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The weak sunlight streamed through the slightly drawn blinds, illuminating the office of Team Rocket's own psychologist. The psychologist in question sat, half-asleep, on one of her couches. In her right hand was a clipboard which held several papers that she was kind-of-reading, and her left hand was busy being a head-scratcher for her Meganium, Basil. She was tired - oh, Arceus, was she tired - but damn it, she had a job to do.

According to the papers attached to the doctor's clipboard, her next appointment was for a young woman Grunt named Claire. Isadora wasn't really sure what the girl's complication was, but she assumed that all she had to do for this job was to act as a cushion for whatever was ailing her. That wouldn't be too hard.

In all of her career, Isadora had never seen so many late nights. She had papers to file, and letters to write, and she was just burned out. Perhaps she needed a little vacation, some time off. Yes, that was what she needed... Isadora blinked and shook her head, taking a look at the clock on the wall of her office. Her next appointment should be here relatively soon. The doctor stood, smoothed out her skirt and read over her notes once more. She might as well get this over with.

Isadora jumped slightly at the rapping on her door and the announcement of her new patient's arrival. She did not expect the woman to be so very... punctual. In fact, she was right on the dot. Well, that was something to be commended, at least. She was here, and that was what mattered.

The doctor pushed her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose, opened her office door, and gestured her arm to welcome the patient in. "'Elloh, miss Claihre. Pleahse come in. Mahke yourself cohmfortable."

Isadora took a step backward into her office and walked about, silently surveying everything to make sure no important papers or books were out of place. Once she deemed everything to be ship-shape, the doctor looked back at her patient. "Y' cahn sit where y' like. On one o' th' couches or on th' Mehganium. He lihkes cuhddles."

Isadora smiled pleasantly as her newest patient chose her seat and got herself comfortable. One needed to be completely relaxed in order for the psychologist to delve into the depths of their subconscious. It was the ideal scenario. She seated herself on the couch opposite Claire, taking note of the oddly colored Pikachu beside its trainer. The doctor smoothed out her ankle-length skirt, took hold of her notes, and regarded her patient with calm eyes as she spoke of her troubles. The one she mentioned did in fact sound familiar...

"Muhltiple pehrs'nalities, y' say? Mm... Tha' is a rahther sehrious c'ndition. Could rehsult from bipolah disordah, or frohm mahnic deprehssion... 'S difficuhlt t' tell." The psychologist shrugged her shoulders. She thought a moment, and her mind quickly snapped to a conclusion. She had a pretty good idea as to who exactly the person Claire was referring to, but to voice her own opinion on the person in question would be improper. From what another regular patient of hers had told her, the evidence fit the suspect to a T, but she could take no chances.

"Y' interahcted directleh wit' this person, yes? Could you pohssibly... dehscribe them f'r me?" As she spoke, Isadora stroked her Meganium's head thoughtfully. If what Claire said confirmed her hypothesis, then perhaps a conclusion could be reached. The scientific method was alive and well today.

At her patient's response to her query, Isadora blinked and stammered slightly. "L-lucahs?" That... certainly was not the answer she had predicted. Her hypothesis was incorrect - way off the mark. Still, though, even a failed experiment produces results, and this new news of her former patient was rather... troubling. The doctor sighed, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on her interlaced fingers.

"I see... Wehll, I'm glahd tha's cleared up, then," she murmured, half to herself. She returned her full attention the the matter at hand and glanced up at Claire. "I hahve, in fahct, spok'n wit' Lucahs some time b'fore, an' your theory of his... ahffliction being muhltiple pers'nality disordah is not out o' the question. From what I hahve gahthered, he doesn't seem t' exhibit all o' th' symptoms, but it could wehll be th' case."

Isadora paused to think a moment before pressing onward. It was wrong of her to tell too much of any medical problems concerning her other patients, but Claire was merely curious about it, and for that Isadora would oblige. She was not sure what exactly the affairs of Lucas meant to Claire, and she would not tell more than she was asked for, but she would provide answers if needed. "...Ahll I know is tha' whatevah he may hahve cahme upon by sohmethin' traumahtic. Very traumahtic."

The pen in Isadora's hand now worked quickly as she jotted down notes on what she was hearing as fast as she could. There were grammatical and punctual errors all over her handiwork, but she would forgive her handwriting sins later. The task at hand was what was important, and she would have to give it her full and undivided attention. She made a mental note to herself to double check her notes before she typed up any report on them. For all she knew, this might have to been seen by the higher-ups.

Once she believed that she had written enough for the time being, Isadora sat back against the couch, pushing her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose. Claire's next question was a tough one - one that she herself doubted slightly. She had not had much experience first-hand with those who suffered from multiple personality, but she had read of it and heard from her colleagues about it, and she did have an idea when it came to treatment... but treatment for things as serious as DID were often risky. Isadora considered her words carefully.

"...I cahn't think of any way t' 'cohmbine' th' personahs into one bein'. In th' victim's mind, they're two sehparate entities - it would be lihke tryin' t' combihne you an' I t'getah. Thehre are treahtments f'r individual sympt'ms, an' there are therapehs an' diffeherent mehdications..." The doctor sighed. "...Though I'm ahfraid mohst o' th' treatments avaihlable are very risky."

To tell the truth, Isadora was pleased to turn the attention of the conversation away from whatever treatments of DID there were. She knew precious little, but what she did knew was enough for controversy to bloom. She gave a kind smile to Claire. Learning all that she could from her could certainly help their situation. Her mentioning it has opened Isadora's eyes to the truth of the matter, and now they were all involved.

"If y' couhld tehll me all tha' y' cahn, I do think it'll 'elp. An' I undehstahnd wha' you're sayin'." Her demeanor turned more serious. It was serious things that they were dealing with this day, and it had to be dealt with delicately. The psychologist knew that all patient dealings were confidential unless absolutely necessary, when it concerned the health of another; which, in this case, it did. She would speak not a word to Lucas or his other persona.

"I shahll relahy nothin' t' Lucahs or t' his othah self. I cahn promise y' that." Isadora looked at Claire intently. She hoped that what she learned would be beneficial to both Lucas and Claire... Though she still did not see how Claire fit into the equation besides concern and mere curiosity.

Isadora quickly took some sloppily-written notes as Claire talked, pacing herself to write while the other woman talked to keep a rhythm, so as to avoid losing track. She made quick bullet-points and jotted down the words as quickly as she could, while simultaneously concentrating on what Claire was saying to her. The doctor was faintly aware of Basil resting his large head on her knee, his expressive eyes filled with worry for his owner. Isadora muttered to herself as she scribbled the words onto her paper.

"Tahlked t' both... sehcond personah ahdressed as 'imself... separahte entiteh..." The psychologist's brow began to furrow. From what she was hearing, all of the signs pointed towards the presence of DID in Lucas's mind - that is, Dissociative-Identity-Disorder - but the fact that that was the case was rather troubling to Isadora. She had no clue what a split-personality case would be able to do in a crime syndicate such as Team Rocket, whether it was just a matter of being disruptive or being destructive. It could prove hazardous either way.

The words still poured from Isadora's pen as she wrote, but as Claire mentioned "Luke" and how he came about when Lucas was thirteen, she stopped. The doctor blinked a few times, then stood and leaved through a large cabinet situated behind her desk. After a moment of spelunking, she retrieved a Manila folder and opened it, scanning its contents. Silence, then she sighed. "...I seem t' have no rehcord of anythin' invohlvin' Lucahs from when he was thirteehn. Th' dahta just disappeahs. An' Lucahs himself has tohld me nothin'."

Isadora frowned a tiny bit and gazed at the file. "It's... a combinahtion o' both, though mostleh of what Lucahs 'imself has told me. While I ahm a doctah, I'm still juhst a Gruhnt, an'..." She trailed off for a moment, looking rather sheepish. "Wehll, I don't wahnt any trouble wit' th' higher-ups, is ahll I'll say." Honestly, Isadora did not know if she necessarily had permission to view the files of individual patients: she had the bare minimum, and that was it. While she was indeed a doctor and thus entitled to such information, she was clueless as to the exact etiquette of crime syndicates.

Isadora quickly returned to her seat on the couch and retrieved her notes and pen, jotting things down as Claire spoke. She nodded slowly as the other woman explained what she had hypothesized. The pause was appreciated, and the doctor took that small window of opportunity to skim over her scribblings once again. As Claire spoke, Isadora hastily repeated it on paper, and once she was done, Isadora stopped to think for a second. She then spoke.

"Whaht you're sayin' mahkes sense. I hahve not heard of any other cahses lihke this where tha' has happened, but it's not out o' the realm o' pohssibiliteh." The doctor held her chin in thought. "Luhke could pohtentialleh be a defense mechanism tha' Luhcas's brain created. I think perhahps wha' hahppened - or maybeh wha' Luhcas did - was so against 'is moral fiber tha' his brain created Luhke to deal wit' tha' situation for Luhcas, in ordah to protehct him."