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Pre-Sim: Psychological Eval

Posted Jan. 9, 2019, 11:25 a.m. by Lieutenant Elmira O’Shea (Chief Tactical Officer) (Trin S)

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Royal Sinclair (Counselor) in Pre-Sim: Psychological Eval

Posted by Lieutenant Elmira O’Shea (Chief Tactical Officer) in Pre-Sim: Psychological Eval

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Royal Sinclair (Counselor) in Pre-Sim: Psychological Eval
Posted by… suppressed (11) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Let’s just like around the mind of a Betazoid. That ought to be fun! The sarcasm in her thoughts dripped to her expression, revealing one of illmanner and displeasure towards the thought. Despite being telepathic, to a degree, she had never been much a fan of people poking around her head, searching for answers about her inner self. There was a reason she had barriers, and it was to prevent people with the nerve to tap at them, from getting in.

Alas, it was a required event, and she hadn’t much choice, if she had any plans of starting her work aboard that ship, anytime soon. It was simply another needle in her back, but at least it was tiny enough to manage. Brushing off hee uniform, she adjusted it about her torso, heading towards the Counselor’s office, where she hoped to get this done as swiftly as possible.

Humming, nearly inaudibly, as she passed through the halls, she searched for the door marked with the Counselor’s name and profession. With her hands comfortably clasped behind the small of her back, she tilted her chin up, narrowing her gaze to make certain of the room she had stopped before. Determining it was the Counselor’s office, she muttered a soft curse to herself, and pressed her hand against the chime.

Elmira O’Shea
CTO

A male voice with a pronounced Scottish brogue said “Come in, it’s open.” and the doors slid open to reveal the Counselor’s office.

Decorated in a warm and calming manner, the office was welcoming and not at all like the rest of the offices on board. The desk had been moved to the corner of the space where the bulkhead met the outer hull’s windows, opening the office space up for a seating area large enough to hold more than the single individual that most often came to talk with the ship’s Counselor. A couch and a few chairs were set around a small table, on which sat a crystal bowl filled with multicolored glass beads that seemed to have a small amount of internal light inside them. Two chairs sat facing the desk, probably allowing for more formal conversations or for administrative needs.

Low bookcases lined the walls, each one closed with a glass fronted door with brass hinges, in which sat some real books, many notebooks, and a few bookends of various sizes and shapes. On the wall behind the desk were several pictures on either side of a display case. Each shelf was filled with a few items the young officer seated at the desk had collected so far; but on the top shelf prominently sat a single item housed in a rounded glass display: The Star Fleet Marine Corps Distinguished Service Cross.

The officer himself was something of an anomaly as far as Counselors went, as well. Seated at the desk, the human male was still striking in size. Broad shoulders seemed to fill out the blue uniform of the Medical and Science section in a manner that seemed to contradict the norm, and the broad chest was obviously well-muscled. Bright blue eyes looked up from a handsome face graced with a warm smile. Blonde hair cut more akin to a Security officer or Marine topped his visage, and Lieutenant Commander pips on the collar seemed to contrast starkly to the man’s youthful appearance.

As O’Shea entered, the man stood up… and up… and kept going up until he reached close to seven feet in height. The smile on his face broadened. “Hello, Lieutenant. I’m Lieutenant Commander Sinclair, Ship’s Counselor. What can I do for you today?” he said, the Scottish accent now positively unmistakable. He gestured to a seat facing the desk and added “Please. Have a seat.”

Sinclair, CNS

The interior of the counselor’s office was remarkably welcoming, in comparison to the standard monochrome of the remainder of the ship. Warmth radiated from its walls, producing a serene air, which Elmira could say she almost felt. Its design was simple, but its contents were everything but. Seconds passed, and a dark, obsidian gaze seemed to study– to scrutinize every intricate detail of the man’s office. To be expected, she would have assumed, but for some reason, she had been anticipating an office a little less.. Bright, in essence, compared to the one she found herself standing motionlessly within.

The unmistakable drawl of the Scottish tongue broke past the silence she had found herself wrapped in. Her attention now adjusted to the bulky man situated behind a fair-sized desk, she was in for another surprise. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the service cross, leading her to the wild assumption that this man either had a history with the Marines (which his physique seemed to agree with), or had relation to someone who had. Surely, she knew better than to outright ask about his personal life, without even knowing who the man was. Holding her tongue, she offered a slightly crooked smile to the Counselor.

“Lieutenant Elmira O’Shea,” She nodded to Sinclair, taking a seat in the offered chair. In order to seem less tense than her body might have begged to portray, she brought her left left across her right, clasping her hands above her knee, in order to assume a relaxed position. As a Betazoid, she had never been the fondest of psychological evaluations, but she understood how trivial they could be to the operation of a starship. I suppose they don’t want a sociopath dealing with tactics. She mused to herself, raising her gaze back to the young counselor. “I’m here for a psych evaluation, if you don’t mind.”

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

“Of course. Few people come by just to say ‘Hi’. I would put real money on the bet that if it wasn’t required to check in, my office would probably become very quite for extended periods.’ he said with a chuckle. “One sec while I pull your file. If you’d like something to drink, please help yourself to the replicator.” and he tapped a few commands into the desk interface. It would then be noticeable to anyone with the right training that while his desk had a few odd mementos and such sitting on it, each was placed in a specific spot and at a specific angle to prevent anyone sitting at the other side of the desk to see clearly what it was he was typing at any time without making a very obvious physical adjustment to get a clearer line of sight.

Sinclair, CNS

Elmira wasn’t interested in what the Counselor was typing into the interface. Whatever he was doing was of his own accord and she really didn’t have much a reason to question it. Waving a hand, she shook her head. “I should be all right, thank you.” She hummed, waiting for him to pull up the profile. At first glance, there would be nothing outstanding about the fiery redhead, who seemed oddly mellow for what her outwardly appearance might suggest. Her records were clear, beyond a few reprimands from when she was at the Academy and in her Ensign years, although Elmira was no longer that troublesome woman, any longer. At least, she tried not to be. Emphasis on tried.

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

Sinclair looked through her file in a surprisingly short amount of time. Once he was satisfied, he looked up and said “So let’s begin. Why don’t you have a seat on the couch or one of those chairs - ” and he indicated the seating area, ” - and we can get to it?” He stood up and came around the desk. “I don’t like having a desk between me and others. I think it puts up a false impression of there being walls between me and who I am speaking with. And in this office, there is none of that. You are free to say whatever you wish. I am simply here to assist you in being comfortable on board and making sure there are no… potential difficulties… we need to be aware of.”

Sinclair, CNS

“I understand,” Elmira spoke quietly, rising to her feet. Maneuvering over to one of the chairs, she lowered herself into a seat, leaning her forearms against her knees and clasping her hands between them. It eased the muscles of her back, which flared up from time to time. “The separation between patient and doctor should not exist beyond the professionalism of the situation, and even then, a counselor really doesn’t fit that description.” She chuckled, watching the man with keen eyes. “What is it you need to know, Sinclair?” She questioned, hardly one to dwadle about before getting to the point.

Lt. O’Shea

“Well, let’s start with the big one and work our way backwards. You were obviously a troubled adolescent. What made you change to become a model Cadet?”

Sinclair, CNS

“‘Troubled’ is a nice way of putting it; ‘unruly’ and ‘in need of proper discipline’ are the truths.” Elmira remarked, sarcasm dripping from her tongue. “When you’re bad at behavior, you get punished. You get talked down to, like you’re some kind of animal. I didn’t like being treated like I was an animal, even if my behaviour begged to say I was. After being forced back to the Academy, stripped of my progress in Starfleet, I learned it was time to stop being stubborn and actually listen to the sound advice people were giving me. Alas, I’m not cured of the trouble, Counselor, merely in self-induced remission.”

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

Sinclair looked at her and cocked his head to the side. “And what about before that? Before you entered the Academy the first time? You went from delinquent to dependable… no record as to the why. So… why the change of heart?”

Sinclair, CNS

Elmira seemed reluctant to answer that question, a narrowing of her eyes enough to substitute for her claiming ‘I’d rather not say.’ Alas, she didn’t figure the counselor would let her off the hook that easily, so she figured she might as well answer it. “Actions have consequences, as I’m sure anyone with half a brain knows.” Her hesitation did not show across her features, which remained indifferent, impenetrable. She fell silent, debating if she actually wanted to go here, or just keep the counselor in the dark. Then again, Elmira wasn’t the kind to beat around the bush. Spit it out and be done with it, that was her motto.

“I hurt someone, Counselor. My stupid antics broke someone’s neck, but more importantly, their heart and their trust. There is nothing like looking into the eyes of someone you treasure the most, only to find they stare back at you blank and broken, before assuming a bitter hatred for what you had done.” She seemed almost to spit those words, as if she couldn’t be bothered to say them, or couldn’t bear their baggage. Either way, her gaze seemed to darken, as she leaned away from Royal. There was no disdain for him, only her own guilt.

“Can we move on?” She asked, impatiently, trying to avoid any further questions on the matter.

Lt. O’Shea
CTO

Sinclair listened as she spoke, careful to keep his own features passive and expressionless. Once she had finished, he said “If you wish. But know that guilt over actions that cause injury to another is actually a healthy reaction. Especially if it is someone that is important to us.” and he then changed the subject. “Tell me about your mothers.”

Sinclair, CNS

“I know..” Elmira had intended it to sound cocky, but it sounded more like how she felt; forlorn and regretful. “My mothers are two eccentric women, in their own respects. Androna, my Betazoid mother, is an incredible businesswoman. She can turn a room of skeptics into believers; her persuasion a trait I could only dream of ever possessing. She is a tad on the manipulative side at times, but I suppose you have to have a silver tongue to survive in business and politics. Nonetheless, her intentions are often pure, even if her execution is seldom the same.” She paused, thinking about Lilliu, her sweet face still present in her mind. “Lilliu, my human mother, was a kick@ss woman. She didn’t let anything get in her way. Until the day she found her last breath, she fought. However, she was sweet– almost too much so for her own good. She balanced Androna’s cold exterior with her own bright, vibrant personality.”

Lt. O’Shea

Sinclair smiled. The description reminded him of his Granddad. “How do you and Androna get along since her passing?” he asked.

Sinclair, CNS

“Hmm? Reminding you of someone?” Elmira caught the smile, wondering what he was thinking. “It’s been rocky; any death takes a toll on the family. Although, she’s decided to move back to Betazed, in hopes of reconnecting with her family. Gods know what will happen to her, but it’s all of her own choices. Personally, between us, ‘quiet’ is the best way to describe it.”

Lt. O’Shea


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