#abhinavthreads

[b4rredteeth]

@anchoragestarters LOCATION: hopeful light art shack limited (3/5)

Abhinav was cleaning up after a successful day at the art-shack. He was always glad when he felt like after a session of two hours with paint and what not, he could say he’d helped people. It was one reason why Abhinav was such a big fan of art: it was more than just pretty pictures, there was so much humanity in them. He cleared the last few things away and sat down with the last stray from that day’s session, taking out a tupperware. “I tried to carve a pumpkin, but in the end it looked like a hot mess, so I made some soup instead, want to try it?”

[b4rredteeth]

Abhinav realised his mistake, but there was little he could do to rectify it. He would never say that someone emotional should be rational, that wasn’t a thing to expect from heightened emotions, thus having conversations with them in places that were of a relaxing nature sometimes helped to take the top off. “Josette,” he said, not unkindly. “You know people will talk, but just because your reputation is at a low right now, doesn’t mean nobody will hire you again. I know that perhaps right now you don’t feel strong enough to have to win people’s trust back, but you will eventually, after you talk with someone, perhaps get some medication, ask for help.” He felt like he was pleading, but he knew sometimes something had to be repeated a few times before someone managed to do something with it. “You can make amends with the world after you’ve taken care of yourself.” 

"they're talking about me?" it could have been through the grapevine and it was most likely not the point she was supposed to pick up on but josette felt very much discarded. she knew very well what people thought of her, she had lost one of her best friends down to her behaviour and she couldn't break the cycle she'd been stuck in for a while. however, this time, it felt so much worse. "if people are talking, no one's going to want to hire me. i've done a lot of fucked up shit but i did care. i was good at my job and now-" she didn't really believe that. josette knew the hurt she'd caused all those years ago by not protecting people she should have out of her professional duty. instead, she had found herself in a relationship, pregnant - a mess. the woman could feel herself crying and it wasn't controllable. in that moment, she did want to ask her ex-colleague for help but then she didn't feel like she could be helped; it felt like she was screaming on the inside as a heavy weight was on her chest. "i've done some really bad things. i won't work again." it was an admission that needed to happen but one she couldn't accept. "i fucked up and now i'm being punished for it. it's not going to stop."

[b4rredteeth]

@daydreambelievcr

Death was a subject most people were familiar with, whether it was the death of a close friend, family, or someone simply once in their life. Everyone reacted differently to such news. Abhinav had grown up in a culture where someone’s death was followed by a whole ritual, where steps had to be taken before one could let go, where things took time, but where there was so much time to stand still to remember. He’d always been invested in the matter, had always looked for meaning in every moment that death took within the world of the living. He’d made sure the rituals presented for his wife had given his family time to grief. But not all deaths were given the same amount of attention. He’d figured out when he had moved to the United States with his mother and siblings, that in Western cultures, it was something that had to be barrelled through as quickly as possible, and to take a moment to reflect was impossible. One didn’t speak of death. 

In Anchorage, one spoke of murder. 

Abhinav was glad to find Valerie within the crowd as the talk turned sour, the murdered girl cast aside to speak of her potential murderers. He wasn’t even part of the conversation, but he could feel the claw of its subject push its talons into his back, and he addressed Valerie hoping he didn’t come off as too eager to get out. “Val, hi,” he said. “It’s beautiful weather, isn’t it, would you like to drink our coffees outside?” he asked.

[b4rredteeth]

for @withoz

Abhinav knew he couldn’t take days off, not when he was so busy helping people, not when his agenda was filled to the brim with appointments and meetings and sit-downs. He made sure to go to bed on time, to enjoy tea, take baths, try to relax in the types that he did have. It worked, but he realised after a day or two off, that his body was still exhausted. He had a hard time stopping, to slow down, even on his off days. 

But he knew this would pass, that within a month or two, things would slow down again. 

Meaning that on his off day, he was still taking care of others. He set the tea down in front of Dorothy and offered her the leftover candy from Diwali. “Alright, there is tea, snacks, we can relax now. How have you been, Da-eun?”

[b4rredteeth]

for @fromanchor (Fletcher) Diwali Thread

The South Asian Hindi community wasn’t necessarily big in Anchorage, only a handful of them could be found around the small town and Abhinav didn't know half of them, which would be odd, and he knew if he ever brought his mother here, she would instantly make a difference in that. But in a town where people constantly left and came, it was hard to establish any type of community. So he would have to share his Mathai with random people because he simply couldn’t spend less on them. He felt like he was personally putting the kids of the owner of the local Indian restaurant through school, given how much money he spent on it. His kids brought a whole box of delicious snacks to school every day of Diwali, strutting in their new clothing. 

To Abhi, Diwali was like new years, it offered a new start for everything; new clothing, clean house, oil bath. Everything was coated in light, even though Anchorage was starting to get coated in white snow. He took a spot in the library, his box of Mithai placed before him as he read a good chunk of summaries on the back of books to start the year again. He looked up at a stranger and opened the box. “Would you like some Indian snacks?” he asked. “It’s Diwali today, so I am sharing.”

[b4rredteeth]

Abhinav nodded, then offered a smile. “It’s their choice to come to you,” he said. “They have a choice, every human being has, so to say they’re wasting their money and time on you is incorrect,” he assured her. Whether people believed or not, they choose to find some higher calling to solve their problems, he had his own beliefs, so he didn’t fight others, unless if said beliefs were harming people. 

It was not a strange question to Abhinav, after all, he wasn’t offering therapy lessons, where he would let the other decide what they wanted to do. He nodded. “That’s okay, I was very vague about it,” he said. “You wouldn’t get in my hair or waste my time, it’s my job to help people, but I do it on the side as well. What I offer is some classes to help you find your limits and see how you can give all the information a space after. Of course, I’ll just be giving you suggestions, and you can find what works best for you.”

Rika sighed and buried her chin in her hands. "Of course it'd be lovely to think I'd helped somebody," she said, "But it's not all that comforting either, because I know they're wasting time and money on me." Maybe she should hand a sign on the door of her workspace, one that read, in big bold letters; BANNED SUBJECTS: MURDER, GRIEF, MISSING PERSONS & OTHER UNSOLVED MYSTERIES. A bit extreme, maybe, but sometimes that was the only way you got through to people. Back in Tokyo, she'd always been the kind, welcoming face of her and Sho's psychic reading business but it had always been hard to deny that Sho was, by a long shot, the more charismatic half of the pair. He possessed the strange talent of being able to speak as directly as he liked without ever losing business.

"I'm sorry but I'm not sure what it is you're actually offering," Rika said, sheepishly. She had never exactly been known for being bold or for taking risks, and the last time she'd been careless enough to agree to someone else's plans without a safety net...well, she'd wound up stranded in Alaska, hadn't she? She assumed this person meant well, of course. She wouldn't dare guess they had poor intentions! Still, it's good to know what you're singing up for. "I wouldn't want to get in your hair or waste your time, after all. Would you mind explaining?"

[b4rredteeth]

@tea-rcses for Rhodes / before 11.30 pm

Abhinav was not one for parties, he’d never been. It was always his wife that dragged him along to the right places, who made sure he would enjoy whatever she threw at him. She knew when he felt most comfortable, when he needed a nudge, when it all got a bit too much. He trusted her to know when to go home, and when he wanted to stay a little longer. And he in return could notice all the small changes in her as well, when she had her limit with alcohol, when he needed to drive her home. Parties by himself were… different. His kids didn’t want to come along, they had scoffed at his idea of joining the party, and instead had all made plans of their own. Leaving Abhinav to fend by his lonesome. 

He spotted Rhodes a few moments after he’d ordered his second - and last - small shot of whiskey. Just something to take the edge off, he could hear his wife saying. He took careful notice of the crowd around him, before he made his way towards her. He was never sure if he should call her Rhodes or Emma, given he liked to call people by the name he had on file. So he went with Rhodes, a nickname was a nickname for a reason. “Ah, I think I can guess who you are,” he said, as he joined her. “Elvis’ wife.”

[b4rredteeth]

@smckesprite

Abhinav was known for spotting people, how they felt, if something was bothering them. His children didn’t really appreciate this talent, at least not always. They would much rather he didn’t meddle with some of the things they were doing. But there had always been moments where it had come in handy, where he’d been able to help people better than if they showed up for sessions every week. After all, people who came to him had already accepted that they needed help. 

He knew Mireu wasn’t feeling at his best. It was visible to a degree that Ahbinav had begun to worry, though he wasn’t so sure how to bring it up. So he waited until after the  class was done and just before lunch to invite the other out. Figuring a quieter place might help. “Hey Mireu, say, do you have some lunch already? I am craving some fries, how about you?”

[b4rredteeth]

@drvgonbvnny 14th of September / Duck-Young's home

Abhinav held birthday parties in high esteem, because they knew what it was like to grow up in a big family, and the need people had to have a day where they were the most important individual. Their mother had taught them to treasure birthdays, so they did. Their siblings, their cousins, their own kids, and also the Seong-Graves. Which included Duck-Young’s child as well. 

He’d gotten a Dinosaur-shaped cake and two picture books, both wrapped in Dinosaur themed paper. He arrived at Dusty’s with a huge smile on his face. It had been a while since he’d actually attended a children’s birthday party. Or well, long since his own kids had been that age. It made him slightly giddy, and he had to physically restrain himself from knocking too hard.

[b4rredteeth]

@javed-kashif

Abhinav wasn’t one to ignore being social for too long, not even in the face of tragedy. Though… It depended on the tragedy as well. When his wife died, he hadn’t gone out for weeks. This tragedy was one of a different magnitude, but he’d still managed to move between home and work for the first three weeks after and not seek out anyone or anything besides. His kids didn’t seem worried, perhaps they were far too busy doing their things. It was summer vacation after all, and they needed to have some fun, to spend some time with friends and with summer jobs and not be concerned about the state of things. Like he was. Usually. And he didn’t even need to be directly related to anything to worry about that. He simply needed his own thoughts, those would be enough. 

The only way to break from the feeling of isolation and worry, was to go out into the world and distract himself with the means to be social. 

He spotted Javed by the bar, and walked to join him there. Familiar faces were always easier to talk with, and it wasn't against his personal policy to not speak with his patients. It wasn’t as if he was suddenly going to talk about one’s reason to be needing a psychiatrist. "Hi Javed. How have you been?"

[b4rredteeth]

@hercule-boisseau

Abhinav, unlike most of his colleagues, did engage in full conversations with patients outside of work. He wasn’t one who saw any problem with it as long as the conversation didn’t fall into the subjects discussed behind closed doors. That was his only rule. At times however, he felt like it was saver to hide away from people. Saver, but at times also unkind. 

He spotted Hercule in the supermarket and figured he’d just say hi, perhaps talk about dinner, he knew that was - or could be - a hard topic for Hercule, but it was also the only subject of conversation he could think of that related to the supermarket. 

“Hello Hercule,” he said, offering a smile. “Getting stocked up for the weekend?”

[b4rredteeth]

for @smileflowcrs (Nikolai) Diwali Thread

There was nothing like a good oil bath to start off Diwali, and despite the way his kids would every single year complain about the tradition, they would also always participate. They’d soak them all in oil, and then they’d all take a hot bath after rinsing off all of it again. He always felt better after it, new, clean, reinvigorated. When people asked, he’d joke that it was the reason why he still looked so young at forty-seven. 

He did a special class on Diwali at the art-shack, making the oil lamps used at night to battle the darkness. It rarely got very popular, with only a handful of people showing up. But the promise of Mithai at least got a few more to show up. 

“Hello Nikolai, I hope you’re here to participate and not just to eat all the snacks,” he said in jest, as he offered the box of assorted Indian snacks. “Though, of course, I’d totally accept it if it’s just the snacks.”

[b4rredteeth]

Abhinav smiled. Being bigender meant he didn’t always feel like he fitted the gender of ‘man’, but it also resulted in feeling a certain love for terms such as ‘good man’. As long as they had a positive connotation, he felt love for the term. “Then I will see you around, yes. Take your time finding me. I won’t be going anywhere any time soon.” 

end.

"You're a good man, then. Not too many of those left around anymore." Nadine complimented as she gave him a halfhearted grin. She had felt moved by their conversation, though she normally wasn't one that appreciated unsolicited advice. Mulling over his offer, she eventually began to nod along. "Art Shack, yeah. I think I could swing that." she said. It definitely wouldn't hurt — especially if it came for free, not that she ever really needed to worry about money anyway, she had been well-off since she was in her late teens.

[b4rredteeth]

@pcrasitic ft. Ophelia - before 11.30 pm

Abhinav expected to find many familiar faces at the party, perhaps those he’d seen recently, or those he hadn’t seen for a while. The promise of getting to party with familiar faces had made it easier to leave his kids behind and go out by himself, knowing those three would find a way to amuse themselves. 

As a physiatrist and general meddler in a small town like this, plenty of people he met were either his patients or had received (unasked for) advice from him on one or multiple occasions. He basked in the possibility of checking up with some of them, wanting to know how they were doing. So when he spotted Ophelia, he was quick to head towards her. “Hello Ophelia, how have you been?” he asked, a warm smile.

[b4rredteeth]

THE SEARCH IS ON… to be helpful @anchoragestarters

Abhinav had not presented himself as one to help with the search - he did not count himself the best individual for such ventures and he didn't want to worry his kids. Not that they would be too surprised if he did throw his body at the problem, like he would, constantly, to their annoyance. Instead he was grumbly aware that he'd be needed later, when this was all over, he would end up with a whole lot more people in the chair opposite of himself. Which, despite that it was his job, filled him with dread.

They took a deep breath, walking along the main road between the art shack and the clinic, knowing he would probably find someone who needed to a pick-me-up, not that he could offer more than words, but even the thought of offering some words, was enough to quell their own feeling of being on the edge of something bad. It wasn't that odd for Anchorage to be losing people to disappearances, it happened more than they were comfortable with, but they'd seen plenty of new people arriving.

Walking up to the first person he saw with slightly slumped shoulders, he offered a genuine smile. "You alright there, bud?" Bud, not a word he would usually use, but people reacted well to offers of familiarity, even if they were strangers. "Any way I can help?"

[b4rredteeth]

Abhinav smiled at them. A great smile, because it was rare that he was being asked about why he did what he did. “My father was a doctor,” he started. “Though, in the most traditional sense, religion was what was meant to save the mind. I was pretty young when I learnt how powerful conversation can be. Talking about what ails instead of letting it fester. I wanted to be a doctor like my father, but I didn’t want to be like my father, so I decided to focus on the healing properties of understanding.” 

Having lived most of their life in the circus, very little still could surprise Abhinav. It must also be age, they’d lived long enough to understand that there was so much to people that it made no sense to judge them based on one conversation. Even though their line of work suggested they should be able to make a diagnosis from a single interaction and a questionnaire. So when the unique profession was brought up, Abhi had about ten ideas to what that could entail. “Excotic dancer,” he repeated, nodding. He figured he knew what that meant, but he made no judgement. He said nothing, but he had to laugh a little when she joked. “Ah yes, that I can imagine. Sounds like the line of work that will have some interesting characters and emotions. I have no judgement about it,” he added, more for himself than for them. “But it is definitely unique. I am glad you don’t seem to be ashamed for it, that’s very refreshing.” 

They smiled, and then shrugged. “I never diagnose people outside of the office, but no, your exes are not very reliable. If you want, however, I’d be happy to schedule an appointment with you? Either with me or with my colleague. I know for some it can be very helpful to just know what they have.”

“What made you choose psychiatry?” Her eyes, normally watchful and cautious, now held a glimmer of curiosity that made them shine with an inner light. The allure in her gaze was unmistakable as she leaned in slightly, fully engaged in the conversation. 

With a slight twinkle in her eyes and a barely noticeable smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, she decided to share a part of herself that she rarely disclosed to strangers.“Well, you see, I have a rather… unique profession,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. “I’m an exotic dancer." She removes the bandaid. She didn’t know how he would take the revelation, but she couldn’t deny the thrill of breaking free from societal expectations and revealing a part of herself that most people would never have guessed. It was an unconventional profession, but it was also a form of art, a way for her to express herself and connect with her own emotions and those of her audience. As she continued to speak, there was a mix of confidence and vulnerability in her voice, a sense of pride in her craft and the courage it took to be unapologetically herself. "So, you could say I’ve had my fair share of encounters with various emotions,” she said with a playful wink. “It’s a fascinating world out there, both in the mind and on the stage.”

His question about a diagnosis brought a momentary pause, and Mary hesitated before responding. “I don’t have an official diagnosis, but I’ve dealt with anxiety and depression in the past,” she admitted. She was experienced in psychiatry for ADHD when she was younger, but she’d never kept up with medication or treatment. “I’ve been told I can be a moody, narcissistic bitch too, by a couple of exes too, but I doubt that’s a diagnosis in itself, but what do you think, unofficially? Are the rumors true? Do you think I have a touch of bi-polar, or a hint of borderline, or maybe I’m the wildcard with schizoid personality disorder?”