Met with Ms. Asher for first session.Student presented with a euthymic affect and was amicable throughout session.
Discussed details of future sessions. Ms. Asher presented a guarded front, but was open to discussing simpler topics. Will work towards building client-therapist relationship in regular session.
Client was more anxious than expected during today’s meeting.Treatment of related symptoms may break through defensive behaviors.—Caleb Shepard, Violet Asher’s DAP Notes
Violet twirled her hair around her left index finger as she waited. She had an interesting cocktail of calm and irritation warring for her attention. She finally had a proper shower and some clean clothes. She didn’t love the uniform, especially with the dull accent color she’d been assigned. Apparently, only a few specialties of calling got the more colorful uniforms. They had let her choose how to assemble her uniform, at least. There were a few configurations, with choices between skirts, pants, blazers, and blouses. For class and campus activities, anyway. The uniform for practical education was a bit more rigid. Violet had mostly chosen the classic look, with a skirt and blouse. She felt it would reinforce the persona she’d chosen, although she did have one set with pants, just in case. But that was all trivial. What mattered in the moment was that it was clean and undamaged.
She was also blessedly free from Chase. They hadn’t had a proper conversation yet, but she knew it was coming. He’d want her help pursuing the issue of Alex, and possibly of consequence for the conductors once Alex’s body was found. She’d have to play along. Although, she was fairly certain that making the choice to leave, at least, had been precisely what the conductors were supposed to do. They’d face no consequences for that. She decided it might be fun—and deserved—to see what consequences she could manifest for the conductors’ other failures, however. She chuckled internally at the thought of making them pay some price for letting her explore a nest. There wouldn’t be severe consequences, of course. If they had conductors to spare, such inexperienced assholes would never have been on that train in the first place. They were supposed to have a more seasoned lancer, but even so. The city obviously couldn’t afford to fully remove anyone with the “Conductor” calling from their position. In any case, she would direct Chase’s energy in that direction when the two of them finally had a private moment.
Overall, Violet was in a good mood. She was clean, and she’d escaped the appalling atmosphere. Inspired by too much death and a missing boy. This was soured, however, by the room she was sitting in. The chair itself was comfortable, and the room was immaculate. An environment designed for comfort and calm. Perfect for therapy.
She wasn’t free from pretending she missed Alex. She’d have to put on the whole song and dance for someone new, now. It simply wasn’t fair. She’d shed one weight around her neck, and the price for that shouldn’t be a fresh one. A hollow one. It was irritating. More so, since the therapist she was there to meet—Mr. Shepard—was on the phone, several minutes past the planned time for her evaluation. It was a power play of some sort. Violet was certain of it. He was making her wait to establish that his time was worth more than hers. That he was in control of this session, and she was not. This made her especially angry, because it was true.
She couldn’t simply leave. She couldn’t walk out and prove that she wouldn’t value his time if he wouldn’t value hers. Because he did have power over her. She couldn’t begin her classes until he “evaluated” her. Until he decided she was ready for them. She would have her new, clean uniforms taken away and live wherever they kept uncooperative students until she played his stupid game. She hated it. But it was a familiar feeling.
She was still in control. Maybe she wouldn’t be, at least not in this meeting. For an hour, she may have needed to give up control. But she was patient. She would get it back, and she would remember every stupid game she was forced to play along the way.
The door to the inner office finally opened. It had been about ten minutes after Violet had taken her seat, and the therapist had excused himself to take a call inside. “I am so, so sorry about that,” Mr. Shepard said, even as he closed the door behind him and locked it in three separate places. Violet lifted her right eyebrow at this, but said nothing about it.
“Oh, it’s alright! I understand how busy everyone must be here! Everything is so much… faster than I’m used to. I don’t mind at all,” Violet assured. Mr. Shepard rewarded her with an embarrassed smile.
“Busy I am. Even so, I am horrified to have left a client waiting, especially for our first session,” he replied. He made his way to his own chair a few feet away from Violet and sat down. It struck Violet exactly how intentional each movement the man made was, like simply sitting was a performance. He wouldn’t move so much as he would glide from place to place.
“I’m sure it couldn’t be avoided, Mr. Shepard,” Violet allowed with a sweet smile. The man nodded gently in gratitude, then his eyes began to move as if he were reading something.
“Alright, Miss Asher. My name is Caleb Shepard. If you are comfortable with it, you may call me Caleb. Do you mind if I call you Violet?” he asked.
“It’s what everyone else calls me,” Violet shrugged. Mr. Shepard examined her for a quiet moment, then curled his lips up ever so slightly.
“Very well then, Miss Asher. Before we begin, I just want to clarify a few things. The first and most important of which is this. This is a safe place. You are as safe as you will ever be here. That’s not to say this office is more physically secure than the rest of the academy. Simply that you can share, or withhold, whatever you need to. I will never punish you for either choice. And I will not share what you choose to tell me, nor what you choose not to tell me,” he said. Violet tilted her head.
“But you have to say a little, right? In order to approve—or deny, I suppose—my class attendance?”
“Only my opinion on whether you are, or are not, in an emotional place where you can safely participate in the stresses the academy’s classes inflict. But I will share no details that you share with me. Those stay here, and in my private notes,” Shepard assured. Violet watched his eyes as they occasionally flicked away from her. It reminded her of Daniel, a little.
“Your notes? Is this being recorded?” Violet asked. Shepard smiled and shook his head.
“No, no, I don’t record sessions with students. Perhaps with my adult clients, but not with students. Chromatic Academy would never allow that. No, I have short-term notes I can keep with one of my talents, that is all. I will transfer them into a hard copy in your file, and then they will be erased. As I said, whatever you say here will be completely private, unless you tell me you plan to harm yourself or someone else,” he answered. Violet bit her lip, and declined to respond for a few moments. For Shepard’s part, he could tell she was processing, and he elected to wait for her to speak.
Finally, Violet let out a sigh. “Aren’t we dangerously low on lancers? Can the academy really afford to bench me?” she asked. Shepard nodded.
“No, you are absolutely correct. We can’t afford to waste anyone who volunteers. But similarly, we can’t afford to risk burning through what lancers we have now by neglecting them, physically or mentally. I’ll be honest with you, Violet. A desperate city would just send you out to the front lines without caring if you are safe to serve in that capacity. And they would find themselves more desperate the next day. We need you. But we don’t need you for a single day. So, yes, we can afford to bench you, if we must. In fact, you could say we can’t afford not to,” he explained. Violet leaned back in her chair.
“Fair enough, I suppose. Well, I am eager to start classes. What do you need to ask me?” Violet pushed.
“Well, that depends. What do you hope to get from these sessions?” Shepard returned. Violet flinched.
“Sessions?” she asked. “I was under the impression we would have one interview, and I would be cleared. Is that not the case?” The therapist sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
“I see Mr. Bouvier is as… brief a man as ever. That’s not your fault, Miss Asher. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. We don’t simply do a single meeting and then teach you how to use your calling as an effective weapon. Perhaps there was a time when that may have seemed reasonable, but again. We have passed casual desperation. We live in a world desperate enough to do things well. I’m being honest with you here, Violet. Because I’ve read the report of your trip here. I know what you’ve been through, at least on a surface level. And I’d like you to know you can trust me. Because I want to keep talking with you regularly. I’m not sure how regularly, yet. But regularly,” he explained. Violet suppressed a groan.
“Oh, so I won’t be attending classes for some time? I don’t want to fall behind, Caleb,” Violet pressed. Mr. Shepard shook his head.
“Not at all. I don’t see any reason not to allow you to attend basic classes, for the time being. You are a first-year, after all. The good news about that is, you don’t need to rush to relive or think about anything you don’t want to. Today, I’d just like to get to know you a little bit. No pressure. Just… a long introduction,” he said.
Violet was only growing to dislike the man more. He’d started with a power play, and he still thought he could buy her trust with soft words. She wasn’t sure if she hated it more or less that he was so bad at toying with her. It reminded her a bit of her parents. Or, at least her father.
“Well, alright, then. I suppose I can do that. Apologies if I’m not as open as people are supposed to be in this sort of setting,” Violet responded. Shepard shook his head.
“There is no such thing. At least, not with me,” he dismissed. “Or rather, however open you choose to be is exactly as open as you are supposed to be. I am here to listen. What I listen to and when? Well, that will be at whatever pace you decide.” Violet crossed her arms.
“And if I never open up enough for you to decide I am ‘safe’ to send out as a lancer? Do we suddenly move at your pace, do they send me out anyway, or do we just do this forever?” Violet asked. Shepard held his arms out in an open way and shrugged.
“I don’t know, Miss Asher. I am here to help as much as you will let me. That’s all I can offer, and all I can promise. What happens next is up to you. You are totally in control of the answer to that question.” Violet smiled at the lie. They were sweet words, but she could read between the lines. She could talk at her own pace, sure. But eventually, they would make the choice for her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been forced to come at all. Shepard wanted to mandate her presence and convince her she was choosing to be there. Right.
“Well, I suppose I can live with that. What did you want to know about me?” Violet asked.
“Anything you want to tell me. You can tell me about your trip here. You can tell me about your boyfriend and your worries about what happened to him. Or, you can just tell me about yourself in general. Your family, your friends. Your favorite food, if you’d like. If you prefer, you can ask whatever you’d like about my qualifications, or about this process moving forward. For the next…” he paused, looking up and to the right at something Violet couldn’t see, “forty-two minutes, we can talk about anything that interests you. Once that is done, we’ll talk about when our next meeting will be.”
She uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. She declined to ask him any questions about himself just yet. “Well. My name is Violet Asher, and I hate carrots.”