Lt Alex Storm - Counseling: The Less Delicate Member of the Physician Sciences
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Karen Morris
Aug 2, 2025, 10:29:33 PM8/2/25
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((Counsellor's Officer - Deck 7 - USS Artemis-A))
Talking to a complete stranger about very personal challenges does not start out as a freeing experience. More often than not, the doctor first has to open old wounds, clean them out, apply medicine, and let them heal from the inside out. And then depending on how many other stressors a person does or does not have, healing can happen quickly or very slowly.
~*~
Alex had loved the class Particle Fluidity and Dynamics at the Academy. She loved the theory and practice behind how their phasers worked and how different factors affected their phasers and photon torpedoes and so many other weapons of destruction at their fingertips. She loved variables in those equations. Her mind had two settings - precise and abstract, and something about that class scratched both of those diverse itches like a metal comb on a Tagarin spider bite. It just felt so good!
But a new doctor - or counselor - as was the case, left even more frustrating and worrying variables in the equation. There was no scratching this itch. And it wasn’t even in itch here - it was a massively-gaping, angry, red and pus-filled wound that Alex didn’t want to let anyone touch. It hurt just to have someone look at it. She knew how to cradle it so as to keep it from aching any more than it already did, but letting someone ‘look’ at it meant that they had to probe around that hurt even at the beginning. She didn’t consider this a pleasant experience. In the case of an actual physical wound, the doctor could at least knock you out, so you didn’t feel anything. But counseling was a less delicate member of the physician sciences.
Since she wasn’t technically on duty, she had chosen something more her style - a grey plaid pencil skirt and a soft white, plain, button-down shirt. The sleeves were normal until the elbow where they flared out into a wide, flowing, full extension down to her wrists. Her black pumps completed the outfit.
In this, she walked confidently down the hallway until she reached the door. She noted that it was a different style than every other door on the ship. Alex quirked an eyebrow in interest. But before she had much chance to consider its purpose, a woman of medium height and soft auburn hair greeted her at the door.
Lux: Alexandra?
Storm: And you must be Commander Lux. Thank you for seeing me.
Did she really want to be seen? No. But she knew her last counselor on the Scimitar, Lt Morales, would make sure she was attending these sessions. So here she was.
Alex walked through the door and took the seat offered, crossing her legs and setting her hands gently in her lap.
Lux: :: indicates the bottles on the table :: Help yourself, if you feel thirsty or even if you need something to do with your hands.
Storm: Most counselors wouldn’t acknowledge that use of an object as being a valid one, but I’m good for now, Thanks.
Alex inclined her head slightly and sat down.
Lux: :: nods acknowledgement :: I've read your files that were sent from your previous therapist but I thought it would be helpful for both of us if you could tell me in your own words what brought you to therapy, perhaps share what it is you hope to gain from our sessions?
Alex wasn’t sure how this session was going to kick off. Every counselor seems to have their own style. This was straight and to the point. The problem was that Alex hadn’t planned on that approach, so it took her a moment to formulate her response. When she did, her words were slow. They started out tentative, but the further on she went, the more confident she felt.
Storm: Commander, have you ever felt driven by others to take a certain stance only to realize that you had worked yourself into a corner that was detrimental to your own happiness and well-being? And then you tried to make things right only to find out that you were too late?
Lux: Response.
The toes of Alex’s foot bobbed up and down slowly as she thought.
Storm: I’m sure I’m not the only one it’s ever happened to. But that’s my version of how I found myself in this predicament.
Lux: Response.
Alex’s eyes drew together and studied a spot on the floor for a moment. She pressed her lips into a line and raised her eyes again, meeting Lux’s gaze.
Storm: I think Kona sees things differently, and if I’m honest, I don’t know whose point of view is more correct because I’m sure that neither of us has a corner on truth when it comes to our relationship or our daughter.
Lux: Response.
~*~
Tags / TBC
~*~
Lt Alex Storm
Tactical Officer
USS Artemis
O240103SK2
Talking to a complete stranger about very personal challenges does not start out as a freeing experience. More often than not, the doctor first has to open old wounds, clean them out, apply medicine, and let them heal from the inside out. And then depending on how many other stressors a person does or does not have, healing can happen quickly or very slowly.
~*~
Alex had loved the class Particle Fluidity and Dynamics at the Academy. She loved the theory and practice behind how their phasers worked and how different factors affected their phasers and photon torpedoes and so many other weapons of destruction at their fingertips. She loved variables in those equations. Her mind had two settings - precise and abstract, and something about that class scratched both of those diverse itches like a metal comb on a Tagarin spider bite. It just felt so good!
But a new doctor - or counselor - as was the case, left even more frustrating and worrying variables in the equation. There was no scratching this itch. And it wasn’t even in itch here - it was a massively-gaping, angry, red and pus-filled wound that Alex didn’t want to let anyone touch. It hurt just to have someone look at it. She knew how to cradle it so as to keep it from aching any more than it already did, but letting someone ‘look’ at it meant that they had to probe around that hurt even at the beginning. She didn’t consider this a pleasant experience. In the case of an actual physical wound, the doctor could at least knock you out, so you didn’t feel anything. But counseling was a less delicate member of the physician sciences.
Since she wasn’t technically on duty, she had chosen something more her style - a grey plaid pencil skirt and a soft white, plain, button-down shirt. The sleeves were normal until the elbow where they flared out into a wide, flowing, full extension down to her wrists. Her black pumps completed the outfit.
In this, she walked confidently down the hallway until she reached the door. She noted that it was a different style than every other door on the ship. Alex quirked an eyebrow in interest. But before she had much chance to consider its purpose, a woman of medium height and soft auburn hair greeted her at the door.
Lux: Alexandra?
Storm: And you must be Commander Lux. Thank you for seeing me.
Did she really want to be seen? No. But she knew her last counselor on the Scimitar, Lt Morales, would make sure she was attending these sessions. So here she was.
Alex walked through the door and took the seat offered, crossing her legs and setting her hands gently in her lap.
Lux: :: indicates the bottles on the table :: Help yourself, if you feel thirsty or even if you need something to do with your hands.
Storm: Most counselors wouldn’t acknowledge that use of an object as being a valid one, but I’m good for now, Thanks.
Alex inclined her head slightly and sat down.
Lux: :: nods acknowledgement :: I've read your files that were sent from your previous therapist but I thought it would be helpful for both of us if you could tell me in your own words what brought you to therapy, perhaps share what it is you hope to gain from our sessions?
Alex wasn’t sure how this session was going to kick off. Every counselor seems to have their own style. This was straight and to the point. The problem was that Alex hadn’t planned on that approach, so it took her a moment to formulate her response. When she did, her words were slow. They started out tentative, but the further on she went, the more confident she felt.
Storm: Commander, have you ever felt driven by others to take a certain stance only to realize that you had worked yourself into a corner that was detrimental to your own happiness and well-being? And then you tried to make things right only to find out that you were too late?
Lux: Response.
The toes of Alex’s foot bobbed up and down slowly as she thought.
Storm: I’m sure I’m not the only one it’s ever happened to. But that’s my version of how I found myself in this predicament.
Lux: Response.
Alex’s eyes drew together and studied a spot on the floor for a moment. She pressed her lips into a line and raised her eyes again, meeting Lux’s gaze.
Storm: I think Kona sees things differently, and if I’m honest, I don’t know whose point of view is more correct because I’m sure that neither of us has a corner on truth when it comes to our relationship or our daughter.
Lux: Response.
~*~
Tags / TBC
~*~
Lt Alex Storm
Tactical Officer
USS Artemis
O240103SK2
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