ArchivedLogs:Mutual Patients

Mutual Patients
Dramatis Personae Alec, Edward, Iolaus, Neve
In Absentia	2014-07-16 The founders of the two mutant clinics meet. There are lots of smiles.
Location <NYC> Themis House - Upper West Side
There is a great deal of psychology to be found in Themis House. This is not just due to its staff of psychologists and social workers. The building itself was chosen for the effect it inspires on those who come inside. It boasts an open design constructed with glass, brushed steel and concrete, with floor to ceiling windows meant to let in as much natural light as possible. The two-story space feels immense and cool, but is saved from sterility by the use of an indoor water feature surrounded by ferns and comfortable modern furniture in cheerful shades of sea blue, lime green and chocolate brown. The lower floor is dedicated to greeting and meeting spaces, the immense atrium arranged so that one is faced with a low, wide reception desk upon entering. To the left behind a glass wall is a meeting room with a long table surrounded by rolly chairs; there's a flat screen TV up on the wall at the head of the table. To the right the area is open with the water feature and a collection of couches, chairs, low tables and even a snack bar stocked with fresh fruit, muffins, juice and coffee. Beyond the reception desk is another glass wall, inset with a number of doors that lead into smaller, more intimate meeting rooms for one on one visits and intake interviews. The second floor is open to the lower one, and overlooks it behind a circling glass-fronted balcony reached by spiraling staircase or an elevator tucked out of the way. Here is where the executive director and other staff keep their offices, and where records are stored. There are tiny cameras hidden within black glass domes in corners on the ceiling, silently recording what occurs below on both floors. The afternoon has begun to fade into evening across the City, a cool breeze carrying humid air past the many skyscrapers of the Upper West Side. The fading sun's rays have begun to break their way through the heavy air, making the subway somewhat less oppressive, and lestening the bustle with which the many New Yorker's make their way from air-conditioned building to air-conditioned apartment or air-conditioned restuarant. The main doors to Themis House open and close, leading in two men, both dressed in dark suits. One of them is wearing a charcoal suit with a blue tie expertly cinched around his throat, every inch looking almost regal as he impassively looks around the lobby. The other, in a navy suit and silver tie, has a much wider smile as he glances around the lobby and makes a beeline for the reception desk. "Good afternoon," Iolaus says, with a warm smile. "How are you doing today?" Business has been winding down at Themis House but it hasn't really tapered off entirely. In the sitting area, a woman with silver-streaked hair is sitting beside a teenager on one of the couches. The teenager has eyes on stalks, and they swivel back and forth as the woman addresses a young man in yet another business suit seated opposite the pair. To the left, in the glassed-in meeting room, a few casually dressed individuals--all outwardly normal--are clustered with stacks of paperwork, chatting and filling out forms. And then there is Krystal. Krystal is manning the reception desk. An important fact about Krystal--she loves people. /Loves/ people. She was well-picked for this job, her bright eyes lighting up with what looks like genuine pleasure when the gentlemen step inside. "Welcome to Themis House! I'm doing great, how are you? How can I help you?" Above, a dark wood door opens and yet another pair step out onto the landing. The gentleman is older, with white hair and an equally snowy beard. Wrinkles have gathered beside his brilliant blue eyes. The young woman with him is short, blonde and dressed in a white and yellow summer dress. They face each other and he cups her head between his hands, lays a kiss on her brow. Quiet words are exchanged before the young woman turns to spiral down the staircase at a pace that implies exhaustion. Iolaus' eyes follow the two walking out onto the landing, and his smile spreads on his face. "I'm quite well, thank you. I believe that the person that I want to speak to is right there, in fact," Iolaus says, eyes fixed on his target. "Doctor," Iolaus calls up, stepping forward and along the reception desk. "Might I have a minute of your time?" Iolaus' companion follows with a quick pace, though his lips thin slightly at the raised voice. His eyes glance around the room cautiously, landing on each person in turn with a carefully examining gaze, despite the bored looking facade on his face. Krystal is drawing a breath to say something, perhaps something long-winded, when the two fellows just walk right on by--leaving her to give a simple (and mildly disappointed), "Oh." Neve pauses as well, poised between one step and the next, her head turning to mark the pair who've summoned her father's attention. The older gentleman had also turned and been prepared to disappear once more into his office but at that title, he pauses. One of his hands comes to rest lightly on the railing as Edward Leone looks down at Iolaus. He looks curious. Interested. There's a merry twinkle in his eyes, something very like mischief when he calls down, "That depends on how long you count a minute. What can I do for you?" "As a fellow researcher, I'm sure you know of our tendencies to lose track of the time when we manage to get started talking," Iolaus says, a warm smile on his face as he looks up at both of the two Leone's. His pace brings him forward quickly, stepping up the staircase that Neve is descending, with his companion - Alec - close on his heels. "Doctor Iolaus Saavedro, of the Mendel Clinic. It seems absurd to me that we haven't met, considering how much our organizations and our research parallel." The smile on his face doesn't quite mask the determined look in his eyes, though it does obscure it. Neve retreats up one step and twists her neck again, this time to look up at the senior Leone. The man's fingers drum once against the landing's railing before he nods. His expression doesn't change, though undoubtedly the mind behind those merry eyes is ticking away. "Doctor Saavedro, of course. I've admired the work you've done with your Clinic. If you give me a moment, I'll be right down. Neve, will you show the gentlemen to some seats and offer them something to drink, please?" Without giving the young woman opportunity to answer, he turns and finally disappears into his office. Perhaps he means to fetch his suit jacket. So they all /match/. Left with no choice, Neve returns to descending. By the time she reaches the last step, she's found a smile for the pair too. "Welcome to Themis House, Doctor Saavedro. Sir. If you'll follow me?" Her tilts her head to Iolaus, then Alec before turning to drift towards one of the bank of office doors. "Do you take coffee?" Iolaus' eyes track the elder Leone as he disappears into his office before Iolaus turns his crystal blue gaze onto the younger of the two. "Ms. Leone," Iolaus says, voice bright and pleasantly warm. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Though, I confess, I feel like we have already met you from your book and your speeches. Your author's picture doesn't do you justice." The doctor says, nodding his head once politely. "Oh, I don't dare, or I really will talk your ear off for hours. Thank you, though." In the mirror-image of the previous, Alec takes the lead behind Neve, with Iolaus a few steps behind. "You have a beautiful office. Rather more comfortable looking than mine, though I'm sure that's quite the intent." There is a trace of laughter in Iolaus' voice. "Unfortunately, one can only do so much with the Health department breathing down your neck for anything even an inch off of code." "That's kind of you, Doctor." Is there color in Neve's cheeks as she reaches a door and opens it for them? It's hard to tell, she's turned her head in such a way that she could be looking into the room to gauge its suitability--or hiding the fact that the compliment's made her blush. But her smile remains, stubborn little thing. It does deepen though, at the praise of their surroundings. "Sometimes it's hard to remember that I've become /known/, after so much time spent hiding myself away. And we've done our very best to make this as comfortable a place as possible. We've been fortunate to avoid some of the challenges you faced with the clinic. If you both have a seat, my father should be down in just a moment. Would you like anything to drink?" This question is for Alec. The room she's chosen is a smaller version of the large meeting room. There is an oval table, office standard, surrounded by padded seats on small rollers. Leather upholstery, very plush. There are tasteful modern prints on the walls, a /real/ potted tree in the corner. Iolaus' eyes watch Neve with his full attention, the piercing gaze of a practiced researcher peering at a subject under a microscope. "I understand the impulse. I still get surprised when someone recognizes me, even after all of the press interviews and everything else. Deep down inside, you don't really feel the change. From being a private person to being a public one." He nods, once, sitting down in a chair after a nod from Alec. "I'm glad to hear it. They are trials I recommend avoiding, if possible." "No, thank you, Ms. Leone. I'm quite alright." Alec's english is, well, English, and could be pulled from the very airwaves of BBC One. His eyes scan the room carefully before he gives the nod to Iolaus and stands next to his chair - the closer of the two to the door. "I suppose because the change is only on the outside, in how others see you. Please make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen. My father will be right down." Again Neve nods to them--Alec first this time, then Iolaus--before she withdraws. Notably, the door is left open and she can be seen crossing the floor to the reception desk, no doubt to be greeted with enthusiasm by Krystal. And then there is Edward, filling the doorway. Tall and solidly built, he shoulders into the room while straightening the cuffs of his jacket. "I apologize for the delay, gentlemen. You caught me mid-report and I needed to make sure I'd saved everything. Have no fear though, I don't intend to time this little meeting. Now." He pauses to step aside and swing the door shut before moving towards one of the chairs. "What can I do for you?" "Thank you, Ms. Leone," Iolaus says with a smile - a smile soon turned onto his fellow doctor, nodding his head once. "No apologies are necessary, Doctor," Iolaus says, voice still maintaining its warmth. "We did, after all, come without notice. I appreciate you fitting us in to your, no doubt, busy schedule." He pauses for a moment, for politeness' sake. "It seems to me that our organizations have much in common. We both aim to help mutants be healthy and happy, in all respects. Leaving aside the matter of how," Iolaus continues, with a slight pause and a widening of his smile. "I think that there are certainly going to be a lot of patients who have us in common, and it would be good to be able to make sure that our mutual patients can get all the care that they need without either of our budgets getting depleted for work duplicated." Edward settles back in his chair, his fingers laced, his hands settled comfortably over a late middle age paunch. He is well fed and at his ease while he listens attentively, though he doesn't just focus on Iolaus. Those bright eyes shift back and forth between Alex and Iolaus both. "Of course, of course. The overlap would be considerable and best to pull in tandem when yoked to the same harness. I've followed your work closely, Doctor Saavedro. It isn't an exaggeration to say you've won an admirer in me with your tenacity." He smiles, and when he does his whole face comes alive with light. And wrinkles. So many wrinkles. Now he's looking at Alec alone. "And who would you be?" "You have me at a disadvantage, then, Doctor," Iolaus says, brightly. "For I have not been following you for nearly as long. You've only recently come into the public eye, though I would say you certainly know how to make an enterance." Iolaus says, tilting his head slightly to one side. "A cure, for mutants? That's certainly an - impressive scientific acheivement. We've managed to - in some, narrow cases - fashion dampening for mutants whose powers are hurting them, but nothing nearly as broad or complete as what I've heard of your own work." Iolaus' head dips in acknowledgement. Alec looks at the other Doctor with a faint smile. "Oh, don't mind me, Doctor. I'm merely here as Doctor Saavedro's guard. Just a shadow on the wall, so to speak." "I'm going to /have/ to mind you if you don't take a seat, son. All that hovering's making me nervous. Your doctor's safe here. Go on." Sit, Edward's gesture says. He might be immune to British. As for Iolaus, he settles back again and studies the other man. after a moment, his smile slams back into place. "You mean those posters they've put up over the city. A cure...there's no cure for genetics. Not yet. Artistic license, they called them. A symbol. Some might wish it was a symbol for a lightswitch, just...flick it off." He gestures again, miming the action of darkening a room. "But we're honest with our clients here. Those it won't suit, we tell them so. But leaving aside the matter of how," he says, using Iolaus' own words, "I don't doubt we could work something out in the matter of referrals. Most of our work focuses on up here." A temple tap. "And here." Heart tap. Alec's smile stays perfectly in place as he takes a seat in his chair. Almost immediately as he does so, he becomes boring. Very, very boring. So boring, in fact, that when he scoots his chair backwards from the table and tugs out his phone, it's really not worth noticing at all. "If there's a cure for genetics, I'm going to feel very silly for all that work in grad school," Iolaus says, matching smile with smile, and he nods along with the other man's words. "Of course. We have a mental health program as well, though it is rather more generally targeted than yours, I think. A lot of substance abuse therapy, as well as your standard gamut of psychotherapy and psychopharmacology." Iolaus' hands spread out in a shrug. "It's not my area of expertise, as it is yours." Funny that, Edward's attention slipping and hanging on Iolaus without hesitation or distraction. "It is the focus here," he agrees. "Finding the balance between mind and body. We /are/ looking to compile a list of surgeons open and willing to cosmetic alterations and other adaptive surgery however, if that runs closer to some of your services. And, of course, if your surgeons are amenable to that sort of thing." The rough skew of his smile suggests he is fully aware that not all /would/ be--particularly among those sympathetic to mutants. "It's a stroke of good luck that you came by, actually. I'd been hoping to find someone to throw this grant money at, in that regard." "We do have several clinicians who are affiliated with the clinic who have experience with plastic surgery. They're not on staff, because we generally call on them only with more extreme cases, but I'd be happy to reach out to them and see if they're willing to take patients from you," Iolaus offers with a smile. "Sadly, most of the surgical experience within my team has been trauma and emergent surgery recently. My cafeteria sees operations almost as much as it does pizza these days, I'm afraid. I've been looking to expand the clinic with an actual surgical and hospital wing, but." Iolaus chuckles, spreading his hands in a shrug. "As I'm sure you're familiar with, running a non-profit can mean being creative with the bills as they are, nevertheless expanding." The way Edward shakes his head implies sympathy and a sort of rueful humor at the situation. Particularly the pizza comparison. "It's a juggling act but well worth the effort. But maybe that's something I can help with. There /are/ grants if you know who to approach, cap in hand. I was in D.C. for too many years to not have a rolodex filled with the best sort of contacts." His chuckle is bluff, hearty. "In return for discretion, of course. A full surgical ward...wouldn't that be something," he says, eyes twinkling again. Grinning, Iolaus nods once, twice. "Discretion?" The doctor raises one eyebrow, tilting his head slightly to one side. "I am a doctor, Doctor. If you can't be discrete, you aren't fit to be a physician. Though, I do admit, I'm curious as to what the discretion would be /for/. Grants are, after all, public. If you are referring to your medical treatment, I am more than happy to make sure the proper non-disclosure paperwork is in place." His eyes twinkle, as he adds, "I have no interest in stealing any of your intellectual property, Doctor." Edward holds up a finger. Ah ah. "Grants are public. The names of those pulling the strings on certain committees, less so. Not everyone is unsympathetic, but /open/ sympathy is a rare commodity." He smiles into his beard at certain phrases--non-disclosure paperwork is such a happy string of words, and no interest in stealing as well--and cocks that same finger at Iolaus. "Don't think I'm not prepared for just such an eventuality. I'll take your word for it though, Doctor. One day I'll publish and no one will be able to steal it at all. But today is not that day. Now..." An arm is cocked, the sleeve drawn up to expose his watch. A classic signal. "I don't mean to rush you out the door but I'm expecting a very important phonecall shortly." Iolaus stands up, nodding his head. "Of course. It was good to meet you, Doctor. Please, don't hesitate to give me a call if you need some assistance. The Mendel Clinic is always open to all those who need it." He extends his hand to the older man, eyes locking with Edward's, smile still on his face but steel hiding in his eyes. "With physicians out there forgetting our moral obligations and the lessons that our profession learned at Nuremberg, like the ones who worked with Prometheus, those of us who remember them should stand together." A pause. "Thank you for your time, Doctor." The older man moves to stand just half a second later. He doesn't hesitate in this, in reaching out to take the offered hand. His grip is as hard as the look behind Iolaus' smile. "No better way to build a better future for our children than by standing together," he concurs. His own smile curls up to one side. "If enough of us remember that, maybe we'll see some damn changes rolling in. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor. I'm sure I won't be a stranger." He holds the handshake a beat longer before releasing Iolaus to the care of...who was it? Did he ever get a name...? Oh, never mind. He'll get the door, like a proper host!