"Appointment" wasn't exactly an accurate term for what was happening here, as both of the good Doctors in this room were aware. More accurately, Dr. Black had decided to barge in, entirely uninvited, and without warning. Had Alister not told her several days beforehand that somebody would be visiting, Dr. Lewis would not be in her office. And, to say that there were no forbidden texts on Dr. Lewis's shelves would be a grave mistake indeed. In parts of Africa, the Middle East, India, China, and South America, even being related to somebody who owned some of those books would be a crime punishable by death. The very notion of "mutant studies" is blasphemous to several religions.

Young Kaitlyn Faust had skimmed a few of the books on those shelves, as "homework" assigned to her by Alister. Now, she had a vague understanding of the field that Dr. Lewis dedicated her life to. Not that this has virtually anything to do with the subject at hand; that is, a conversation between Dr. Black and the completely legitimate Dr. Catherine Lewis, who looked just like the aforementioned red-headed child for a number of completely legitimate reasons.

Though Dr. Black was a fellow Miskatonic graduate, he was not immune to the routine that all of her other guests had to go through. She gave him a good once-over with her UV flashlight, starting with his face, and moving on to the rest of his body. "I'm legally obligated not to tell you about my recent work." She said this with such a businesslike tone that it surprised even her.

Her UV sweep complete, she walked over to the still-open door that Dr. Black had entered through and shut it slowly and cautiously, making as little noise as possible. "So I can't tell you how I knew your were coming."

She returned to her chair. "Why did you come here?" she demanded of him. Or, at least 'demanding' was the tone of voice she was shooting for. Dr. Black intimidated her, and it was already starting to show in her voice.

Dr. Black felt a cold feeling settle into guts, a consequence of realizing that he was not necessarily the more powerful party in this particular exchange. It was not a feeling he was particularly familiar with, but he had nonetheless felt it before. Usually with his old professors, come to think of it.

A long, grim stare at Dr. Lewis helped him regain some measure of his composure. "If you must know, I am here out of professional courtesy. I am hardly a stranger to the Mutant Studies Department, and it behooves me to keep track of my former colleagues even, perhaps especially, in unfamiliar circumstances." Perhaps arranging this unscheduled meeting had not been the most prudent thing Dr. Black had done this week. The least prudent, of course, had been drinking today's morning tea without bothering to adopt a form with a digestive tract, but at least that had resulted in nothing but tea all over the floor.

"If, of course, you ever require my counsel, you may call upon me at any time. It would hardly be appropriate, after all, if I did not return the favor you have so kindly granted me."

Now might be the time, Dr. Black thought, for a little test. " Of course, I am always pleased to catch up with a former student, though I'm afraid I don't recall if I've taught you or not. Tell me, did you ever take my Human Nature course?" That particular class had been a requirement for Mutant Studies majors for a solid decade, certainly within Dr. Lewis' time at Miskatonic. It had not started out that way, of course. Two years of students had to pass before the administration was convinced that Dr. Black's course was not "tainted by his own peculiar opinions." The fools should have known that if he could teach Plato to their satisfaction, he could teach conventional herd morality about human nature just fine. Plato was far more disgusting.

The smaller doctor managed to keep her ground in spite of the professor's unsettling glare. When he began to speak again, she felt immensely satisfied by the fact that she hadn't just destroyed her own office. Slowly, carefully, she walked back to her desk and sat behind it, not even bothering to gesture at the folding chairs that leaned against a nearby wall. Her eyes were on him the entire time.

She would give the offer of his "counsel" more serious consideration after she knew what he was doing here, or how much he knew about her "unfamiliar circumstances." Or better yet, why he thought she was her "colleague."

As for that test, Kaitlyn had spent hours coming up with entirely plausible and unverifiable lies for just such a situation; thankfully, that work wouldn't go in vain. It was only a matter of recalling one. "I... uhhmmm..." Catching herself, she tried to look less shocked and more thoughtful. "Hmm. I don't know. I think so, but my mutation makes my memory kinda bad."

Dr. Black raised an eyebrow. A small tilt of his head completed the quizzical expression. "Is that so? Well, I should be nothing if not understanding of such consequences of our little peculiarities. Most, after all, come with substantial benefits, even if they are a tad destructive as often as not."

Well, as long as he was here, the good doctor intended to make the most of this meeting. Ever curious though he was, Reginald was especially fond of showing off his own little peculiarity. "I've heard that your work has been focused on mutations of a more mental nature, but I can not help wondering what you will think of this." A tendril slid out of his index finger, drawing mass from the excess flesh of his arm to give a few feet of elegant black curvature.

"Would you believe Dr. Lewis, that this actually more resembles of my true appearance than my own face does? Convenient though it is, my humanity is really something of an illusion. It makes one wonder just what other people conceal just under the surface, don't you think?"

Kaitlyn was beginning to realize just how much this man liked big words. It was kind of annoying. Words like 'behoove,' and 'peculiarities' especially bothered her. She could navigate around them well enough by taking them in context, but it was risky business, and a good reason for her to avoid attempting an actual conversation with him. Dr. Black was the real deal – he was an academic with a solid academic vocabulary, and he wasn't afraid to brandish those big words of his when he got the chance. And what better time to brandish them than in the presence of a fellow academic?

She should've paid more attention to Mrs. Boyd's vocabulary lessons. Coulda, shoulda, woulda.

The finger-tentacle-thing didn't particularly surprise Kait Catherine. She'd seen plenty of strange and unnerving things in the Sanctuary, before. Where she was researching some mutant stuff this one time. Because she researched mutants, because that was her job. So she knew a lot about these things, and she knew a lot about what to say about these things, and she wasn't unnerved in the slightest.

She was just... thinking. About how to answer Dr. Black's question. The smaller doctor leaned in, propped her head up in her hands, and thought about it for a moment.

"Hmm... your 'true' form?" she prompted.

Maybe if she got him going on about his own stuff enough, she wouldn't have to actually answer for anything. Other people in the Sanctuary claimed that this worked like a charm on their teachers, back when they went to school.