Dr. Sean Neville

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The Basics

Name: Sean Patrick Neville
Nicknames: Doc, Steve (Josh only)
Age: 62 (Born 1957)
Pronouns: He/Him/His

Orientation: Bisexual
Desired Rank/Job: Staff Psychiatrist; Acting Headmaster
Powers: Telepathy and Memory Manipulation
Play By: Liam Neeson

The Details

Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Blue

Height: 6’ 4.5”

Any Piercings? None. Although he had a pierced ear for a few years. It was the seventies, and he’d thought it was a brilliant idea. Eventually, he got sick of it, and the hole closed up. Thankfully, few people remember him during his wild years.
Any Tattoos? None.
Any Scars? One under his left pectoral, which he doesn’t like to talk about.
General Appearance: Sean stands out because of his height, if nothing else. He stands at 6’ 4.5” which tends to make him the tallest person in the room; he uses it to his advantage, because in his experience, students are impressed by height and pay him cursory respect on that basis alone. The rest of his proportions match his frame, with wide shoulders, long legs, and large hands and feet. His shoe size often dwarfs those of other adults; it can be a bit frustrating, and he often shops at special stores rather than risk the hit and miss offerings at establishments with broader clientele. He was never particularly muscular, and, as a youth, was nimble but not thin. Over the decades, between his sweet tooth, the higher caloric intake of psychics, and his drinking habits, he's developed love handles that remain in place as his metabolism has slowed. He has a fitness routine, for heart health more than physique, but it goes to the wayside during the holidays or periods of stress when comfort foods and alcohol resume a more prominent place in his diet.

His eyes, a deep blue shade reminiscent of still waters, are alight with the spirit of his younger self, but the crows feet have built up, and his skin has begun to sag. He’s getting on in years, and he’s keenly aware of that fact. His hair has begun to thin a bit, and the grey that began as isolated strands in times of stress have moved from his temples to his crown. He maintains a mostly conservative haircut, a stark contrast to the long hair of his youth. For many years, he had a beard, but when it started to grow in salt and pepper, he shaved it off. He’s clean shaven now, unless after a particularly bad night or growing one out in service of a Halloween costume (or because Josh wants him to). In contrast to his spouse who struggles to grow even the faint echoes of a beard, Sean's facial hair grows in fast, and within a few days, he could recover side burns or a goatee, but he finds this adds ten years to his face. Irish all the way back on both his mother's and father's side, he burns rather than tans, and is liberal with sun screen when out on the boat or at the beach. He speaks in a rich baritone in a largely standard American accent, so many years away from New York banished the worst of the nasally Long Island accent he might have inherited; still, certain regional turns of phrase and pronunciations still pepper his speech.

He maintains a stark contrast in his wardrobe between dressing for work and his attire at home or on the weekends. At Hammel, he always wears a suit and tie, with crisp collared shirts  and neatly-pressed trousers. After all, one must cultivate a certain air of professionalism. Although his clothing is typically neutral colors - white or light blue shirts, dark suits, he is more willing to express himself with colorful ties, and on St. Patrick's Day, he always wears green. At home or around the town, he tends to be found in jeans or corduroys, with sweatshirts and sweaters to tide him through the long winter months, with Polos, over shirts, and the occasional graphic tee shirt in the warmer ones. This includes bell-bottoms that long fell out of style, and which have been adjusted and readjusted for his frame over the years and decades; nostalgia keeps them in his wardrobe. He has a Bear Pride shirt of which he's particularly fond, a present from Josh many years ago, but the connotations ensure that he wears it only at home, while souvenir shirts from concerts or plays make his outdoor rotation.  dresses precisely the way one would expect when on duty: a suit and tie which are kept as neatly pressed as possible. After all, one must cultivate a certain air of professionalism. He and Josh maintain a robust costume chest, for both personal use and for Halloween, into which he always dives to coordinate, as it's his favorite holiday. He has two rings that he wears whenever he isn't showering or asleep: his wedding band, worn on his left ring finger, and then a moonstone claddagh ring on his right hand which he wore as a sign of commitment prior to their marriage.

Sean carries himself with confidence, maintaining excellent posture despite the creak in his lower back and his knees, unwilling to stoop over quite yet. He can assume the role of the stern disciplinarian, but he is generally approachable and offers gentle, reassuring smiles to friends and patients alike when offering counsel. A firm devotee of active listening, he often nods and maintains eye contact during conversations. He isn't prone to talking with his hands or towards broad gestures in conversation, and while he enjoys physical contact, he's mindful about maintaining other people's personal space, and relies on the telepathy to discern who takes comfort from which approach.
Personality: Years ago, when speaking to one of Sean's coworkers, Josh described him as close to being a saint himself. It was a frankly laughable description, although high praise, and Sean keeps that with him as motivation. He left the Church long ago and no longer believes in the concept of saints, beyond his mentor. Robert was as close to a saint as any person could hope to attain.

One of his primary motivations is living up to the memory of his mentor. Although he sees all of his own flaws when turning them over in his mind or looking in a mirror, he still applies himself with greater success than large swaths of the population. That he is motivated primarily to help others, to improve the world, to do good unfortunately sets him apart more than he would like.

As a telepath, Sean is excellent at keeping secrets, capable of code switching and remembering who confided what to him so that he never crosses wires. A strong memory and a slew of tricks and mnemonic devices aid him in this endeavor, as do thorough note-taking and impeccable handwriting. He is organized and responsible, maintaining an impeccable workspace and filing system.

He’s cautious in most scenarios, preferring to analyze situations rather than acting without assessment. The few exceptions to the rule are when a loved one calls upon him, or if there’s a crisis that demands immediate attention, such that he doesn’t have time to think. At that point, his natural instincts and his medical and psychiatric training take over, propelling him to see through the crisis and then sit back and decompress in the aftermath. The less noble instances of shedding his inclinations involve imbibing in too much alcohol and Josh making a suggestion. He's always had a weakness for making Josh happy or going along with his ideas as long as they weren't dangerous or horrifying, and the combination of the two typically leave him amorous, much to the chagrin (or consternation) of those around them. He is typical the voice of reason among his peers and students alike, a gentle reminder to temper one's expectations and to look before leaping. This makes him particularly well-suited for his job, but because of his ability to see and hear more than the average person, when his advice is disregarded, he grows inwardly frustrated.

He is prone to brief periods of depression, which typically last no longer than a day or two, and which drain him of his energy. He refers to this as the slow-down, during which he is overcome by fatigue and loses his appetite. One of his soothing rituals is to play the piano during times of sorrow or distress, a clear indicator of his mood, because he never plays when happy due to associated memories.

Sean possesses something of a martyr complex, where he'll give and give until he reaches the point of exhaustion; this is born from an outsize sense of responsibility caused by his powers. A foundation of his moral code is that it is unethical to turn a blind eye to a problem if you know about it, no matter how you know. Because the telepathy makes him privy to other people's unexpressed thoughts, he will focus on them because he is the only one capable of doing so, or believes he is. Likewise, he has never been particularly skilled at delegating tasks and finds himself taking on more to shoulder the burdens for others, while reluctant to ask for similar consideration. That he genuinely enjoys his job and also uses work as a coping mechanism for stress makes it difficult for others to discern if he needs a break. There is a sense that disaster might follow if he leaves for too long, bolstered by the fact that this has happened on several occasions. Related to this, he is meddlesome but goes about it in a subtler way than the average nosy neighbor who won't leave you alone. Your problems are his problems, whether you want his help or not, and he'll devote more thought and effort to solving them than you realize, especially if you didn't know that he was aware in the first place. Then it seems to come out of nowhere.

Although raised religious and conservative, Sean is a staunch atheist and a dyed-in-the-wool liberal. He went through periods of intense activism as a young man and still is quick to support causes in whatever way he can. The older and more financially secure he has become, the more donations have played a role. He still actively writes letters, calls politicians, attends planning meetings, and even protests when they come by, but this is an area where he is more willing to play support than shoulder the burden alone and take the lead (or serve as the Yoda-like figure). He walks the line between idealism and pragmatism, firmly believing that there are certain topics where compromise is immoral and ultimately counter-productive. He has a strong moral code of his own making, influenced by professional ethics, Robert's tutelage, U.S. law, and societal expectations, but he discards what he believes doesn't fit, or might not apply because such rules weren't created with telepaths in mind. This is not an excuse for rudeness.

He is an introvert who requires some time at home to recharge his emotional batteries, all the more important from the constant strain of maintaining mental shields in public. His home is his sanctuary, where he needn't worry about other people's anti-psychic bias and discomfort with his powers. Despite this, he is active and social, enjoying the company of friends and loved ones, and attending parties regularly. His ability to comport himself with group expectations leads some to think him an extrovert, but the contrast between himself and his husband, an actual extrovert, is stark enough to show the difference. Even with parties, he does based engaged one-on-one or in small groups, where he can focus not only on words but on body language, facial cues, and thoughts.

He strives to be a rock for others, the shoulder they can cry on, the hands to sooth them, and the voice to counsel them. He is more of a listener than a talker unless engaged in a topic about which he has expertise or a strong opinion, at which point he can (and has) talk your ear off. He prefers a collaborative approach to conflict, but will not back down if it a matter of personal or professional pride. This unfortunately has led to flashes with his sister throughout their estrangement, although his more typical manner of dealing with her is to argue the points until he is too exhausted by her point of view and abruptly ends the conversation. He is slow to frustration and takes care to control his emotions lest he become overwhelmed. He can count on one hand the number of times he has been truly angry, and he judges himself that it is so many - an area where he believes that he fails to live up to the idea of his mentor, who was so calm, forgiving, and peaceful at all times. Sean forgives but never forgets.

Sean adores children and always expected, and yearned for, a family. That fatherhood never materialized is one of his greatest regrets, and he compensates by mentoring his students and by doting on his nephew and the children that Ryan presumably will have in the future. Animals make him somewhat uncomfortable, and this is apparent in how he has not had a pet of his own since childhood.

Your Vices

Likes:
-Traveling with Josh
-Paul Simon music
-His powers
-Chinese food
-Baked goods
-Strong liquor
-Mental health parity
-Halloween and dressing in costumes more broadly
-His and Josh's roleplay and continued flirtation
-New York City
-Philosophical and political discussions
-His nephew
-Children
-Classic movies (particularly To Have and Have Not)
-Sailing
-Long drives
-Kurt Vonnegut novels
-Crossword puzzles
-Woodworking and knitting
-Poker and pinochle with friends
Dislikes:
-Horror movies
-Migraines
-Insomnia
-Celebrating his birthday
-The way his knees ache a little more with each passing day
-Conservative politics
-Organized religion, particularly the Religious Right and the corruption of the Church
-Anything he considers to be anti-medicine or anti-psychology
-Camping
-Other people's songs getting stuck in his head via telepathy
-The ravages of age
-Twitter and social media more broadly
-The Red Sox
-Feeling helpless and having his advice discarded
-Bigotry
-Ayn Rand books and her followers
-Violence (he is a pacifist)
-Horrifying fast food concoctions like the KFC Double Down
-The prolonged company of animals (they make him uncomfortable)
-Blizzards that begin before Thanksgiving or persist after St. Patrick's Day
Strengths:
-He is a particularly strong psychic, considered the strongest at Hammel, with impeccable mental shields and 50 years of experience
-Knowledge of psychology and medicine coupled with an active medical license
-Foreign languages (he has a talent for picking up enough to get by)
-He has a calming effect on those he works with
-Intelligence
-Control over his abilities
-Woodworking
-Knitting
-Organized
-Strong memory
-High alcohol tolerance
-Reads music and plays the piano (don't ask him to perform)
-Patient
-Observant
-Excellent handwriting
Weaknesses:
-Joshua Bernstein and his effect on Sean’s judgment
-Singing (to say he’s tone deaf is to be generous)
-Headaches and migraines (they’ve gotten better over the years, but he’ll suffer them if he pushes himself too hard)
-He’s overly cautious in 90% of situations which can make him appear weak or indecisive.
-As an ex-catholic, he’s rather opinionated on the topic of religion, and once someone gets him started, he won’t stop.
-His occasional bouts of depression
-His somewhat more frequent bouts of insomnia
-He just isn't as fit as he used to be, because he's getting on in years
-Uncomfortable with animals
-Pain in his knees and lower back
-Martyr complex
-Meddlesome
-People don't always take his advice and it is the most frustrating feeling in the world
-Prone to comfort foods and alcohol when stressed or after a bad day
-Pacifist

Family Ties

Father: William Neville (Deceased)

Mother: Mary Neville (Deceased)
Siblings: Kathleen Finnerty nee Neville (Born 1960)

Spouse/Partner: Joshua Bernstein

Any Other Important People:

-Ryan Finnerty, nephew (Born 1989)

-Shiya Haddad, Ryan's wife

-Josh's siblings, in-laws, nieces, and nephews

History

Sean was the older of two children born to William and Mary Neville, a devout, upper middle-class, Catholic couple living in Long Island suburb. His father was a doctor, like his grandfather, while his mother was a housewife like so many other women of that same socioeconomic class during the Post War period. The Neville parents were conservative, and tried to give Sean and his younger sister, Kathleen, a traditional 1950s upbringing, complete with weekly mass at the cathedral downtown and his primary and secondary schooling with the Jesuits. Unfortunately for his parents, by the time Sean was ten, the counter-cultural revolution was well underway, and several of his neighbors were spreading the word.

Around the time of his twelfth birthday, as the school year was winding down, Sean’s abilities began to develop. Most noticeably, he heard voices and simply “knew things” which he couldn’t explain. Sometimes events would pass, and Sean was the only one who would remember, leading nobody to believe him when he spoke of them later. Coupled with this frightening knowledge and the paranoia of hearing what nobody else could and remembering what nobody else did were migraines more painful than he’d ever experienced, than he’d ever believed possible. Occasionally people spoke of childbirth or kidney stones as the worst pain possible, but he was sure that he was dying. For an entire summer, he wept and locked himself away in a vain effort to make it stop.

A relatively healthy child, his parents didn’t know what to do with him. They had no experience with such behavior or long-term illness, and there were no meta-humans in their lives that it might cross their minds. Mental illness was still heavily stigmatized, and nobody dared say aloud that he might be crazy. Heaven forbid.

It was in confession at the beginning of the school year, Sean nearly in tears from confusion, fear, and pain, that he received an answer. “You aren’t crazy, Sean, and you aren’t any more sinful than the rest of us.” Father Benedict had patiently reassured him that there was nothing wrong him. “You’ve been blessed, Sean; this is a gift from the Lord.”

“If it’s a gift, why does it hurt so much?”

“Not every gift is easy, my son. Jesus himself had to die on the cross for us.”

That kindly priest did more for Sean than anyone else in terms of helping him through the worst crisis he’d ever faced. Sean eventually paid him back by leaving the Church when he lost his faith, although he did go to Father Benedict’s funeral. He even brought a date.

A recruiter from the Hammel Institute found him shortly after, quietly alerted despite the general expectation of confidentiality in confession. The situation was explained to the Nevilles, complete with a blood test to confirm what was blatantly obvious to anyone with even a modicum of telepathic awareness. Sean was a meta-human, his gift less a matter of faith than of biology and neurology. He needed to go to Vermont to attend the school for children like him, where he could learn to control his powers without suffering as he had for the entire summer. Sean wasn’t given a choice in the matter, but he was so eager for help that despite the worry of leaving behind his family, he packed with little hesitation. He began seventh grade not with the Jesuits but with the faculty at the Hammel Institute.

His sister never forgave him for leaving her behind. She also never forgave him for leaving the Church, so truly there’s more than enough resentment to go around.

Sean struggled at first at Hammel, partially borne from the isolation and partially from his childish hopes and expectations that this would get easier immediately. It didn’t, and that made everything worse, magnified, of course, by the strain of his powers themselves. His salvation came in the form of Robert Hopkins, his assigned trainer, and a telepath himself. The foundation and application of their powers were similar, and the older man knew precisely what Sean was experiencing, guided him through every training session and dispensed advice and comfort outside of them. He became a mentor, while teaching him how to keep his thoughts in and everyone else's out, how not to touch memories unless he wished to, how to focus through the noise and find a single mind among the masses. It took years to convince him that he wouldn't end up with his mind shattered into pieces from the strain. Life at Hammel was overall patient thanks to Robert's influence and relatively insulated, which was precisely what he needed at the time. More than that, after his first couple of years, he made a friend, who quickly became his girlfriend. They were inseparable for the few years they dated, but fell out of touch when they found themselves on opposite sides of the country for college.

While Robert focused on training his powers and bolstering his sense of self, Sean's other teachers imparted lessons in English, history, science, math, and the other core subjects. He absorbed enough to graduate with high marks, and applied to New York University (NYU) just as the war in Vietnam was ending, and the counter-cultural revolutions continued to set the city afire. Those four years of college were the most enlightening of Sean’s life. Already identifying as a pacifist, he found a place with a group of like-minded students, among them Greg and Daphne with whom he quickly became inseparable. They attended protests together, they signed petitions together, they did homework together. They went out on weekends and met up for meals, and broadened each other’s horizons.

His senior year, a new addition to their group changed the course of his life. Joshua Bernstein was an enthusiastic freshman, bright-eyed and eager to do good. He quickly imprinted on Sean, and they became fast friends. Soon after, the telepath’s world turned upside down. Although he had long set aside his conservative political upbringing, he still considered himself a devout Catholic. And yet he couldn’t understand how the man who would become his best friend could possibly be condemned for following a different faith. He didn’t understand why God would make Josh irresistible and yet banish him to Hell for noticing. He didn’t understand why and how he could feel such an attraction to another man when he liked women and had dated them for years.

He simply didn’t like women enough.

Compounding this was the telepathy - incontrovertible proof that Josh returned his feelings. (It was obvious even without telepathy; Josh had myriad positive qualities but subtlety never numbered among them). By the end of the semester, his yearning had reached a fever pitch. At a party, surrounded by music and free-flowing beer and under the dimmed lights, Sean kissed him.

Then they were dating. They scrupulously hid this fact from their families and the school administration, even as their friends reacted with glee. Greg had been banished from his home for being gay, and neither Sean nor Josh wanted to suffer a similar fate.

The next semester, he applied to medical schools with the intention to pursue psychiatry, a merging of his personal interests with the expectations of his parents. He graduated in the class of 1979, and found an apartment off-campus. Josh moved in, and for years, they remained passionate and devoted. As Sean moved through medical school, Josh finished college and entered law school. They would be two professionals in the greatest city in the world, their entire lives ahead of them.

Their relationship had obsessive elements, and there was a measure of co-dependent behavior on both their parts, a combination of telepathy and personality and youthful expectations. The Break Up nearly destroyed him, and he carried those scars through the years, applied unconsciously to his subsequent relationships.

After graduating from Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons, Sean entered his residency period at a premier hospital in the City. It was the beginning of the AIDS Crisis, formative years marked indelibly in his memory with every lost life. They were horrid years to be a man who wasn’t straight, to have a community succumbing to the illness. For so long he worried about Josh and Greg, and with every funeral while the government and broader society turned a blind eye, or worse, blamed them for their suffering. Once upon a time, his friends had teased him for his insistence on using condoms even with Josh. “No matter how spirited your performance, you still don’t have to worry about pregnancy.”

Nobody teased him now. The surviving community now encouraged condoms with a fanaticism that put his college self to shame.

He left the hospital the moment his residency period ended and entered private practice. During that time, he set his own hours, selected his patients, and earned a sizeable living, paying off his remaining loans from medical school while also managing mortgage on his brownstone and saving for his retirement fund. He might have remained on that trajectory, but Robert mentioned that Hammel’s psychiatrist was retiring at the end of the year, and that they needed a dedicated replacement.

Sean credited Robert specifically and Hammel more generally with saving his sanity. It seemed the perfect opportunity to pay forward those experiences to another generation while paying back those responsible for the functional adult he had become. He applied for the position.

They hired him, and he moved back to Vermont. A decade and a half had passed since he had last lived there, and while the same provincial landscape remained, and many of his former teachers were still with the school, there was a shift. More students and some greater diversity, increasingly liberal politics (which suited him well), and a push towards modernity otherwise absent in some of the more rural areas. The snowstorms were as cold, frequent, and heavy as he remembered. Housing prices remained laughably affordable compared with the increasing rents and prices of the City, and he bought a house at the end of a cul-de-sac in Lakeview. After fifteen years of prompt and reasonable payments, he owned it free and clear. His original intent had been to raise a family there, but life didn't quite follow the path that he'd expected.

He’s worked as the psychiatrist at Hammel since 1990, and the impending 30th anniversary of his employment looms on the horizon. It's incredible to him, how much life has changed over those three decades while maintaining the foundation. For more than 29 years, he's met with students to offer advice about their family situations, their mental health, peer pressure, or to guide them in their futures. He's given The Talk every year since first being recruited for it, and the frustration has largely melted away as it became something of an institution. He's served as the lower-tier disciplinarian, doling out essays and gardening work to students for more minor infractions. He's attended countless staff meetings in that time. He's acted as the adviser to the Student Activities Council and the Peer Mediators, which suit his interests, temperament, and training better than coaching a sport. And he seen three Headmasters/Headmistresses come and go.

In that way, he was both the logical, and yet an unexpected, choice to serve as the acting Headmaster upon the retirement of their most recent. She held the position for eight years and stepped down at graduation 2019. The Board of Trustees notified him that he was their first choice to hold the fort while they searched for a more permanent replacement. He accepted, what else could he do?

His personal life followed a rockier road, with far less consistency than the steadiness of decades of employment, but he has no complaints. In fact, he couldn’t be happier.

For years, decades after the Break Up, he refused to give up hope for finding love and starting a family. Yet his relationships never worked out. He maintained friendships with nearly all of his exes, but men or women, meta-human or baseline, New York or Vermont, no matter their age or their job or their religion or their cultural background, they always fell through. And when both were single, he found himself propelled back to Josh, into his best friend’s bed aided by familiarity, alcohol, and the embers that never quite cooled. They never discussed it, each worried that the other viewed these interludes as a series of mistakes rather than indicative of something more.

There were tragedies during this time. Estrangement from his sister and the passing of his mentor in the earlier part of the decade. His father’s death and then his mother’s at the end of it. He grieved each time, coping as well as he could while leaning on friends and loved ones.

Then, in 2010, Josh left his law firm in Manhattan and moved to Pilot Ridge, while his parents moved into a retirement community with services for Alzheimer’s and other forms of dementia. Residing in the same town again, after relegating their friendship to visits back and forth, interspersed with hours-long telephone calls, emails, and letters, was a delight, immediately undercut by the dangerous occurrences plaguing their community. When Josh was assaulted that summer, Sean insisted that the other man move in with him throughout the months of his recovery.

Still, they avoided the topic of what anything meant. They were best friends, and while Sean couldn’t conceive of leaving Josh to suffer alone, he didn’t want to rock the boat.

The boat was flipped upside down the following summer, in the form of a series of misunderstandings followed by an explosive argument. To reconcile, they cleared the air, and in the course of a meandering drive that led to Boston, they spilled their feelings, sharing thoughts and desires not spoken of aloud for any of the 25 years that had passed since their Break Up. By the time they returned to Vermont in the wee hours of the night, they had saved their friendship and rekindled their romance.

Josh moved into that giant house at the end of the cul-de-sac soon after, and they’ve been together ever since, recently celebrating their eighth anniversary. Not quite the same as celebrating what would have been their 41st, but Sean never loses site of his gratitude to be together again in any capacity.

With Donald Trump’s election, two aspects of their lives changed markedly. First, the avowal by Republicans to roll back gains for the LGBT community brought Sean to propose in the most pragmatic and least romantic way imaginable. They were wed in 2017 at the courthouse, witnessed by their closest friend from college and celebrated in a reception held some time later.

Then, in 2018, Pilot Ridge did something remarkable. To repudiate the Trump era and as part of the Blue Wave, they elected as mayor the most liberal person they could conceive of.

Josh was sworn in January of 2019, and despite holding the office for the better part of a year, it remains something of an adjustment.

Once upon a time, they were two young college students in love, with big dreams of changing the world while sharing a small apartment in the Village. Now they’re Pilot Ridge’s unlikely power couple, happily married in their big house at the end of the cul-de-sac in Lakeview and a boat on the lake where they sail during the warmer months.

Player Information

Name: Sean
Age: I am the alpha and the omega.
Player Pronouns: He/Him/His

How Did You Find Us? I am the admin.
Other Characters: N/A