Private - Doctor Alfalfabert Charcoalate's Therapeutic Clinic

Private - Doctor Alfalfabert Charcoalate's Therapeutic Clinic
Discussion in 'Vintergard' started by Alphabet Chocolate, May 1, 2018.
  1. [​IMG]

    It was surprisingly easy to take upon the identity of General Doctor Alfalfabert Charcoalate. The chaos in the midst of Titanius' corruption had led to many abandoned pieces of property, left behind by the urgent evacuation notice following the death and destruction the ooze had caused. Despite the crisis, however, the seeping acid had receded and a few buildings were left untouched by the unnatural decay; this building in particular being less of a casualty and more of a lucky bystander of the events. As of today, the previous owners had yet to return to reclaim the fair building.

    It was only fair that Alpha use it herself. It would've been an awful shame if it went unused for such a long period of time, especially when Alpha was a wandering vagrant and frequent squatter who'd help this place realize its full potential. Let it be known that Alphabet Chocolate was not a person who'd let an opportunity go to waste. All within the time span of twenty-four hours following her finding the locale, Doctor Alfalfabert Charcoalate's Therapeutic Clinic was open.

    It was sparsely decorated. With a twirl of her fingers, an illusory veil unfolded over the bland room and the stale beds became professional medical stretchers and the unseemly wooden desk was painted over with a lovely metal texture. The empty space that occupied the top of the desk was now filled with a fancy laptop; a piece of technology that shouldn't exist in the game but had been created from the memories within Alpha's mind. She looked it over with a proud grin, feeling accomplished in her interior decorating skills.

    Bland yellow tapestries, a modern lamp, a few boxes of miscellaneous items that contained things that even Alpha herself did not know. And, sitting plainly on the wall, was a tribute to Alpha's abilities. She frowned.

    There was something she had forgotten; something that tickled the edges of her brain. She squinted her eyes at the diploma warily, taking in every detail. Despite her best efforts, however, she found there was nothing off. The duplicated picture was something Alpha herself had earned on an online crash course on Psychology one day when she had been bored (it was more of a trivia quiz than anything and she had obtained it within a day with a $5.99 shipping & processing fee).

    And---oh.

    There it was.

    Alpha grabbed a red marker and, scratching off her name, wrote down her new alias:

    [​IMG]

    And her face twisted into a gleeful, prideful grin once more. Doctor Alfalfabert Charcoalate's Therapeutic Clinic was in session. Hopefully those billowing, spray-painted advertisements would catch someone's eye and she'd have her first client sometime soon. And, after she raised enough money from her impromptu job, she could finally buy that cool helmet she had been eyeing and join the battlefield as General Alfalfabert Charcoalate: Civil War Hero Extraordinaire.

    @Rivers Asteire
     
  2. Rivers was on his way out of Vintergard, he needed to get back to Brisshal to meet back up with Futaba and Aristides. He needed to make sure they were all right. He wanted to make sure that everything was alright between them. He'd asked for some space, but selfishly, he'd hoped they'd contact him. He'd been gone for a while. A lot had happened. Like...a LOT. Rivers had lost an eye, got a lance, even got a girlfriend. His online life was so all over the place. It was like someone was toying with him for their own amusement.

    Another thing that would be nice would be to get out of Astorea. They looked to be on the verge of something bad, and Rivers wanted to get him and Mist out of all that. Given, that was after they'd partied up to help kill dissenting nobles with Ivan and Comet. But those were details. And details were often unnecessary.

    On his treck out of town, Rivers saw what looked like a clinic. Wait...was this like a place for a shrink? A SHRINK! That's just what he needed! Rivers hadn't wanted to burden his friends or his girlfriend with his problems, but it was literally a shrink's job to listen about how crazy you were. Given, being shook because you had your decapitated head watch your friends die and your own body drop probably didn't make you crazy. But it definitely didn't make you not crazy. That was for the doctors to do. Rivers approached the clinic and steadied himself before stepping in. This would help him grow. Him growing would be good for him, Mist, and his friends. There was literally no downside in sight for this totally on the up and up business by a qualified, licensed professional.

    Stepping into the clinic, Rivers quickly realized he might be in the wrong place. There were hospital beds. Didn't shrink clinics usually have couches for you to lay on? Where were the ink-blots to convince you that all your problems stemmed from wanting relations with your family? Where were the motivational posters that clashed with the psychologist's depressing personality, which was meant to be theatrically ironic because you went to them to feel better? No, this looked more Patch Adams than Good Will Hunting. But, Rivers should at least check.

    "Excuse me, is there a doctor here? And what kind of doctor are you? Are you like a feelings doctor or a doctor doctor?
     
  3. "Ahem," Alpha regarded the blonde with an accented grunt, reaching down to pull out her stethoscope as if that was a factor in confirming her identity. "Howdy there!" she tilted her head in acknowledgement, a wry sort of amusement fluttering in her eyes. "Name's Doctor Alfalfabert Charcoalate, professional physician, psychologist, and psychic. It's nice to meet you, Mr..." she left the greeting open-ended, waiting for him to give a name of some sort.

    Regardless of how Rivers responded, however, she immediately did a little twirl and, grabbing a pointing stick from the chalkboard, shoved it mere inches away from Rivers' face. "And you, dear sir, are clinically insane!" Alpha cheered. That was how the entire medical monopoly functioned, right? You give someone some random diagnosis, prescribe them on some medications, and then profit? That sounded about right. It seemed like a good enough scheme to finally buy the battle armor she'd been eyeing.

    Snapping out of her thoughts, she shook her head sadly and, reaching up on top of the chalkboard, pulled down what seemed to be an artistic depiction of the human anatomy. "This," Alpha pointed to the brain of the male specimen. "Is your mind!"

    She prepared herself for a gasp of disbelief. Audience participation was essential to learning, after all, but whether she found herself disappointed or not was up to Rivers. She sighed, making vague and wild hand motions all around. "Sometimes, people's brains aren't the same as other people's brains. And that's completely normal! Yours, however..." Alpha stumbled off, snapping her fingers to make another illusory construct.

    This time, the human diagram slowly transformed, warping in shape and color, to an eerie replica of Rivers Asteire's face. "This is you," Alpha started and, with a wave of her hand, the image shifted once more; where once was Rivers' handsome face was replaced with the red-eyed stare of a demonic looking impression of the man. "And this is you on drugs."

    Alpha made her way over to the desk and, shuffling through the papers, smiled as she found the thing she was looking for. "Before we start our therapy session for your many, many problems, however, I'd like for you to fill this out for me. Remember to answer honestly and feel free to ask me any questions you may have!"

    Giving one of her stellar grins, she handed Rivers a piece of paper and a #2 pencil, perfectly sharpened.

    Alfalfabert Charcoalate's Diagnosis Test

    Question 1 - Have you ever been pregnant?

    Question 2 - Have you ever been bitten by a rabid sea monkey?

    Question 3 - Are you blind?

    Question 4 - How much money do you make in a year?

    Question 5 - How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck would chuck wood?

    Question 6 - What does this image look like?
    profile

    Question 7 - Is water wet?

    Question 8 - Are you a stranger to love? Do you know the rules? Are you gonna give me up? Are you gonna let me down? Are you gonna turn around? Are you gonna desert me? Are you gonna make me cry? Are you gonna say goodbye? Are you gonna tell a lie? Are you gonna hurt me?

    Question 9 - Is are what who when where how why?

    Question 10 - Do you feel emotions?

    @Rivers Asteire
     
  4. Quickly, like in the first sentence, the "doctor" popped into view and introduced herself as Doctor Alfalfabert Charcoalate. That...that was a name and a half. Given, Rivers Asteire was also a bit overkill of a name. Whatever. But he'd just call her Dr. C. That was easier; that was so much easier. But what if that made her mad? What if she had a strong attachment to her name and would be upset by him shortening it. Oh God, she was a doctor. She could poison him without a trace! IT'D BE SO EASY! But, of course she wouldn't do that. What kind of person would just poison somebody like that? Definitely not this upstanding doctor! Oh crap. While he was thinking about all that, Dr. C had asked him a question. What was it? His name?

    "I'm Rivers. Rivers Asteire. Nice to meet you Dr. C." In response to his name, Dr. C gave a twirl and declared that he was clinically insane. OH NO! He didn't know that! This was awful news. He didn't want to be crazy. How would he ever break the news to Mist? She needed to know. They'd kissed. Could crazy spread through a kiss? Wait. Wait no. Calm down. That's not how any of that worked. "Why am I crazy?" He needed to know. Where had it all gone wrong? When had he gone crazy?

    Dr. C then showed him a skull and pointed out his brain. It was so useful that she just had this laying around. Rivers was sure she could show him all kinds of stuff with this. However, she then changed the skull to his face. Oh? Was it the equipment doing that? Or maybe some kind of magic? Maybe illusion magic? That was probably super handy for figures and stuff. Like right now she could tell him exactly what was wrong with him. If there was anything wrong with him. Dr. C continued the showcase by showing him what his face on drugs would look like: it wasn't pretty.

    "How do I fix it Dr. C?"

    Like the answer to his prayers, Dr. C turned and produced a stack of paper. She explained that this was the survey he must first take in order for her to begin the therapy. Rivers looked them over. These questions seemed...odd. But, perhaps like the inkblots his responses would be telling. Trusting in the doctor, Rivers began to answer the questions.

    Rivers Asteire's Answers

    Question 1 - No.

    Question 2 - Not that I can remember?

    Question 3 - I'm missing an eye, so I'm 50% blind.

    Question 4 - Probably negative with school fees.

    Question 5 - Probably all of it.

    Question 6 - I think that's a turtle, but it might also be some unresolved issues with my parents.

    Question 7 - It's certainly not dry.

    Question 8 - Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down. Never gonna turn around, and desert you. Never gonna make you cry. Never gonna say goodbye. Never gonna tell a lie, and hurt you!

    Question 9 - Probably.

    Question 10 - Yes!

    Rivers walked over to the doctor and handed her the filled out questionnaire. "What does that tell you Dr. C?"

    @Alphabet Chocolate
     
  5. Disclaimer: All medical information provided is completely inaccurate in every single way possible.

    Alpha stared at the answers. Even if the man's financial balance was in the negative, he definitely had to have some sort of insurance considering that his wounded eye wasn't currently bleeding uncontrollably. She looked at the paper, then at Rivers, and then back. She continued doing so for about ten cycles before she coughed into her fist, crumpling and slinging the paper over her shoulder, and gave him his diagnosis.

    "There's a big difference between tortoises and turtles, blondie," Alpha said, her nickname for the man rolling off her tongue much easier than Rivers Asteire will ever be. "Good news is that we can fix this with enough hard work and dedication! Bad news?" Alpha paused a bit for dramatic effect. She even added the sound of clapping thunder and a faint mist using her illusion magic, making the scene infinitely more suspenseful than it really was (it was sort of like watching a soap opera scene with a tragic instrumental in the background).

    "All you answers indicate a severe case of mad cow disease. You didn't have any illicit relationship with a bovine, did you?" Alpha questioned, eyebrow quirked up for a second before she shook her head. "Never mind. Don't need to know, don't ever need to know. I guess I should explain to you what mad cow disease is before we go on about treating it!"

    She closed her hands together and, opening them up, a cow plush appeared between her palms. "It's a disease that passes between cannibalistic cattle. To be honest, I can't really blame them—imagine a life without steak, cheeseburgers, or fajitas?" she grinned, licking her lips. "Oooh, I love fajitas. Might have to go grab some after you inevitable demis—I mean, after your miraculous recovery!" she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly at the mistake, quickly throwing the imaginary toy away before Rivers had too much time to linger on the foreboding slip.

    "Anyways!" Alpha grabbed the chalk and, without a second's hesitation, began to scribble little bullet points on the plain green board (which didn't really exist but it served its purpose well enough for an illusory construct). "Mad cow disease also spreads through other means like a psychic virus. You know, kind of like that mind virus called The Game that was popular two decades ago? Yeah, you lost by the way."

    She reached into her pocket and, grabbing a sack of peppermints she looted from the Stokbon Sweets Emporium, she tossed it over at Rivers (albeit grudgingly; she'd get those back later). "Please take one peppermint a day for approximately a week. It'll help stop your body from slowly decaying, prevent you from becoming nothing but skin and bones, prolong your life, and avert any crises such as exhaustion."

    She pointedly failed to mention that eating anything would stop your body from being starved. She also failed to mention that any type of candy tended to give little sugary energy boosts.

    For a moment, Alpha was quiet, focused on studying Rivers' reaction to the dismal news. And then, after a minute, she snapped her fingers without warning. "Oh!"

    She pulled the piece of paper (which she had thrown away) and examined it once more (pulling the parchment out of thin air). She squinted a bit, giving her the appearance of actually reading the text. "Your answers also indicate that you have: Acute Pneumoencephalopathy, an allergy to tortoise shells and water, a case of the hiccups, you're half-blind, and you're overly attached to the point where you, and I paraphrase: 'Never gonna give me up, let me down, turn around, or desert me.'"

    Alpha took a deep breath before continuing. "You have poor money management abilities, poor memory recollection to the point where you forgot you were attacked by a sea monkey, and you have a split personality that believes itself to be a woodchuck. Your capacity to feel emotions is quite defective in today's cybernetic android society. You may be partly human biologically, so we might have to examine that. And your computer processing core is clearly dysfunctional in interpreting language, we might have to check on that."

    "I know it sounds bad but," Alpha stressed the last word, tapped the table, and straightened up. "With the power of positive thinking, a few blood sacrifices, and vitamins, I'm sure we can fix you up!"

    @Rivers Asteire
     
  6. With some hard work, it seemed like everything would be fine! Wait. What was wrong exactly? Dr. C hadn't given him a diagnosis. Was it that bad that she couldn't tell him? Then, with all the bedside manner of a mad bull, Dr. C gave him the diagnosis. Mad cow disease? Oh god no! Not mad cow disease. Anything but mad co- Wait a minute. That probably wasn't right. Like, Rivers trusted the doctor of course, but that seemed off. Wasn't that passed through meat? Wouldn't he have more physical symptoms if he had mad cow? Didn't that like...kill people? He only had the one death affliction. Rivers raised an eyebrow. "O-okay?"

    Wait, had she just asked if he'd had illicit relations with a bovine? "N-no?! Hell no!" Why would she even imply such a thing?! She went on to talk about how mad cow disease was passed from cows which originated in cannibal cows. W-was that right? That didn't sound right, but Rivers wasn't an expert on pathology. Why was he questioning the doctor? Given, Dr. C ranting about fajitas probably didn't help. "Yeah, fajitas are good," he replied absently. Wait, psychic virus? The game?

    "I lost the game." Rivers replied in chorus with her. Rivers fumbled as a sack of peppermints was tossed his way. Dr. C was telling him to take one of those a day to prevent the spread of his mad cow disease. "Oh like a placebo." This was like sugar pills. This was almost exactly like sugar pills actually. As Dr. C said, this would indeed give him some perking up and prevent him from starving to death. Given, the way she phrased it made it sound a lot more "grand" that it actually was. But maybe that's just what she did...embellish.

    Rivers listened as Dr. C listed everything else that was supposedly wrong with him. Wait really? All of those things sounded really bad. "Oh no, Dr. C. Will the peppermints fix those too? What else do I need?"

    "Wait, blood sacrifices? Whose blood? What are we sacrificing to? D-do we gotta do that now?"
    @Alphabet Chocolate
     
  7. "No, fool!" Alpha reached out to lightly whack the man over the head with the palm of her hand, chastising him with a small tsk and shake of her head. "Peppermints are miracles, yes, but this requires a more...personal touch."

    Her eyes glimmered, almost demonically, in the nicely-lit room. She reached into her pocket, rummaged for a little while in there, and pulled out a lint-covered, clearly old peppermint that passed its best-by date for who knows how long ago. Carefully wiping away most of the grime with her thumb, she plopped it over her tongue and savored the dulled sweet taste as it began to dissolve in her mouth, giving her inspiration to continue on her life-saving treatment plan for this poor man.

    "We'll need the blood of a virgin, obviously. Using that, we'll lure in a unicorn which we'll use as bait for the unicorn-eating sea serpent that lives by the coast. And then, after we pierce through its flesh with a blessed spear wrapped in mistletoe, we'll take its heart and use that to summon the bigger fish: a demon," Alpha licked her lips at the mention of the ungodly creature. Although her entire plan was, in essence, completely and utterly insane, Alpha was certain it'd work. Sure, it was unlikely to succeed. Alpha wasn't even sure unicorns or sea serpents or demons or virgins even existed, but she'd have to assume they were all real for the plan to work to cure the unfortunate Rivers Asteire.

    "And then," Alpha continued, eyes bright with anticipation. She grabbed the diploma, neatly tucked away underneath a glass cover on the wall, and smashed it against her illusory desk with a ringing clatter. "We'll bribe the demon with those peppermints to extend your life indefinitely and heal you from your conditions...deal?"

    The last word would've been menacing had it been spoken from anyone else but a short girl—perhaps the true demon had been here all along, playing the ploy of a doctor to ensnare an unwitting man into a preposterous scheme—but Alpha seemed to give the word a playful charm as she extended her arm.

    "Lemme reintroduce myself: I'm Doctor Alfalfabert Charcoalate, Psychiatrist, Ph.D., Medical Doctor, General Practitioner, Civil War Expert, General, and Demon-Hunting-Expert-Specialized-in-Obscure-Ritualistic-and-Mythological-Fields. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, blondie!" she smirked and leaned back to readjust the collar of her outfit. All of the titles had been fictitious at worst, unsubstantiated at best, but she seemed completely proud of all her supposed accomplishments.

    She reached over and slung an arm over Rivers' back, as if to reassure him. "Don't ya worry, pal. After this is all over, you'll have your memories, sight, and fajitas back! I'll even toss in a discount for every appointment thereafter!"

    @Rivers Asteire