Week 1: The Doctor is In

A chalkboard sign appears on a sidewalk outside of an apartment complex one morning, it is carefully hand lettered without much flourish:


Down a well lit hallway, apartment 104 waits, the door is closed, but a sign hangs over it reading "OPEN, please come in."

Dr. Sayer's home office is sunny and warm, a bright herbal scent lingers through the whole of the space. Comfortable seating is off to the right of the door, sofa and two chairs sit around a table with magazines and a handful of children's toys and books. Plants take up space around a large bay window to the right. It's flanked with shelves lined neatly with bottles, jars, and bags. A woman with her hair swept up into a bun leans heavily on a cane as she adds small blue bottles to the shelves.

Sam Brockton eyes the chalk sign with suspicion. Holistic without the bullshit sounds kind of like... an enormous oxymoron. But that said, Sam's neck has been stiff for a week and maybe this could possibly help? Plausibly? And he doesn't have much else to do... so...

Sam makes his way to Apt. 104 and gives a light knock before opening the door and peering in. The place is nice for sure. Fancy. Compared to his office especially. But compared to his own office, a Wendy's dining area is fancy. "Um. Hey. You Dr. Sayer?"

"That would be me," Sayer says without turning around right away, preferring to finish the task at hand. When she finally turns, she's pleased that she has a good poker face (and, as she reminds herself, it takes all sorts).

"I'm Dr. Sayer," she half repeats herself as she holds out her hand. "Pleasure to meet you, do come in and look around." This may be a lie, she is unsure at this point. It's rarely a pleasure to meet anyone, if she's being honest. At the very least, this person looks like he's in need of a doctor.

Sam stares at the offered hand for a beat before taking it and giving it a shake. "Hello. Sam Brockton. Nice sign out front." She told him to look around and he does, absolutely brimming with uncertainty.

He definitely looks like he would benefit from a doctor though. Pale, clearly malnourished. The odds that one of the stains on his coat is blood are high. "So. Holistic." It is a statement but also a request for information. He's imagining the doctor waving an herb in the direction of a bottle of water. Or is that homeopathic? Is this crystals?

"Holistic, treatment of the person as a whole, taking into consideration a number of things." Her nostrils flare out in annoyance, not for any particularly good reason, but she always goes on the defense when people question her methods.

"I'm also an MD," she waves at several fancy looking diplomas on the wall. She lifts her head and stares at the man - Sam - almost defiantly. Although, she's taking him in, he's a mess, and looks like he needs a good meal more than anything else. "There are cookies and punch, if you'd like a snack while you are looking around," she tells him, tone more gentle now.

Sam's brow furrows. "Okay. That sounds completely reasonable. What's holistic with the bullshit, then?" Who knows if Sam is coming off as offensive. He doesn't mean to, but he is a disaster.

He gives a nod to the offer, making a line for the snacks, grabbing three cookies in one hand and a cup of punch in the other, which he needs to put his cookies down in order to get, of course. "So." He takes a bite of cookie, pausing to admire it. "I'm tired all the time and my back hurts."