

     “My apologies, doctor.”

     Greg had hoped Hank would go for the easy questions first, but asking about how he got into his field wasn’t exactly surprising, “Well, I spent over a decade in a mental facility because of my own issues. Though, it feels a little shorter than that, because the first few years weren’t exactly productive,” he absentmindedly touched a scar on his neck as he spoke the word productive, “Once I was released, I wanted to help others like me. Therapy helped me when I was at my absolute lowest, I knew it could help others.”

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studyingsouls:

      “Just because you backslid doesn’t mean it was no help at all. It will probably make it easier for you to catch back up to where you were before.” The words were empty, almost scripted. But a neutral tone was common enough in psychology to hide the fact that he didn’t actually mean them.

      In fact, this revelation made Maurice a little nervous. He’d never put another psychologist in his experiments and he wasn’t sure if he could pull them off with someone else who could figure out what was going on.

     It wasn’t hard to guess the script, but even knowing the words were scripted, especially knowing the words were scripted it helped to hear them. Whether he believed what Maurice said or not, it was a familiar setting to be in and that was comfort enough.

     “Well, time will tell,” Greg shrugged, “For now, I think I really need a nap.”

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looktotheants:

      Hank paused, regarding Greg studiously, considering the situation. Ironically, Greg fumbling in his professional therapist demeanor helped him relax, albeit not by much. After a long while of quietly staring, Hank let out a sigh. “I don’t think I can feel comfortable around a psychologist. It’s not your fault, I’m sure you’re a decent fellow. But most of my experiences with shrinks have been them trying to tell me whether or not I’m fit to live in society. I was court marshaled, once–I don’t know if that’s in the file you have for me–and had psychologists trying to determine whether I should be put in jail or an institution.

      “I would like to believe you’re genuinely trying to be understanding, but I don’t know how to make myself trust you enough for this to work.”

      “Well, the first step is for you to not think of it as making yourself trust me,” Greg answered, lightly folding his hands in his lap, “I have to earn your trust. It won’t happen in this session, and it might not happen in the next dozen sessions, but it’s something that is earned, and not forced.”

      “You don’t need to force yourself to do anything, Mr. Pym. The only thing you’re required to is show up. The rest of the work, building trust and coming up with solutions, that’s my job, my duty. Like I said, if all we do is talk about ants, that’s fine. Easing mental burdens is not the same as curing a physical illness. I can’t just look at your symptoms and say “Ah, yes, this is clearly depression, here’s some pills, you can expect this to clear up in two weeks, have a good day,” It’s unfortunately not that easy,” He chuckled sadly.

      Greg shifted, and leaned in slightly, “Look, you’re clearly not the kind of person who would make the choice to seek the help of a therapist. I feel confident in saying that you had some outside influence that compelled you to come to me. While, it’s certainly a good first step, mental health is not something you can force. I don’t want you to force it. Where our sessions are concerned force is not in my vocabulary.”

      “Why don’t we shift the conversation a bit. Lets turn the tables a bit. Do you have any questions for me? Anything you’d like to know about me?”

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studyingsouls:

      Maurice lead Greg to the residence area of the hospital, where most of the rooms were. Since Greg was not currently a self-harm risk, the room wasn’t a padded on and more closely resembled a standard hospital set up, though without the medical equipment.

      “Breakfast is at seven, so try to get some rest tonight. Routines are very important in making progress.”

      “Oh you don’t have to worry about giving me the spiel, Dr. DeLancey,” Greg chuckled, sitting down on the bed, running his hand against the pristine sheets, “Like I said, I’ve been hospitalized before. I was there for over a decade, and when I got out I got a masters in psychology. I know how this works, even if it didn’t help me. Obviously.”

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looktotheants:

      “Erm. You know, normally I don’t mind being compared to an insect, but that was a little condescending for my taste.” Honestly, it made him uncomfortable, like he was some kind of spectacle or an exotic animal. He’d have to remember that for his list of reasons for not liking to see psychologists.

     “Ah, shit, sorry,” Greg fumbled, his pyschologist facade slipping slightly, “That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be interpreted, It was supposed to be endearing? It was a poor analogy. I just meant that I want to understand you. I don’t want to fix you or medicate you, though medication is an option if you feel it will help. My purpose is to provide a judgement free zone where you can feel comfortable, and understood. If all we ever do is talk about ants, that’s fine, as long as you leave here feeling alright.”

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studyingsouls:

      “I see. I will have to file a report on that, but I’ve worked with them many times before, so you’ll still be able to stay here.” He was not going to file any such report. Maurice put a hand on Greg’s shoulder. “We’ll make sure you’re never put in a position like that again. Come; I’ll show you to your room.”

     “Thank you.”

     Greg followed as Maurice took the lead, lapping up his words, and believing them without question. He should have been more suspicious, but he’d essentially been trained to put an extra-ordinary amount of faith in mental health professionals. As it turns out, having a stellar doctor for years is as much a curse as it is a boon.

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looktotheants:

      Hank grunted, not really in the mood to be praised for his work with Pym particles when using them had been what took Jan away from him. “Well, not all of us are scared of bugs. I just know how to handle them.”

     “Mm,” Greg lightly tapped the eraser end of his pencil against his notepad, not hard enough to make a noise, just enough to have some motion. He paused, before taking off his glasses, and setting them to the side, “I think I understand. It’s not quite the same, but I feel similarly about my clients. Most people are afraid of the mentally ill, but it’s really just about understanding them, and how to handle them. And that doesn’t always mean fixing anything. Sometimes people just need someone to understand them without judgement.”

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looktotheants:

      “Well, they almost ate me once.” Hank chuckled. “The first time I shrunk down with Pym particles, I didn’t really anticipate how dangerous insects could be when they’re the relative size of horses. But one ant helped me out, took me back to my lab and we were friends after that. And then before I shrunk down again, I made a way to talk to insects.”

      Greg chuckled with Hank, “I probably wouldn’t have shrunk ever again if I had an experience like that. The few macro photos of insects I’ve seen look terrifying. It’s really amazing what you’ve done.”

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studyingsouls:

      Maurice pulled out a small notebook to jot down the evidence of a history of self-harm. That would affect what kind of studies he did with Greg. He stowed the notebook away and took out a bin to store Greg’s costume away before giving him a pair of stringless sweatpants and a shirt.

      “Do you have any friends or relatives I should inform that you’ll be here?”

     Greg paused while pulling on his shirt. His first thought was Melanie, but the hesitation quickly passed, “No,” he answered once the shirt was over his head, “I don’t-- didn’t have much of a social life. My boss was the closest thing to a friend I had, but it turns out he was just using me, and I killed him.”

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studyingsouls:

      Maurice chuckled politely in response. “I’m sure it starts to chafe something fierce,” he said. He led Greg into an exam room and pulled a set of sweatpants and a loose shirt out of a closet, as well as a towel. “I will need to take your costume for safekeeping, as well as any weapons you have on you.”

      “Yeah, of course,” Maurice barely had time to say he needed Greg’s costume before he started removing it. Any shame Greg had about stripping in front of strangers had been lost years ago, and being in a hospital environment made him looser.

      His body was dotted with various scars. For the most part they were all clearly combat scars, each with their own story to tell. But there were a few scars on Greg’s wrists and thighs that likely stood out as clear signs of self harm in the mercenary’s past, though they were all old by at least a decade.

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assumewhatyouwill:

      “Of course. My door is always open. Unless I’m with a client, obviously, but you know what I mean.” Miguel smiled, friendly and warm. “I’m happy to supply everyone with validation.”

     Greg grinned in return, “Well, then, I guess you’re in the right field, huh?” He paused a moment, taking in a breath, before he said, “Anyway, I have a few things I need to finish getting set up. I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

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looktotheants:

      He blinked a little, surprised that Greg actually asked him that. Did he not realize Hank was being facetious?

      “I’d rather talk to ants than psychologists,” Hank said. Or most other people for that matter, but he wasn’t quite ready to be that frank with this person.

      “Too bad I can’t turn into an ant,” Greg chuckled. Hank didn’t have to say that the statement wasn’t limited to just psychologists, that much was obvious, “I don’t really know a lot about ants other than I should stay away from the red ones. Science wasn’t really my thing. I was always a lit kid. What got you interested in them?”

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studyingsouls:

      Maurice smiled a little, looking encouraging, but really it was because it wasn’t often that such a willing subject dropped themself into his lap. “For starters, let’s get you some dry clothes and get you more comfortable, then we’ll start filling out the necessary evil that is paperwork. Sound good?”

      “Dry clothes sound great,” Greg smiled back, and took off his helmet, running a hand through his hair after he did so, “No one ever talks about how uncomfortable these outfits get when wet,” he chuckled, mostly to himself.

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looktotheants:

      “I’d be happier if I was at home,” Hank said tersely. However, he finally took a seat, resigning himself to this interaction. “Without a shrink, I mean, I’m not suggesting you come to my house.” He wrinkled his nose a little at the very idea before leaning back and crossing his arms. “So, talk, I guess. Ask me how things make me feel, that’s always a good one.”

      Greg nearly made a move to suggest they move their sessions to Hank’s house, but the older man was able to elaborate before he could say anything. Phew. Bullet dodged there, at least. Hank was already irritable enough as it was.

      “Well,” Greg leaned back, and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling for a moment before turning his attention back to Hank, “How do ants make you feel?”

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studyingsouls:

      Maurice jerked his head in a nod at one of the orderlies, signalling for them to see if they could get into contact with the other hospital at this hour. Then he returned his attention to Greg. “I’m Dr. DeLancey, I run this hospital. Let’s get you dried off and we’ll get everything sorted.”

      He hooked a hand under Greg’s elbow to help him to his feet. “You’re in good hands here, Mr. Salinger.”

      As the doctor helped him up, Greg leaned on him a little more heavily than he probably needed to, but the contact was nice, and he was still upset. Once they were both on their feet, though, Greg was able to stand on his own two feet without much support.

       “Yeah,” he sniffled, wiping at one eye as he looked at Maurice, “That’s why I came here.”