#fuck holy water get chemo

[jaiel]

As someone who majors in bio.

Are vampires really dead?

Considering the fact they eat, have brain activity, talk, move, hunt, excrete, reproduce (in some cases) and assumingely an active heart. They don’t meet the definition of death. Also the fact that they can be killed. Maybe life in a different form we aren’t used to but certainly not death (metabolic equilibrium).

I THINK I FIGURED OUT VAMPRISM.

I think vampirism is infectious cancer. HEAR ME OUT. We taking a trip to Tasmania.

So the Tasmanian devil population is currently being threatened because they’re experiencing large amounts of cancerous tumors on faces. Setting the basis that cancer can in fact be infectious. How is it spreading you may ask? THROUGH BITING. Tasmanian devils bite each other during mating rituals. I know some of y’all can relate. This spreads the cancer which is causing death. Okay now that we established that.

(We also know viruses can cause cancer. So this could be a virus that spreads to all the cells in the body and causes mass cancer. )

Cancer is not only transferrable but through the method of BITING.

Now for immortality. Cancer is known for its ability to self reproduce without limits. The only cells we know with few exceptions to have immortality are Cancer cells. In the case of the famous HeLa cells. (Give her family reparations!) These cells have are cancerous and have a mutation that allows them to reproduce indefinitely under proper conditions.

So we established immortality.

Blood drinking comes from thr fact that cancer cells need large quantities of nutrient because of their out of control reproduction. I’m the body tumors often create their own blood supplies and choke the surrounding cells. Soooooo vampire instead get their needs met from external sources.

We know cancer can be controlled because deers antlers are really just a very controlled form of bone cancer that allows them to grow rapidly and not effect the deer negatively. However we can see the disastrous effects that happen when it does lose control.

So vampires have a form of transmissible cancer. That gives them enhanced abilities. The safe guards that are naturally on human cells aren’t there. Like how a mother can lift a car when stressed to save her kid but otherwise no because she will injure herself. However since they can heal they don’t have to deal with the backlash of using such strength. Their cells are immortal and can replicate fast enough to repair damages. They use blood to get their metabolic needs met. Vampires are still humans which is why they can reproduce with humans. However the “hybrids” just have a mutated strands of the cancer.

Vampires are known for being pretty and so many abilities because their cells are alive forever and constantly replicating. Making more and more mutations. Only the best hunters and mutations get to pass on. The vampires that couldn’t control the cancer turned grotesque and couldn’t hunt or keep up with their nutrient demands and died.

Vampires put their bodies in a state of topur when sleeping or relaxed so they use less energy. Which is another reason they don’t go out during the day. The vampires with the tighter immune system restrictions on their cancer are more successful.

vampire who’s married to an archaeologist voice: my love, stop trying to carbon date me

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

chapter 16.

i woke up the next morning with the pain in my head finally hitting me. I groaned quietly. my back was pressed into johnnie as his arms were wrapped around me. I looked back to see if he was asleep, and he was, but the pain was unbearable. as much as I'd love to stay in bed with him, I couldn't. I slipped out of his arms and ran to the bathroom. I scrounged through the cabinets to find some sort of pain medication. I found ibprofien and quickly took it, desperate for the throbbing in my head to end.

"God damn drug addict." jakes raspy morning voice commented from behind me, making me jump.

"Holy fuck, it's ibprofien." I retorted, placing my hand over my racing heart.

"mhm." he replied sassily before wondering off somewhere else.

it was quiet in their house, almost too quiet. even though I enjoyed it, the silence nearly hurt my ears. I leaned into the mirror, spreading apart my hair so the stitches were visible. they were dark and ugly, making me cringe to see myself like this. I groaned quietly, rubbing my temples as I made my way back to Johnnie's room.

Johnnie was still tangled in the blanket we shared. His arm was rested over his forehead while the other was over his stomach, and his legs spread apart. I smiled softly and crawled back in next to him, not bothering pulling the covers over myself as I went on my phone. I clicked on Johnnie's Instagram and began to scroll through his posts. The majority of them were covers of songs that I knew and loved, which shocked me. I clicked on one and turned up the volume slightly.

"Now, turn away." he sang softly, "if you could get me a drink of water cause my lips are chapped and faded."

he looked off into the distance, his hair covering his eyes ominously. my heart fluttered, hearing his voice. I glanced towards him to make sure he was still sleeping and kept listening.

"Call my aunt Marie, help her gather all my things, and bury me in all my favorite colors. my sisters and my brothers, still." he went an octive down, "I will not kiss you. cause the hardest part of this is leaving you."

he emphasized his words, making his tone sound desperate and needy. It was a gut-wrenching cover of Cancer by My Chemical Romance. he continued to play the guitar, taking a break from singing before starting again.

"now, turn away. cause in awful just to see, cause all my hairs abandoned all my body, all my agony." he sang deeper once more, "know that I will never marry, baby, I'm just soggy from the chemo. were cou-" the recording cut off at that, making me put down my phone. I glanced towards johnnie, assuming he was still sleeping, yet I ended up making eye contact with him.

"shit," I jumped. "Morning."

"Hi." he smirked. "What was that?"

"Uh, your video just- popped up on my feed." I stuttered, trying to mask the clear embarrassment.

"So? did you like the cover?" he joked, propping his head up in his hand. I glanced over him, looking at his shirtless torso before making eye contact with him once more.

"Yeah, it was good." I said nonchalantly. I shrugged and sat up. I looked around his room before my eye landed on his guitar. "You should play something for me."

he smiled, seemingly excited that I want him to play for me. "what song?"

I pondered for a moment. "I can't really think of a song I specifically want you to play. Just play the first thing that comes to mind." i stretched and laid back down as he walked over to his acoustic guitar.

he messed with a couple chords before he began to play, strumming the strings as he skillfully moved his fingers across the fret board. he began to sing softly, "with your feet on the air and your head on the ground,"

my heart ached as his voice making my stomach turn. he had a sincere look on his face as he stared down at his strumming hand. i shut my eyes for a moment, listening to him sing.

"try this trick and spin it," his angelic voice rang throughout the room. "your head will collapse if there's nothing in it and you'll ask yourself, 'where is my mind?'" he looked up, making eye contact with me as he finished up the section of the song. "where is my mind?"

i smiled softly, asking him to play more. he agreed and played two more songs for me. he made me feel so special as i was getting my own personal concert. he looked up at me after finishing his last song, moving his guitar off of his lap. silence filled the room as he waited for me to speak up. "you genuinely have one of the best voices i've ver heard." i cringed at myself, the word vomit was embarrassing.

a grin grew on his face as well as a light pink blush. "thank you. uh, what are your plans for today?" he stuttered, scratching his neck.

"i was just going to rest and help you and Jake around the house. my head still really hurts." i set my hands in my lap.

"you don't need to worry about helping around the house." he shook his head.

"well, i'm staying with you for who knows how long. i'm not just going to sit back while you two do all the house work. it's not fair." i explain.

"i mean, if you really want to. i'm just saying me and jake got it." he shrugged. "when are you planning to go back to work?"

"i can't really take time off. you know i work alone, nobody else is on that shift usually. i have to call one of the weekend people to fill in. speaking of, i should probably do that now." i picked up my phone and began typing.

"it doesn't really seem healthy to be the only one working night shift, that's a lot on you. you should find someone to work with you." he said, concerned.

"i guess i could." i shrug him off. i paused to think! "thank you for everything, johnnie."

he furrowed his eyebrows. "what are you thanking me for?"

"helping me with all of this, and making my nights a lot less boring."

he grinned, "don't thank me for that. it's all good." he sat on the bed next to me, our knees grazing eachother. "do you want to watch a movie or something?"

i quickly nodded, "yeah, that sounds good. gives me a chance to rest my head a little more." his eyes fill with worry as he looks at the stitches. "don't look, they look disgusting." i complain, looking away as i cover my head.

johnnie moved my hand down, "you're fine, they look fine. don't worry, y/n."

i nodded, my heart racing as we made eye contact. he kept his hand rested on mine, glancing between my lips and my eyes. i melted under his touch, giving into my strong feelings. his hand cupped my cheek as he began to lean in.

"Johnnie! y/n!!" jake called, knocking before opening the door. johnnies lips were nearly touching mine as we both pulled away, startled by jake. he jangled the keys in his hand, "let's go get your car."

i nodded, "o-okay." i stood up quickly and slipped on my shoes, tension rising between me and johnnie as we made our way out to the car.

[scullydubois]

Only the Light: Ch. 21

21/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: mid-s3 (canon-divergent) | T | 4.8k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic 

Hello, here is my ‘I didn’t plan for updates to take two weeks, but it always works out to two weeks’ post, right on time. Almost finished with this journey, thank you for sticking around <3

As Mulder helps care for his ill partner and her child, he enlists the Lone Gunmen to investigate the circumstances surrounding Scully's diagnosis. He and Melissa pay a visit to the three men, then Mulder gets an unwanted surprise back at apartment 42.

-------------------

As Scully’s world has shrunk, the amount of love in it has grown. This is small consolation for the hell she’s enduring, but it is the only antidote. She realizes this now that she’s staring down the abyss: all the knowledge in the world won’t save you, and wealth is nothing but a false comfort. What will live on are the parts of herself she’s left with others. Her goal for her remaining time, however long that may be, is to hold tight to those she loves...not to slip away until her heart stops beating.

This is hard when she already feels like less of herself. She’s doing chemo twice a week at Georgetown, and it’s brutal. She knew it would be...her only other choice is to get that gravestone of hers re-engraved. 

Meanwhile, Mulder pushed all other work aside to get in contact with the Mufon women. It only took him one day to do so, but Scully doesn’t know that, and for now, she doesn’t need to know. He’s keeping what he’s learned so far to himself...Betsy Hagopian is dead and has been since shortly after Scully saw her. Penny Northern is sick and not responding to treatment. A handful of other women, abductees like Scully, have developed rare cancers too.

It’s not something he knows how to talk about, such despondency. His world has always hinged on hope. That’s what his work on the X-Files is to him, one big leap of faith toward his sister. Or was, before Scully came along. It’s not that she diverted him from Samantha...no, she turned a very personal quest into something larger than him. Or her, or any one person they worked with. She pared it down to its core value, its overarching mission: the truth. Because the truth may hurt at first, but given time, it heals. And it is the only path to healing. This is what he’s learned from her. And now, he’s got to do everything he can to pass the revitalized world she’s shown him onto her. 

The arrangement falls into place without any friction: Missy handles the chemo run on Monday mornings, and Mulder leaves work early on Thursdays. Emily spends Mondays with her grandma, and Thursdays too when Missy works the night shift. 

Thursdays become something of a spiritual day for Mulder. The hours of approximately 3-10pm are spent doting on his partner--in her apartment, and then his car, then the hospital and his car again, and finally, back to her apartment. Mama Scully brings Emily back around eight, and if Missy’s not home, Mulder gets the honor of the bedtime ritual. The domesticity of it all tethers him to reality, maybe for the first time in his life. He’d give anything to change the circumstances, but it’s humbling to feel--for once--that he belongs on Earth. 

It is on one of these Thursday evenings that Mulder could swear he feels his whole life trailing behind him, leading him to the present. The end of the year is creeping up in its usual fashion, which means the outside world is a blanket of darkness before the stoves of countless suburban homes have even been started. Having settled her comfortably into bed with a pile of pillows, Mulder carries his partner a glass of water and pulls the wastebasket to her side; this is their routine now. 

“You doing okay?” he asks, lingering as she takes a sip of water. It will soon be time to make himself scarce so she can sleep.

She nods, gurgles a garbled affirmation. Mulder turns to go, and her heart leaps to her throat. “Will you stay?” she spews, embarrassed by her need. 

“Of course.” She’s unaware, apparently, that when he leaves it’s for her, not him. He approaches her bedside, lowers himself carefully beside her knees. “Any particular reason?” he murmurs, examining the sunken spaces beneath her eyes.

“I just...wanted to talk to you,” she says, and Mulder thinks there might be a bit more color in her cheeks than there was yesterday.

“Okay.” He leans in and sweeps a strand of hair off her forehead so lightly that Scully doesn’t even feel it. She’s apprehensive about being touched these days, and he has taken this knowledge to heart. She is grateful, and to show the extent of this feeling, she strokes his hand, allows him to take hers in his. He runs his thumb over each finger as they continue. 

He wants to ask what she’s thinking about, what it is that has so graciously extended his stay in this room. But he knows that she’ll get to it, that she has nothing to keep from him now. 

There’s a sincere serenity on her face that he’s never seen. And after a minute or two, she begins. “I didn’t think it could happen--and it certainly doesn’t make much sense-- but right now, I am happier than I have ever been.”

A string on Mulder’s heart, tightened to its prime, bursts without warning. 

She caresses the back of his head. “It’s so trivial, Mulder. So much of what we call life isn’t living at all. Or at least not the important kind.”

He lifts his gaze, eye contact conveying more than he could with words.

“But I’ve thought about the parts of my life that are living, and all of them, in some way, come back to you.”

Mulder shakes his head, feeling too flattered. “That’s not true…”

“You can believe whatever you need to,” she whispers, “but it is the truth, and I am eternally grateful that you happened to me.”

He tries to cough away some tears, which works about a quarter as well as he hoped it would. “Hold on, little lady.” He pats her hand in response to her smile. “I think you happened to me.”

Scully’s chest flutters in laughter. “Did I?” These subtle things have always been so important to them. 

“You walked into my office, remember.”

“Well, I guess it would depend on who changed the most due to the other’s influence then,” she reasons. 

Mulder just gives her a look. 

She smirks. “Okay, so maybe I happened to you, but you…” she chews her lip, and this could be any other day of any other year if she weren’t bedridden. She picks out her words-- “You completed me.”

Mulder spills forward, finding his footing and spinning into the middle of the room. “Holy fuck Scully, are you trying to kill me?”

“We’ve been searching for the truth. That’s the truth, Mulder. I wanted you to know.”

He sets his jaw. He won’t burst into tears in front of her, not when she has all the reason to cry and yet has been so strong. 

“You should get some sleep,” he tells her, hoping to expedite his exit from the room. 

“I will. And it’s okay to be sad, but not for me. My life is as whole as ever.”

He nods, though he doesn’t agree (what’s new?). He knew Samantha for eight years and has been sad for twenty. He’s known Scully for half that--so he gets at least a decade of mourning. 

“Sweet dreams,” he says, resting his hands on the door frame. “I’ll bring Emily in when she gets here.”

“Okay.” She closes her eyes, smiles. “Love you.”

“Love you too, DKS.” He blows a kiss and slips out, heat flooding to his face. This is the first time she’s said that unprompted, and is that what the threat of imminent death does to you? Pries you open? 

He wonders. Whose love is saving who?

-------------------------

The primetime line-up is flickering over the television when Mama Scully arrives with Emily, passing her granddaughter to Mulder like the family heirloom she is. They exchange a few words in short breaths, reserving the air supply for their dear Dana. Mama Scully agrees to come see her daughter this weekend rather than interrupt her much-needed rest now, and Mulder is suddenly single parent-slash-babysitter; the specifics elude him. 

Perfumed with baby powder from her grandmother’s overly enthusiastic hand, Mulder concludes that Em needs neither bathing nor changing. She doesn’t seem very keen on sleep either, seeing as how her little voice keeps calling out Moldy! and her little fists clobber his shoulders. Still, he will keep his promise. He carries her into the room she shares with her mother, stepping lightly lest the floorboards creak. 

As he circles the bed to lay the child beside her sleeping mother, he winces at the mess in the trash can. Good thing he moved it into place though Scully had seemed okay. He hadn’t heard any retching, and it saddens him that he wasn’t there to hold her hair back. He settles Em into place, makes a mental note to rinse the can on his way out. 

Her characteristically light sleep lightened further by her illness, Scully stirs from the shift of Emily’s weight against the mattress. She rolls toward the free side and flutters her eyelids open. Her smile is reflexive. 

“Hello baby girl,” she purrs. She lays a hand against her daughter’s polka-dotted onesie. “Did you have a good day with Grandma?”

Emily answers with some fluttery babbling and gropes for her mother’s nose. 

“I don’t think she’s very tired,” Mulder remarks, hands in his pockets. He smirks. “We should really find out what your mother feeds her.”

Scully pulls her lips into a grin, exhibiting a great deal more effort than she did just moments before. She blinks, rubs her eyes, and seems to go out of the world for a second. Then she sets her gaze on Mulder and speaks dreamily--”Will you tell us a bedtime story?”

“Oh!” Mulder scratches his chin, having expected his dismissal. “Do you think that would help…?”

Scully presses her head into the pillow. “I’m not gonna be able to fall back asleep until she does.”

That is a yes, served with some condescension.  

“Okay, well, let me think.” He perches on the side of the bed. “Regrettably, I did not get my degree in bedtime stories.”

“Just say what you know,” Scully mumbles. “We’re the only ones listening, and the goal is to put us to sleep.”

“I hope that’s not a comment on my conversational skills,” he teases, smoothing the sheets. 

Again, there’s a look of otherworldliness from his partner. She is somewhere else.

“Go on, tell us a story,” she hums, her surprising lack of impatience attributable to an equal lack of wakefulness. 

“Let’s see…” He stretches out, perching on his elbow by Scully’s feet like she did in the first motel they ever stayed in. Emily sits herself up and grasps for him. He laughs, lets her latch onto his fingers.

“There once was a little girl who loved horses and bugging her brother,” he begins. “Now, I’m sure she sounds like just about any little girl out there, but I promise, she was as unique as they come.” 

Scully closes her eyes and tilts her head back to listen.

“She always said she wanted to be a butterfly when she grew up so she could spread her wings and fly. And her parents would scoff and tell her that would never be possible, but she believed. She believed it would happen.”

Emily babbles along, adding her own colorful commentary. 

“I know, I know right?” Mulder muses to the little girl. “The parents were such jerks.”

He tickles Em’s stomach, then remembers that he’s supposed to be helping her go to sleep. He kisses her temple and begins stroking her knee, hoping to achieve a hypnotic rhythm. 

“And so one day, this little girl...well, this little girl got to go on an adventure. She left behind her house and her family, and she got to go up to the sky and see the stars, and it was everything she wished for.”

Scully opens her eyes slowly. Mulder’s focus is centered on Emily, who stares up at him with the awe of a museum-goer seeing the Starry Night. It is as if they are the only two in the room, and this gives Scully great comfort, for she can imagine them having a life after she is gone.

“The girl’s family was sad because they didn’t know where she went. The girl’s brother missed her the most, but it was okay because the girl was happy. She got to fly through the sky like a bird or a plane, and she achieved the dream that her parents thought would never come true.”

Em’s breathing begins to slow into sleep. And thank god, cause he’s running out of story to tell.

“Lay down, little girl.” He guides her onto her back so she can drift off without difficulty, then clears his throat softly. 

“Some say that if you see a light in the night sky, that’s this little girl, floating among the stars, living her dream. And her brother, well, he’s pretty fond of that thought. He just wants her to be happy.”

Silence falls over the room like a throbbing sensation of unknown origin. Emily’s eyelids struggle between open and closed, and Mulder knows she will soon be out. Scully’s baby blues, meanwhile, peer at him with such unflinching intensity that he suspects she has fallen asleep like that. It is haunting, but it becomes much less so when she blinks and he realizes that she’s looking at him, that she heard the whole story.

“Is that what you wanted?” he whispers, half expecting her not to answer.

“It was beautiful, Mulder. Samantha lives on.”

He smiles from his eyes...oh, of course it was obvious, his little tribute to his sister. Scully said to work from what he knew, and this myth is something he’s used to keep himself going since his family realized that there would be no happy reunion with Sam. He’s happy to share his fantasy; such escapes are needed now.

----------------------

Melissa’s heart leaps when she opens the apartment door to an empty living room. The TV drones out its slapstick laugh track, contributing to the ominous atmosphere. She’d expect to see Mulder taking up a restless refuge on the couch, or maybe sneaking a late night snack to Em. Her sister should be fast asleep by now, her little world able to slacken its hold on her. Unless she is no longer afforded such luxury…

Missy rushes toward Dana’s bedroom, her purse still on her shoulder. In the doorway she slows as her eyes adjust to the lack of light. And thank goodness because three silhouettes catch her eye; a medium one buried under the covers, a large one strewn diagonally across the bed, and a small bump barely visible on the far side. A snore of unidentifiable origin is the only disturbance. Missy smiles to herself. All the missing persons are accounted for and well. She can continue with the blissfully bland routine of her night. 

She washes her face and brews some chamomile before settling on the couch with the week’s issues of Mad Magazine and Vogue. Yes, she contains multitudes. She’s up to the Spy vs. Spy comic when Mulder strolls in, yawning. 

“I guess my bedtime story was effective.”

“Mmm.” Missy scoots her mug over so he can prop his feet up. Dana hates feet on furniture, but she’s got a child in the house now, so she’ll have to let go of those judgments. “How is she?”

“Oh shit.” She’s jogged something in his memory. “I meant to grab the trash can on the way out.”

Missy knows what this means. “I’ll get it in a second.”

Mulder nods in silent gratitude, relaxes back into his spot. “She seemed livelier than usual when we got home.”

 It hits him that he said home, not back. And well, it is Scully’s home. What about him? He sleeps on the couch and he doesn’t pay rent...that’s how he lived at Oxford, though he gets the feeling that it’s not as evergreen at thirty-three years old. 

These days, he only goes to his place on Sunday nights to get (what he considers) a week’s worth of clothing--two work outfits (hey, he never really sees anyone but Scully anyway) and one casual outfit that doubles as pajamas. He bought a bunch of fish feeding tablets so all he has to do is drop a few in on Sunday and the fish are set for the week. As far as he can tell, at least. None of them have floated to the top of the tank yet.

“And Em is all good?” Missy confirms.

Mulder nods. “Your mom takes good care of her.”

“I think I know the answer to this, but do you want some tea?” Missy asks, flashing her mug.

“No, no, save it for yourself.”

“Alright.” She flips a page in her magazine. “Just let me know when you’re ready to kick me out. Since I’m kind of in your bed and all.”

“I should be telling you that,” Mulder counters. “You don’t mind me staying here, do you?”

“Not at all.” Missy lays the magazine on the table. “It’s important that you’re around.”

“Really?...For what?”

“For who,” Missy corrects. “Emily needs you to give her balance, and Dana...she just needs you. You’re the safety net under her tightrope.”

“Oh.” This metaphor grounds Mulder better than gravity ever has.

Missy seems to sense this and takes the opportunity to profit off his vulnerability. “So what’s gone on between you?” she asks, an eyebrow arched.

Mulder squints at her. “Huh?”

“I keep waiting for Dana to kick you out or get irritated about you being around all the time,” Missy says with honest simplicity. “But instead, she lets you take her to chemo and fall asleep in her bed…”

“Well, I think the former is more ideal than the alternative, which is that I watch her child,” Mulder replies. “And I fell asleep on the bed, not in it.”

“Okay.” Missy sips her tea, keeps her eyes on him. 

It’s pointless for Mulder to try to keep secrets anymore. He wrings out his hands. “If you must know, when you dropped her off at my apartment after her appointment, we... came to a mutual understanding.”

“Ah.” Missy is not surprised by any of it. Of course it happened. Of course her sister hasn’t mentioned it. 

“Why are you just asking about this now?”

“Cause I expected my suspicions to be proven wrong, and that hasn’t happened.”

Mulder nods, taps absentmindedly on his knee. “Actually, I have something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” She’s intrigued. The enigmatic Fox Mulder, divulging on his own accord. 

“Don’t get excited, it’s not good.” 

Damn. Missy reels herself in. “About Dana?”

“About what happened to her or...what is happening to her. It’s about the Mufon women.”

Missy curls her legs beneath herself. “You reached them?” 

He nods. “Well, Penny Northern’s hospice nurse picked up when I called. She’s got stage four tumors throughout her body that migrated from her nasopharynx.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah. Apparently most of the other abductees have cancer too. And Betsy Hagopian--the woman who Scully saw in the hospital last spring--is dead.”

Missy’s gaze drops to the floor. “So the invasive procedures that the abductors did are killing these women.”

“One doctor’s treating them all--he’s supposed to be a specialist--but it doesn’t look like he’s having much success.” Mulder pauses, his mouth partially open.

“What?” Missy presses.

“The Lone Gunmen and I have been looking into him, and we think that he might have been involved in the abductions.”

Missy barrels forward. “You think he did this to them on purpose and now he’s letting them die?”

Mulder nods solemnly. 

“Well, we have to stop him. We can’t let any more patients go to him, especially Dana…”

“I know. I’m going down to see the Lone Gunmen tomorrow after work if you want to join me.”

Missy contemplates. “I have the lunch shift tomorrow, so I could. What would we tell Dana?”

“I’ll say that Skinner is keeping me late to go over some paperwork. You could say whatever, she’s not going to question you.”

“I hate to leave her alone for so long, but...yeah, we have to do this.” She leans back, takes another look at Mulder. “You might just save a lot of women, you know.”

------------------------

Missy feels unseen eyes bore into her as she and Mulder approach the basement entrance of a helter-skelter building. She doesn’t recognize the part of town they’re in, and she doesn’t ask. 

Mulder hits the button on a call box beside the door. Before he can speak, a voice leaps out at them.

“Howdy Mulderoony.” Mulder recognizes it as Frohike’s voice. “Glad to see you made it safely.”

A variety of locks and chains are undone, the door pulled open. 

“Join our ménage a trois,” Frohike says, ushering them in. 

“We can’t stay long,” Mulder tells them, squinting as he adjusts to the darkness of their realm. “You guys forget to pay the electric bill or something?”

“We’re conserving electricity,” Byers says, a shadow in the corner of the room. “It’s good for the environment.”

“I didn’t realize the environment was on your list of concerns.”

“It should be on everyone’s list of concerns,” Byers throws back matter-of-factly. 

Mulder slides his hands into his pockets. “Touché.” 

Ringo comes forward from the darkness, his hair as tressed and greasy as ever. “Well lookie here. Dana Scully in the flesh.”

Frohike inserts himself between them. “You can’t be serious, pool boy. That’s not her, I’d know her anywhere. It is, however, an equally lovely woman.” He takes Missy’s hand and kisses it. “My lady.”

Missy participates with amusement until Mulder brushes Frohike aside.

“Okay boys, lay off. This is Scully’s sister Melissa. And I believe she’s taken.”

Frohike bows. “A lucky man.”

“Woman,” Missy corrects.

“Oh. Excusez-moi."

Tucked in the darkness, Byers scoffs at the childish antics. “Come on, let’s cut to the chase. Lives are at stake.”

“I’m glad to see someone has a brain around here,” Mulder quips. 

Ringo pats Mulder’s shoulder. “Not all of us got a full-ride to Oxford, but hey, I’d say we’ve done pretty well for ourselves.”

“Calm down, Ringo. You’d still be the smartest member of the Ramones.” 

Like an unleashed dog, Ringo lunges forward, and Byers and Frohike pull him back. They are quite used to this. 

“You can insult me, but never speak ill of the Ramones!” Ringo growls. 

Mulder puts his hands up, smirks at the permission he’s been given. “Happily.”

Missy clears her throat, her amusement wearing thin. She’s like her sister in this way.

Mulder gets the memo. “Right. Can the trash talk, we’re here to catch a criminal.”

“If he is, in fact, a criminal,” Byers remarks.

Missy frowns. “Haven’t you proved that?”

“We’re connecting the dots, but we haven’t completed the picture yet,” Byers replies. 

Mulder circles around to Byers’ monitor. “What have you got?”

“This doctor, Scanlon, isn’t just an oncologist,” Ringo begins, as if Mulder asked him. “His name is associated with the Lombard Research Facility.”

Mulder and Missy both give him a look. More, more!

“A high security medical research center in Allentown,” he clarifies. 

“We’ve hacked into some of the security cameras,” Frohike tells them. “We’d have to get in to see for ourselves, but the activity is rather suspicious. The same men, in and out, at odd times. Whatever they’re storing in there, it’s significant.”

“Then let’s get in,” Mulder emphasizes. “You be the eyes and ears, I’ll be the legs.”

Ringo nods. “We’re working on it.”

“We need to observe their weekend patterns before we make any moves,” Byers insists. “We don’t set up our missions to fail.”

“Fine, but as soon as you’ve reached your confidence threshold--”

“We’ll call you,” Ringo promises.

“What are you expecting to find?” Missy asks, frenzied. “Will it help Dana?”

Frohike drums his fingers on the desk. “That’s the plan.”

Byers nods. “We can’t be sure exactly what we’ll find, but the connection is clear: Scanlon was involved with the abductions, and he’s exploiting these women for his own benefit.”

Melissa shivers involuntarily. “It’s amazing that you’ve figured this out.”

Ringo twirls a pencil through his hair. “We have a lot of free time on our hands.”

Mulder takes a shot at the mini-basketball hoop they have, misses. “And you’d better use it all to implicate Dr. Scanlon’s ass.”

Frohike does a two-finger salute. “Aye aye captain.”

Mulder thumbs toward the door. “Now we’ve gotta get out of here before the smell sticks to us. Scully will know exactly where we’ve been,” he smirks.

“Can’t argue with that.” Frohike shows them to the door. “Give the lady my regards.”

“Will do.” He turns back, exchanges a serious glance with each man. “Sort this out, boys.”

Just as quickly as they came, he and Melissa step out of the chambers and ascend back into the sun’s dominion. Entrusting those three with the well-being of a woman they love so much is far from ideal, and yet, they’re throwing all their faith into it.

---------------------------

Mulder slides his key into the door of apartment 42 shortly after seven on Sunday evening. He hasn’t been in for a week, and yet a vivid scent of...smoke sticks about the place. And a wrinkled mess of a man to go with it.

The old man lifts his chin. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Mulder is no longer naïve enough to be taken aback by Cancer Man’s ambush. He shrugs and slides his coat off. “Well, you are in my apartment.”

“I’ve heard that your partner is very sick,” CSM says, his steps so clunky that Mulder wonders whether the downstairs tenants will complain. 

“What grapevine did you get that from?...Or are you the one growing the grapes?”

“It saddened me to hear. Agent Scully is a valuable member of the Bureau.”

Mulder nods. “You here to pass on your condolences? Cause I’m pretty sure you could just send a card.”

“I’m here to propose a solution...The doctors say your partner’s sickness is incurable. This is not true.”

“Smarter than the doctors, are you?”

“In this case I am.”

A bitter laugh rises from Mulder. “So I’m supposed to believe that you were involved in sickening Scully, yet you want to save her?”

“We all have our regrets.”

“And I have no reason to trust you.”

“Upon learning about her child, I feel a deep need to intervene.”

“Mmm.” Mulder begins to pace. “And by learning about her child, do you mean when Scully’s ova were removed and fertilized without her knowledge? Because I have a hard time believing that you didn’t know a thing about Emily until Scully got custody.”

“Certainly I did not foresee Emily ending up in her mother’s custody.”

“What was the purpose then, of Emily? To terrorize a woman by taking away her bodily autonomy?”

CSM shrugs. “That’s not my area.”

Mulder scoffs. “Okay you old freak. Tell me how to save Scully’s life or get the hell out of here.”

The wrinkled man folds his hands. “She had a silicone implant removed from her neck. Put it back in.”

Mulder freezes. “Are you serious? That’s your miracle cure?”

CSM nods. “It is the only way to save her life. Removing the implant is what caused the cancer in the first place.”

Mulder steps forward, getting in the old man’s face like a middle-school bully. He’s ready to throw a punch--honestly, ready to kill the man--if need be. He could do it. Easily. He could.

“What does the implant do, Cancer Man?”

“Believe it or not, it is meant as a sort of inoculation. It offsets the negative effects of any tests performed during the...time away.”

“Uh-huh, and what do you get from it?”

“Who says I get anything from it?”

“How else would you know that she had it removed?”

“I am everywhere, Agent Mulder.”

Mulder loses his thinly-veiled calm, wraps his hand around the man’s saggy neck. “You fucking pervert, I’ll kill you! I’ve killed a man before just like this. Tell me the truth.”

“This is the truth,” CSM wheezes, not intimidated by his rapidly deteriorating air flow. His cold, hard eyes stare into Mulder’s. “You wouldn’t kill a man over nothing, would you?”

Mulder squeezes harder, his fingers gripping the man’s pulse. He watches the light drain from his victim’s eyes. All the old bastard does is smirk at him. 

Angered by this more than anything, Mulder releases the man so suddenly that his bony body is thrown into the wall. He keeps his footing, stumbles forward.

“Get out,” Mulder growls. When he doesn’t respond, Mulder pokes his finger at the door. “Get out now!”

CSM dusts himself off and walks out, the pompous smirk never leaving his face. Mulder slams the door shut behind him. 

There are certain truths he cannot escape. If Scully has made him believe in Heaven, CSM has made him believe in Hell.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #272

“i don’t care what you have to say - it makes no difference / it’s all because of you, we’re fuckin’ infamous.”

How many children are in your family? I have a big extended family, so uh... and what is the age cutoff for "children?" My simplest answer is three, that being my older sister's kids, but I do have a half-sister with some young-ish children, but I know none of them. Oh, and my other half-sister has kids too, but again, they're not that young, and the youngest son I've never met. What is something you and your parents used to argue over often? Money. What was your first word? "Dada." A fast food restaurant that you hate with a passion? Arby's is fucking disgusting. Give me a song that is underestimated/not well known. Probably like half of Otep's songs. "Lords of War" comes to mind first. Which one of your friends knows everything about you? Sara knows the most. Who is your favorite teacher that you have this year? N/A Have you ever solved a Rubik’s Cube? No, I don't have that kind of patience. Like I've fiddled with 'em before if they're right at my disposal and I'm just sitting and waiting or something, but I've never gotten far. Who do you think is the easiest to talk to? It depends on what I'm talking about, but probably Sara. Or Mom, idk. Do you have a favorite metal band or do you not like metal? Ozzy, of course. Metal is my favorite genre. Are you talking to anyone right now? No. What’s your favorite kind of science? Genetics. Do you walk home or take a bus? From school? Well I'm not in school anymore, but for almost the entire time I was, my mom drove me and picked me up. I only took a bus for some of Jason's junior and all of his senior year to his house afterwards. Who did you last go to the movies with? My dad, I think. If you could see anyone (dead or alive) in concert, who would you pick? I'd probably choose Metallica so long as my mom could come. She laughed/cried hysterically when she found out they were finally coming here I think two years ago, but we couldn't go. She fucking adores Metallica, maybe more than I do Ozzy. She's always said that she only needs three things in life: God, her babies, and Metallica. Who’s the cutest person you know? Define "cute." The cutest fucking thing I have EVER seen was Sara when we went to a reptile expo together; she was a kid in Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. I could not stop smiling at her, jc. "Cute" as in who I feel most fits the traditional definition, my old friend Alon. I think I'll always answer "Alon" to questions like this lmao. How about the funniest? GIRT. Oh my FUCKING god, Girt. I've had my biggest and most frequent laughs with that guy. Have you ever had acne? I sure did going through puberty. It wasn't the worst in the world, but I definitely had it. Where is your biggest scar located? I think the scar from my surgery, but I can't see it so I can't *really* tell? Look up what a pilonidal cyst is to figure out where that's at, oof. Where did your last hug take place? A hotel room. Recently, Mom, my sisters, and I saw my grandmother for probably the last time. She was with her husband and Mom's brother passing through. She's quit chemo for pancreatic cancer as now it's just become unbearable, and it's obvious she doesn't have much time left. It was... weird, seeing her in such a skin-and-bone, very frail state. We've had a rocky relationship, but I'm going to miss her regardless. What is your current desktop picture? My favorite picture of Teddy. Do you still think of that Gwen Stefani song when you spell "bananas?" HA HA yes! Do you like the way your hair naturally is, or do you change it? I love how healthy my hair is, but I'm definitely not a fan of how quickly it becomes oily. And I wish it knew how to hold some damn dye. Do you know anyone who died accidentally by doing something stupid? Not personally, but yes. How many different languages have you taken in school? First I took Latin, but I SUCKED at it, and then I took German for four semesters and loved it. If your cell phone broke, would your parents make you pay for a new one? No, considering I don't have a source of income. Are your parents still married? No. Are you in a monogamous relationship? Not currently, but I'd only go into one that's monogamous. Have you ever met your favorite band? No. Have you ever drawn on someone's face while they were sleeping? No, I'm not an asshole. Have you ever fallen down a hill? No, but I've certainly rolled down them as a kid. Would you scuba dive in shark-infested waters if you had the chance? I hate the term "shark-infested." It's where they live. But anyway, I don't think I'd swim with sharks, but maybe. What is your favorite slow song? BRO idk there's so many. Do you believe in karma? No. If there were aliens on earth, would you be afraid? It would depend on their demeanor. If your best friend died, would you be able to speak at their funeral? I'd sure as hell want to, but I'd have a hard time getting through it. Are your pets asleep? Roman is probably snoozing by the window in the living room, and Venus probably is, given she's nocturnal. Have you ever wished you were an only child? No. Have you ever hurt someone on purpose? As a kid I got in huge trouble for smacking my sister before. As an adult I haven't. What is your current favorite song? I'm pretty obsessed with NateWantsToBattle's cover of "Feel Good Inc." Is there something you do on a regular basis, that you don’t enjoy doing? Why? The person I copied this from answered "shower" and big same. Like of course I do it, but boy do I hate it. It's a chore to me and especially when I'm depressed, I'll put it off. Have you ever felt jealous of anyone else’s success? Yes. When it comes to success, I can be very envious. Never in a hateful way/wishing the person wasn't where they were at, but nevertheless, still envious. Who did you last speak to in person? Mom. Have you ever had a one-night stand? If you have, did you regret it afterwards? Never had one, don't plan to. Have you ever done something that you said you’d NEVER do? Yes. What was the last thing you asked for help with? Who did you go to for help? Uhhh... probably something from Mom, though I don't remember what. I've avoided that since she's recovering from surgery. Who was the last person to text you? Sara! If your significant other had several other sexual partners before you, how much would that bother you? Would you worry about being compared to the others? How many previous sexual partners do you think is acceptable? If they were serious relationships genuinely based on love, it wouldn't - to a degree. I have to be honest with myself and say like if my s/o had a large number of past sexual partners at our age, I'd be wary about their loyalty and dedication to one person. Idk what I'd consider "too many" exactly. For me, maybe like... six? Who was the last person of the opposite sex to send you a message on Facebook? What if you had a baby with that person? My friend Ian, and whoa buddy, we're just above acquaintances. How many people of your preferred sex have hurt you? Just one seriously. Have your friends ever talked to you about the forms of contraception they use? What form of contraception do you prefer? It's been casually mentioned, sure. I'm not sexually active so don't take any right now, but if I was, I'd be on birth control and demand condom usage because FUCK the chances of getting pregnant. If you told your parents that you were going to be a parent, how do you think they would react? I think they'd both be terrified for me. I have NO business raising a kid when I'm barely a proper adult. They'd also be confused as fuck about who the dad would be. You find out that the person you love/like is having a child with someone else. What do you say? If I found out somehow that Jason was going to be a dad, I can 100% GUARANTEE you I would faint, vomit, and have an emotional breakdown. Literally all three. I wouldn't be able to "say" anything. If I found out Sara was, I'd be pretty speechless and beyond terrified for her. When was the last time you said something and thought “Why the hell did I say that?” What exactly did you say, and who did you say it to? How did the person react? Hm. It's funny, I'm both very impulsive with what I can say if I'm upset or angry, but otherwise I seriously think twice about what's coming out of my mouth. I can't remember the last time the former happened. NO WAIT. So my chronic nightmares/terrors, right? A few days ago I woke up from one growling, "I'll break your fucking neck too, bitch," and it was to my very own mother, as she was choking me for some reason I don't remember. I was disgusted when I woke up. In these nightmares, I am SO much more aggressive than I actually am and it really scares me. It's gotten to the point that I'm genuinely scared of what I may be capable of. Who was the last person outside of family that told you they loved you? Sara. What song reminds you of your first boyfriend/girlfriend? My first real one, holy fucking shit, a lot. For where we currently stand, "Another Life" by Motionless In White haunts me. Not only is it his favorite band, but the lyrics just scream him and me. It's one of those that sometimes makes me tear up. I hate that I love that song. Outside of family, who were the last three girls you talked to? Sara, Summer, and Chelsea, I think. Outside of family, who were the last three guys you talked to? Uhhh Ian, my grandma's husband (he's not my actual grampa), and my sister's husband, probably, or nephew. Who is/was your strictest teacher in school? Mrs. P-something in 7th grade. I didn't not like her, she was just very strict. Have you ever felt so ill that you literally didn’t know what to do? Oh yeah, emotionally at least. At your part of the world, is it summer now? Yes, ew. What’s the warmest it can get over there? How about the coldest? Around 110*F; coldest, around... sub-20*F on rare days. Is there a bad habit you’re trying to break right now? I need to lay off the soda. Is it easy to find a job in your preferred field in your home town? FUCK no. Have you ever played the original Mass Effect trilogy? Nope. Have you ever made jewelry? The kiddy kinds with beads and stuff, yeah. Which app do you use the most on your phone? Umm Facebook or Dragons of Atlantis. Did you learn to play an instrument as a kid? If so, which one? In elementary school, we all learned the recorder. From middle school to my junior high school year, I played the flute. What is the best part of your most ordinary day? I don't even know anymore. If you learned that you suddenly needed an aid of some sort to do something that you normally don’t need (glasses, hearing aid, etc.) Would you comply or would you put it off until there was no choice anymore? It would definitely depend on the issue and its severity. What’s the strangest saying you’ve come across? Please tell me it's not just the South that says "it's colder than a witch's titty" lmao. Do you read any web comics? No. Which social media platform do you use the most, if any? Facebook. Which game did you play the most as a kid during recess? Does anyone remember "Four Square?" I don't even remember the rules, but my friends and I played it all the time. Are you one of those lucky people to own a walk-in closet? No, not that I need one honestly. Is there a random object you own that has a huge personal significance? I’ve told the story of my pebble from my partial hospitalization program many times. Besides that, something really random? Uhhh. There’s probably something, seeing as a lot of the things I keep mean something deep to me, but I don’t know about another truly strange one. Are you one of those people who chew two pieces of gum, not one? Usually. Do you have a wall calendar? In the kitchen. Have you ever been to Canada? No, but totally serious, I want to move there. I just realistically won’t because I don’t want to leave my family. Do you believe in superstitions? Nope. When was the last time you took a taxi somewhere? I’ve never been in a taxi. Would you ever join the army, airforce or navy? Hell no. How old is the person you last kissed? 22. What was the most embarrassing thing you've had to buy? Nothing. Have you ever mistaken a person's gender? Yes. What was the most expensive thing you've broken? I don’t know. Have you ever been in a car accident? Yes, but thankfully it wasn’t severe. Can you focus well in high-stress situations? FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK NO. Without the aid of mascara, do you have long eyelashes? Yes. I think I’ve shared before that in 9th grade, my teacher like deadass stopped her lecture just to point that out lmaoo. Is there anyone you dread going into public with? Not generally. It can sometimes happen with Dad just because he’s brutally honest and doesn’t have a filter, but it’s more like a discomfort than dread. Are you easily frightened? It depends on the situation. In most instances, yes. Do you have a favorite model? No. What's your current facebook display picture of? It’s just a headshot of me with my skull necklace and a tank top. Is there anyone whose hair you envy? Peoples’ whose actually hold color. >_> Have you ever dated someone who was extremely shy? No, I’m the shy one. Or have you dated someone who took things too fast? Yes. Do you or anyone you know have an account on Deviantart? I have one, and I know a few other people who do. Do you listen to Daughtry? Not really, except “No Surprise.” Do you get your eyebrows waxed? Not anymore. Is there a pet that you desperately want? A tarantula, preferably a Brazilian Black. I’ve gotten soooo into tarantulas, but it’s a “hell no” from Mom about having one in her house. Would you ever get your bellybutton pierced? No. My stomach isn’t “pretty” and I know it sure wouldn’t look flattering. Are you one of those people who are always pushing their limits? I wish I could say yes. Have you ever made a totally amazing snow fort? No. I didn’t have the patience for that as a kid. All we really made out of snow were snowmen and balls to throw. If you draw, what's one thing you always have trouble with? Proportions. Is there someone you know moving away any time soon? I don’t believe so. Is there a garbage can in the room you’re currently in? No. Have you ever been snorkeling? No. Who was the last person you apologized to? Mom, probably. Do you throw things when you’re frustrated? No. People who throw shit scare me. Do you prefer sharks or dolphins? Dolphins. Before meerkats, they were my favorite animal. What was the last piece of furniture you purchased? Purchased, I don’t know. A lot of what we have now is second-hand. Has anyone ever told you that you are too picky when it comes to the people you date? What about not picky enough? No one has said either. When was the last time you went to a bar? Never. What three things would you change about your life? Number one, be mentally stable. Two, my body. Three, be financially stable. Was there anything unusual or unique about your birth? There was an ice storm that Dad had to drive through lmao. What was the best conversation you’ve had recently? Man, idk. I don’t talk a lot to begin with. What is the next book you are going to read? Wings of Fire: The Dark Secret should come in the mail today!! :’) Describe the hardest decision you have ever made. I had to choose to either let Jason go or keep him in my heart until it killed me/I killed myself. I can almost 100% absolutely promise you if my life was continued how it was in 2016, I would NOOOOOOOT still be here. I think it’s pretty clear by now some scars are buried too deep to heal, seeing as he is literally faintly on my mind every day, but at least I know how to be happy without someone who didn’t believe in my strength. Why did you last see the doctor? I thought I broke my foot. Turns out I just tore a ligament, but badly. I think it’s been… one and half-two months and it’s only JUST starting to feel truly better. Day one, I couldn’t even walk. Days after, I had to have help. Then for weeks it was nothing but walking at a snail’s pace on the side of my foot. I’m so surprised it wasn’t broken. Post a recent picture of yourself. WOW what timing considering I took a picture yesterday, and I barely ever take any. I EVEN PUT MAKEUP ON!!!

[cursewoodrecap]

Session 11: Cirque Macabre

On the road from Mornheim to Bad Herzfeld, we can’t even have a day off in peace.

Good Morning Baaaaaaaltimornheim~

We wake up in Mornheim along with the Fairgolds, having crammed all six of us into one room at the overcrowded inn. We see behind the scenes into Flynn’s hair care routine. What, you think he looks this dashing naturally? He has product for his beard and moustache. 

Flynn is sicker than he was after Valeria gave him the Pat Pat of health yesterday, but better than he was when he came in. He had advantage to his roll today, for Reasons the DM won’t disclose. He’s putting up a brave front, and is definitely putting some extra effort into looking dashing and healthy. Somebody get him his fancy hat!

Meanwhile, having spent the whole night in close quarters with Valeria, Clem, and Fiona, Shoshana wonders: why is every woman she meets improbably jacked? What even is her life.

The plan, just to recap: We’re heading to a place called Bad Herzfeld, because we’ve heard it’s overflowing with the rare herbs and plants we need as spell components for the ritual we found in the manor house, which should purify the water supply of Mornheim. (Somebody’s been sticking their Taint in the water. HURR HURR)

We take a moment to question why, if it was a mage working in the von Mornheim manor, are the ingredients of the spell so druidic, and the spell written in archaic Old Valdian like a druid might speak? Druids live in the woods making friends with badgers; this was a bona fide wizardy laboratory. Shoshana rolls to see if she can figure it out and nat 1′s. What do you mean this isn’t what all wizard shit looks like? 

Valeria also rolls to figure it out and rolls...not much better. Maybe there was a druid squatting in an old wizard lab? Who knows. Magics is magics.

We have a thin, unfulfilling soup for breakfast, and then split up to prepare for travel.

Valeria immediately heads off over by the city gates. She tells the DM that her activity will need ten minutes, and that “you know what I’m doing.” The rest of us  have to wait in suspense.

Shoshana stops in to double-check on the doctor; she’s realized that it’s pretty likely that any corpses will get up just like Sokolov did, and she’s pretty sure the locals have figured that out but needs to double check. Turns out that yes, the Doctor has been burning the bodies. Cremation isn’t common in Valdia; if you live in a forest, funeral pyres tend to set the trees on fire. But you do what you gotta in a zombie apocalypse.

Clem organizes her kit and sharpens her sword, then takes a little while to read through the Sturmhearst journals she picked up from the book merchant. There’s an article about research into “replacing lost limbs with synthetic troll blood made of fungus.” Given what we’ve just found out about fungus people... thaaaaat could be bad.

Gral interrupts her reading to awkwardly ask Clem about when he used his magic lutestrings to wooble her. “How did it feel? I’d like to make sure I don’t kill someone by accident.

Clem thinks about the experience, which did come with a chunk of psychic damage. “It wasn’t painful, or necessarily unpleasant?” she says, thoughtfully. “But it was unpleasant in its unexpected nature. Like when the surface of a pond starts rippling – but you’re made of air instead of water – I dunno if I’m describing it right? But it was like that.”

Gral sits down next to her. “After acquiring the strings, my best test subject was self. You get used to it quickly. Maybe it’s not good to get used to it?”

Clem nods. “Yeah, it’s probably bad to get used to it.” She shows the journals to Gral to get his opinion, since the orcs have had skirmishes with fungal zombies before. The paper details the formula derived from a strange new fungus, but doesn’t really give any details about the fungus itself, so Gral doesn’t have much to go on.

As they flip through the journals, they also find a paper about fungal infection and potential treatments, by a Professor Alma Ulmus. Useful for Flynn, perhaps?

Clem med checks well and grasps the concepts pretty well. The paper details several techniques for dealing with fungal infection. There are some theories about ways to selectively target the infection with necrotic damage and certain medicines/poisons. Unfortunately, the techniques tend to come with hefty risks to the wellness of the patient, since you’re basically injecting a toxin that is mildly more deadly to the fungus than to the patient. It’s chemo, basically.

(We go down a conversational rabbit hole re: magic cancer and magical chemotherapy techniques, and have to get wrangled back on track.)

None of the treatments are outlined in enough detail for us to use. Mostly it’s an update about ongoing research initiatives, in case anyone wants to give the good Professor some grant funding.

(”The results aren’t peer reviewed yet - Who am I kidding, Sturmhearst doesn’t peer review.” “They used to, back in the good old days!” says our ghost scalpel.)

Valeria has, meanwhile, found a decent spot to perform her holy ritual, and lets the other players know that “we” are coming to meet up with the group. The first player to realize what’s going on squeals a little.

Valeria, in fact, has cast Seek Steed. (Yes, the PHB calls it Find Steed, but alliteration is important!) 

Something is walking alongside Valeria, pressing its large reptilian head to her chest affectionately. It’s similar to the creatures we’ve seen pulling Lucinius’ cart but it’s thinner, taller, more fine-boned. It is a faintly glowing lilac color, with silver reaching up to almost its knee on one foreleg and its ankle on the opposite hind leg, with a silvery crescent on forehead. 

“Oh my god, it’s a crocodile,” Shoshana’s player gasps.

“It’s an ALLIGATOR,” Valeria’s player returns indignantly.

Valeria pets the cool dinosaur behind its skull and tells it its name is Aethis. (It’s named for the aether from which it arose, being a celestial mount.) Rack, in his divine kindness, also had Aethis show up with a very fancy saddle. It has a rose embossed on it, and as Valeria names the creature, “Aethis” appears embossed on the saddle in Draco-Aquilian. The reptilian mount is faintly glowing purple. 

Its pronouns are they/them, because it is a celestial being of divine energy that has taken mortal form for Valeria’s convenience; what even is a gender.

The rest of us stare. “...Where did you get that.” 

“Rack gave them to me!” 

“Just, like, now? While I was in the bathroom?” 

“There’s a ritual. It’s a paladin thing.”

Shoshana awkwardly waves at the lizard. Gral obligingly holds out his hand for sniffs. Aethis sniffs him. Heartened, Shoshana cautiously moves forward for awkward pats on the head, which Aethis accepts.Shosha awkwardly pats. Aethis accepts the pats. Gral(‘s player) is like I PLAY WITH THE PUPPY even though it’s an Alligator Horse.

(The locals are like, what the fuck is that thing??? Like it’s obviously a paladin’s celestial steed, but……it’s THAT THING. Former-Kyr Crabber is not around to miss his long-gone mount.)

We don’t see Aubrey around – she was on watch last night, so she’s probably sleeping. Skulbjor the troll is watching the gate. 

“Hi, folks. Oh, lookit dat. You didn’t come in with that,” he says, appreciating Aethis. And hey! More folks came in last night - the one that doesn’t talk and the one that talks too much. So where ya headed? Back into the necropolis for another mission?”

We tell him all about our mission for spell components and fungus problems.

“Alright, well, don’t got time to process all that right now,” he says slowly as his troll-brain tries to catch up. “Let’s say good luck and I’ll tell Lady Aubrey you went to get some medicines. All right, best of luck to ya. Stay away from that grove what’s north of the road, the watchman heard some things movin’ around in there. I like your new chomper.”

Skulborg proceeds to scritch our new chomper with one big troll finger. “Aww, ’s a good chomper.” Aethis accepts the scritches.

We leave the dreary town of Mornheim. And as we leave its twisted trees and grim orchards and rows of graves, we feel the sun on your face, and it feels a little like we’ve been holding our breath in all this time. The sun feels warmer and we all feel a bit more alive, having left that place.

According to our best map, some of the roads go through Dead Towns, which people generally go around. Traveling in the Cursewood is a lot of back roads these days. You take the main road where you can, but some places are just impassable now – disrepair, or spooky monsters, or sometimes a town just vanishes and people wisely decide not to go where it used to be.

The result of this is that all of us have maps, and none of them match. Being a cartographer is a very stressful job right now, okay? Luckily, a good Survival check keeps us on the trail. We’re going for a town called Three Oaks Junction, which is more of a permanent camp than a proper town. We can get a better map there. It’s basically a three-way crossroads of some major roads; a travel stop that has a large enough occupancy of tents and carts that it can function as a safe stopover and makeshift town. We’re about two days out from there.

How long do we have until the troll moot? Fiona starts signing, and Flynn translates. Trolls don’t exactly subscribe to the mail, so they’re very slow to get the word out and get together. It’s less of meeting and more like a short-term living situation for times of crisis. They rarely last very long – trolls are solitary because they eat a lot of food. A large population of trolls in one place needs a LOT of food, and a big gathering is only done in extreme situations where there’s access to large food stockpile. There hasn’t been one in at least 200 years; mostly they’re just talked about in old songs. So we have plenty of time, but we want to shut it down long before any momentum starts up. If we can stop trolls from hearing about the moot in the first place, that might be the best for everyone.

(As we travel, we have our usual silly arguments, this time about Aethis: Celestial war mounts do not need to eat, although war gators are obligate carnivores. So Aethis can eat meat if they want to, right? In that case, what happens to that food?

“HOW IT POOP, DM? WRITE THE LORE!”

“It’s not a real gator, it doesn’t poop!”

“It waits until it’s unsummoned, and then it poops ALL AT ONCE in the celestial plane.”

“Dude? Dude? Curse you.”

“Was that a....lore dump?”

“CUUUUUURSES.”

I am told to please excise this from the record. I absolutely do not follow instructions.)

We’re boppin along and making decent time. As we travel, Valeria rolls good insight and sees through Flynn’s stiff upper lip, and insists on pushing another Lay On Hands of curing disease into him. Again, it clears his symptoms but doesn’t end the disease.

It’s late afternoon when we see a decently sized cottage by the side of road. It looks pleasant! There’s flower boxes in the windows, blooming picturesquely. There’s a cart next to it, loaded up with furniture and stuff, and a sign nailed to a tree nearby that says “MOVING SALE! CURIOS, ODDS AND ENDS. COOKIES PROVIDED WITH PURCHASE.”

Valeria is intrigued by cookies. Clem always likes a curio.

There’s a young girl running about and an old lady in a rocking chair, out in front of the house. The young girl is carrying things from the house to the cart. There’s a little table next to the old woman’s chair with a tray of cookies, as well as a surprisingly sturdy looking box. The old lady waves. “Oh, hello!”

We come say hi. “Yes, I’m moving in with my daughter and my granddaughter here! Say hi, honey.” The little girl waves hello and continues to help pack the cart. “My daughter and her family say it’s not safe out here alone for old woman. I resisted as long as I could. I can handle myself, but just last week as Rosie here was coming to visit, a werewolf almost attacked me! So I figured it was finally time to pack up and go.”

(Yes, we picked up on the Little Red Riding Hood joke.)

Clem immediately insight checks the little old lady, and nat 20′s. She is being perfectly trustworthy. Actually, she’s playing up the helpless little old lady act a little too hard. Clem thinks that she might have killed that werewolf herself. She’s got no intent to harm us, except maybe rip us off a little.

Clem shrugs. We ARE a group of 6 well armed strangers and a war gator. She’s got every right to be a bit on guard and play up the friendliness. She’s legit.

“Most of the things I’m not bringing with me are inside. Go take a look around! I traveled quite a lot in my youth, and I still have a few souvenirs!”

Valeria ties Aethis outside – in sight but not right up on the old lady, who is not spooked by Aethis at all. (Valeria is slightly offended that everyone is a little spooked by them. They’re just a gator! Gators are everywhere, it’s not like they’re a big deal!)

We enter the charming cottage and, well...that’s not what we expected. It’s absolutely stuffed, and it’s stuffed with COOL-ASS STUFF. There’s paintings and trophies lining the walls. That’s definitely a giant’s axe hanging there, carved with ancient runes. There’s a sultry oil painting taking up most of one wall, a picture of a young woman halfway out a window, turning to face the camera, smiling wickedly and clutching a gem as she prepares to rappel out the window. There’s big ol’ treasure-chest-lookin’ chests and boxes everywhere. There’s an old Aquilian war banner, hanging as a decorative tapestry. Gral spots some Orcish artifacts.

Who IS this woman?! Maybe she’s the protagonist of our spinoff prequel.

The first thing Valeria does, of course, is cast Detect Magic to see what glows. A beat, and then she just starts pointin’ everywhere. EVERY-DANG-THING is magic.

Gral ponders sagely. “I’m starting to think she may have overplayed the helpless old lady thing.”

Let’s investigate for stuff we wanna buy! Gral would like a projectile weapon, or perhaps some armor? Or a nice brooch. He finds a pack of 5 crossbow bolts inscribed with some sort of rune.

The old lady sticks her head in to see how we’re doing.  “Ah yes, can I help you find anything? I know it’s a bit of a mess, I’m in the middle of moving.” She spots Gral holding the bolts. “Oh, those are Bolts of Heart Seeking! They’re quite nice, I think. They’ll run you at least a hundred. I was asked to get rid of most of the deadlier souvenirs…” Gral buys them. 5 bolts, each granting advantage on the attack and an expanded crit range.

Shoshana looks for something protective, given her terrible caster AC. 

“I’m sorry, dearie, I sold my old armor set a while back,” the old lady tells her, but she rustles in a drawer and pulls out a little bag. “This was big help back in the old days whenever I got cornered by some-” 

“Grandma-” interjects the granddaughter, warningly.

“Well! Anyway, this will make anything that breathes sneeze and cough! 100 gold, and don’t say where you got it if you use it for anything illegal.” It’s 3 doses of Dust of Sneezing and Choking. Shoshana considers, but passes.

Clem doesn’t have much money after splurging on her new armor. She’s gonna save it.

Valeria looks for - well, she wants books, also anything that matches the Order of the Rose aesthetic, since she just found Kyr Marius’ old dagger. She doesn’t find anything recent - maybe some stuff decorated with floral designs, but nothing that would have been lost in the Crusade at the Summer Palace. She does find a shrine to the trickster god Guile in one corner of the room, and more importantly, a collection of rare books! None are magical, sadly. 

Valeria picks up a book about an expedition to an ancient Aquilian flying city. “Ah yes, that one was a comp copy! It all happened maybe 40 years ago?” the elderly lady chirps.

“Oh, did you write this?” Valeria inquires politely.

“Oh, goodness, no, I didn’t write it – I’m in it!” Sure enough, the cover has a lovely picture of a dashing lady-adventurer who looks suspiciously similar to the one in the painting.

We ask her name. “Jolene. Or Josephine. Johanna, sometimes. I think I’m Jolene in the book. Yes, those were good old days…”

She holds out a rod with a grappling hook on both ends. “This old girl’s seen a lot of the world with me. I picked it up from that nice artificer in Galway. It produces ropes! You push this button to launch the grapple, see-” she says, demonstrating, “-and this one to wind it in.”

“It’s a clever bit of machinery,” Valeria admits. 

“Oh, he mostly cheated with magic.” We pass on the Rod of Ropes, but it’s caught Flynn’s eye. After a short bickering session of increasingly rapid hand-signs, he buys it.

Gral asks about all orc stuff. “That was all a gift from orc leader some years back.”

“Oh? Who was it?”

“Ven’shek was the last name. His people mostly called him One-Ear?”

Gral’s jaw drops, like an indie band kid who found out their grandma knew Les Paul personally. “YOU KNEW ONE-EAR?!”

Gral’s history roll gives him some context: One-Ear was a bard, and he was a pretty big deal. He had two ears; he was just deaf in one after rocking out too hard at one point. He’d fought an evil necromancer who was trying to animate mummies of the honored dead, leading a group of bards to put a stop to that nonsense. He unleashed a sonic blast so powerful it buried the necromancer in an avalanche, but also blew out his left eardrum.

The old lady seems unfazed. “Yeah. He had two ears! He kept wanting us to ask why, but I wasn’t gonna fall for that.” Hanging on the wall is a bona-fide autographed copy of One-Ear’s bard mask, similar to the one Gral wears. 

Gral is still Absolutely Gobsmacked. “He was before my time but I’ve always really admired his work!”

“Yes, good times. He wanted my help with retrieving a thing from a-” Her voice drops to a mumble, “-dragon’s hoard.”

We check out a few more items. There’s a perpetually bloodstained sword sitting in the corner, with teeth carved in the hilt, quietly whispering, “feeeeeeeeed” to itself, which we leave well alone. There’s Gloves of Thievery and a Handy Haversack for sale, as well as a small silver raven ornament that Ms. Jolene claims will deliver messages. “Oh, I got that little thing in the flying city! It’s an Aquilian device originally meant to carry messages between their cities. It’ll deliver a spoken message or a letter. If it can’t get there in 24 hours, it’ll come right back to you. I was sort of hoping to use it to correspond with old friends...”

Awww. We won’t take it away from her, then. We WILL pool some cash for that Haversack, though. “We had good times together. I’m a bit sad to see it go,” the old lady admits, patting it fondly. Sure enough, the small black-and-grey bag is there in her painting, on the hip of the sexy thief.

That’s about all the cash we want to spend, but the sun’s starting to go down and this seems about as safe a place to camp as any. Old Woman Jolene doesn’t mind.

Flynn takes the opportunity to play with his new Rod of Ropes. “Fiona, hold my hat! I’m gonna try it out!”

Fiona signs to Shoshana, which with a bit of insight she figures out means, “Can you cast Feather Fall?”

“Nope.”

Fiona signs something to Flynn.

“Thank you, Shoshana! I’ll be sure to shout if I need your help!”

He does some acrobatics off the roof of the house, but he hasn’t had the practice with this thing yet. “Shoshana, now would be a good time to-” He falls flat on his face.

Fiona does her weird cough-laugh at him as he dusts off with an overdramatic scowl.

That’s our adventure at Jolene’s Lifetime-of-Adventuring Surplus. Jolene’s Stolen Goods Boutique: She takes them just because she caaaaaaan.

Given what we know about Ms. Jolene, we all keep an eye on our purses that night. Luckily, it seems like she’s trying to downsize.

In the morning, Flynn is not doin’ great, coughing hard and looking pale. Valeria Lays on Hands again, negating his symptoms. But we’re gonna need a permanent solution eventually.

Shoshana rolls a mediocre medicine check. The illness is from the inhaled spores from the farmer’s son, and it’s mostly respiratory. Maybe Shosha could brew a tea that could help with some of the symptoms, but she doesn’t have a supply of the right herbs, and Valeria’s got the symptoms covered for now. Ah well, it was worth a try.

We get on the road and roll into Three Oaks Junction later that day. There are indeed oaks there, significantly more than thee. Like we expected, it’s more of a big camp than a normal town – there are a few permanent structures, like a sheriff’s depot, but most folks here are living out of tents. There’s a big marketplace where many traveling merchants and local farmers come to trade, sort of a perpetual bazaar.

Valeria & Clem work together to write up a letter to Ambassador Khoshev with the warning about the Red Hand’s assassination plans. They give Clem’s name and rank for veracity and slap Valeria’s noble seal on it to give it priority. Asking around, they’re told there’s actually a courier service with a permanent shop over by the founder’s statue. Bonus, not only can they get a message to the Ambassador, they can also get a message over to Holzog, where Clem knows there are messengers who could get a message back to her “caravan,” which she hasn’t mentioned to the other three before.

Clem and Val head over to Red Raven Couriers to send their letter. Clem also sends parcel of gems to her caravan, the ones that we found in the Mornheim manor, about 100g total. The halfling clerk asks if the packages have any valuables we’d like to insure. Clem insights him, he seems like a trustworthy professional instead of someone who’ll go through her mail for loot. “The package for Holzog is valuable, I’d rather delay it if it will get extra security. The message is the opposite - it’s urgent, and there is no material value.”

The package of gems will go on the next well-guarded stagecoach, and the message will go immediately on a relay of fast horses. Valeria makes sure to tip extra well. Red Raven Couriers: Leave at sunup, there by nightfall.™ (Disclaimer: this is not a guarantee of one night service. We do not travel by night. What, do you think we’re crazy?)

Their job done, they take a look at the statue of Three Oaks Junction’s founder. It’s a drow! There’s two captions, a rather short one in Valdian and a much longer one in the Drow language.

Valeria reads off the Valdian: THREE OAKS // TOWN FOUNDER.

Clem can see the Drow caption has the elf’s full name: “Born to Clan Shenkel on a Rainy Night Under the Shelter of Three Oak Trees.” Ah, that’s where the town name comes from!

Clem’s pretty chuffed! “I’m very pleased to see people who aren’t averse to drow in this area! There’s even a statue, and not a burning heap where the statue used to be!”

The folks at the courier are happy to share the founding story. Three Oaks was a skilled wagon repair-person, and set up a wagon repair station at a good high-traffic spot. It became a local fixture, she eventually settled down and built a real shop, and that was the start of the town!

Clem knows: If drow know anything, it’s how to fix wagons. And care for horses. Good for this Three Oaks for making an opportunity of it!

Towering over the town, a distance from the main thoroughfares, is a large black and white striped tent. There’s a circus, scheduled for tonight! Valeria gets excited about the possibility of Night Circus.  

Clem has never seen a circus. Gral has never seen a Valdian circus. Valeria has seen many traveling shows. Shoshana’s seen a couple significantly less fancy traveling shows. Flynn and Fiona are excited to go to the circus. Everybody’s like, yeah, let’s have a night off, let’s have fun!

We worry that Gral, as a performer, might be That Guy: “Their technique was horrible, frankly, I’ve seen better-”

We’re hype! Let’s get CIRCUS SNACKS. There’s spiced nuts and funnel cakes. Clem gets a funnel cake. Shoshana is deeply disappointed to learn that cotton candy has not been invented yet.

Valeria goes over to get some spiced nuts. The nuts stand is run by a red dragonborn, obviously named Bophades. (He tells us he has brothers, Joe and Ligma.)

Valeria doesn’t know how much to pay the guy, and we meme about it. How Much Could Nuts Cost, Clementine? One Gold? Ah, nobles.

A few performers are starting to walk around to work the crowd. Everything in the circus is black and white, like a fun theme. All the performers have pristine white facepaint.

We realize we should probably not bring Large Greatswords into a theater, so we stash Clem’s sword, Valeria’s tridents, and the Eyegis with Aethis. Hey, Aethis has the Eyegis, Valeria basically has a large lizard camera drone to look through! Cool. Valeria buys Aethis a live chicken as a snack, even though celestial steeds don’t need to eat. “We’ll come back soon, I love you~!”

Shoshana’s anxiety cloak is freaking out, but, like, it freaked out around the cool old lady too. Does this thing have a snooze button?

We all find our seats, passing around snacks and jostling with the crowd. Outside the sky is darkening, and Dancing Lights come up all around the tent, swirling and casting shadows. A ringmaster in a black-and-white jester’s motley comes out. The lights all focus around him, 

“Hello, everyone,” he calls to the crows, in the practiced cadence of a seasoned performer. “We live in troubled times. This wood is not a very fine place. So tonight, in this tent, open your minds and your hearts and join me as I take you to a kingdom far away - yet as close as you allow it to be! First, walk with me as we approach the land of my king. We must approach the borders, guarded as they are!”

Braziers burst into flame all around the perimeter of the tent with a big oooh from the crowd! Jugglers begin tossing batons between them, forming a high arch, which the ringmaster walks under. “Cross the border with me!” he calls. “These woods are dangerous place, but my lord’s marksmen are expert.” Each baton is shot out of the air at the apex of their arch by an arrow! The jugglers catch them expertly, and demonstrate that each arrow has struck the dead center of a target painted on each baton!

Gral murmurs an aside: “I have the memories of every orc performer who ever lived, I’ve seen better, there was this one guy-”

Shoshana dope slaps him. Shut up and enjoy the show, doofus.

After a pause for the audience to applaud the archers, the jester continues. “And now, our master, my king, is building a bridge! A vast river lies before us!” Performers come out, shaking a long blue cloth between them. “But fear not, we will cross it!” A pair of strongmen start heaving around big ol’ beams of wood, while acrobats start making their way across the tops of the whirling beams in an impressive display of balance and coordination. The beams are moved into place, and one strongman lifts ringmaster with one hand up to them. The ringmaster mounts the ‘bridge’ and walks across. “Ladies and gentlemen, the bridge builders!” 

There’s another round of applause. Clem and Valeria are enthusiastic. Even Gral is starting to get into it.

“But before we can approach the castle and visit my master’s court –” the jester warns us. We her galloping hooves (or possibly coconut shell) noises. “Ah, yes! Do you hear who’s come to greet us! The knights of the Black and White!” Everyone claps, the ringmaster throws something in the braziers, and the arena fills with smoke. As horses carrying stunt riders circle the big top, we must all make wisdom saves. Valeria is informed she may do so with proficiency. We’re  all lucky enough to save, except Flynn.

As the smoke hits Valeria, she realizes – there’s something wrong here. Once tent has filled with smoke from the smoke bombs – it was to set up dramatic entrance, but…the ringmaster’s describing this glorious kingdom where nobody has to fear any death or dismemberment,  where the power of his king is absolute. There’s something weird about the smoke. Something weird about the performers and their flickering shadows. She can’t quite place it...

The show has moved along. There’s a knife thrower, a fire breather, and a sword swallower performing now as the “village blacksmith” as the procession “approaches the court”. It’s a whole routine.

Something Is Wrong.

The ringmaster’s patter about this king has become increasingly creepy. Fiona is giving us the side eye. Meanwhile, Flynn and most of audience are slack jawed and enraptured. I mean, it’s a pretty impressive show, but the imagery is getting macabre.

The crowd is no longer applauding after each performance. Everyone is just sitting there, completely entranced. Clem murmurs, “Does this...usually happen at circuses?”

Valeria glances through the Eyegis. The camp outside is perfectly normal, no fires or thieves or anything this might be a distraction from. She cuts back to the here and now.

Right now there’s two guys with halberds, with acrobats dancing on tips, performing as the “castle guards.” Shoshana pokes Flynn, who doesn’t react at all as he stares unblinking at the black-and-white figures. Fiona scoffs - just a poke? Please - and slugs her brother in the stomach. He snaps out of his trance as he gasps for breath, sputtering “WHAT WHY WOULD Y-mmph!” as she slaps a hand over his mouth and shushes him.

Gral hisses, “If we make a scene, they’ll know. Pretend like you’re watching the performance!”

We all perception check. Gral figures it out: the entire time, those dancing lights and braziers have been casting wild, flickering shadows of the rapidly moving acrobats and the people in costume armor But he gets clear look under the acrobats for just one second, and realizes: they’re casting the shadows of skeletons. 

These are undead. The king the ringmaster wants us to visit is none other than the Pale King himself.

Clem is very glad she kept her warhammer on her.

There’s maybe 80-100 people in audience. If we act, the civilians might be collateral damage.

The bad guys wouldn’t know us by look. Maybe we pretend to be enraptured like the rest of audience and wait for them to reveal their big plan. That, or we could just rush the guy leading circus.

The ringmaster is narrating entering the castle gates. The smoke started the process, but clearly the performance has something to do with keeping it going. Shoshana’s all for casting Shatter into the center of the ring - maybe a loud enough noise will wake up the audience. Valeria’s not sure.

Gral and Valeria want to wait and see; Clem and Shoshana want to disrupt the performance before they finish enthralling the audience. Valeria’s player flips us a coin. Our answer? Disrupt.

We refocus in on the plot of the show. The audience has been invited into the great hall, and a feast has been laid out for us – there’s a huge table, with acrobats and jugglers doing a routine where they’re tossing around plates and chairs. We have to roll deception, and we do good enough that they don’t notice we’re snapped out of it, but the ringmaster is definitely scanning the crowd for anyone who’s not under yet. 

At this point, the macabre stuff has become overt. The “castle servants” are setting plates with skulls and crawling hand bones. It’s Obvious Curse at this point. We agree that this is a really cool, goth circus theme, but we would prefer it to maybe...not end with the whole crowd becoming zombies?

Gral decides to Dispel Magic the smoke. To hell with subtlety, we’re going for disruption. He stands up and strikes an echoing POWER CHORD!!! Rolling well, he dispels the effect of the smoke, shouting, “The show is over!” 

As he strikes his lute, a tangible soundwave goes out through the audience. A ripple goes through the smoke, and it starts to fade. The Dancing Lights flicker and come back up. With the spell gone, we can see clearly: the performers are still dressed up, but the acrobats, strongmen, etc. are all visibly rotting or skeletal.

The crowd, suddenly jerked out of the mass charm effect, predictably panics.

The ringmaster turns and looks directly at Gral. In his ringing showman’s voice, he bellows, “GET THEM. THE KING COMMANDS IT.”

Shoshana centers a Shatter on the table full of dancing acrobats, trying to get as many low level undead as she can. Bone shards fly everywhere as all but one of the skeletons explode into bits, with a deafening BOOM that drowns out the circus music. A shame, since this is a dope-ass circus.

(The DM comments: If we’d let it get to end, it would have definitely gotten a bit King in Yellow. We drew a red card at the end of last session, so we get to meet an Avatar of the Curse. This here is the Ringmaster, also known as The Fool.)

Clem, Valeria, and the Fairgolds dash toward the Ringmaster. Valeria has her adamantine wrench. Clem has her warhammer. Fiona has hers, too. Just three super buff ladies with hammers…and Flynn. 

“I’ve got an aesthetic, it’s called Swashbuckler? We don’t use hammers!”

“If he used a hammer, he’d be a Squashbuckler.”

“Or a Smashbuckler?”

“That’s alright,” he quips, summoning his pistol, “I’ve got another kind of hammer I can use…”

(”Is it his penis?” asks everyone who has ever seen Dr. Horrible.

“It’s the HAMMER OF THE GUN, it’s not his penis!” sighs the DM.)

Shoshana aims another Shatter on the remaining zombie strongmen and their table, but they have better CON than a bunch of bones, so it doesn’t have quite the dramatic effect. Flynn shoots the Ringmaster with his pistol. As the shot hits home, he drops the pistol and snaps his fingers, a second pistol materializing in his hand. This time the shot goes wild.

The Fool howls, “GET THEM!” and the two strongmen rush at our tanks, picking up chunks of table to wallop our melee fighters with, mumbling “In the name of the king!” in their garbled zombie voices. The Fool begins to rise into the air, which is never a good sign. He points at Shoshana and in an echoing voice demands she KNEEL. She flips him off. She ain’t kneeling for no floaty-ass pale-faced clown!

Gral Banes the strongmen and the acrobat. The zombies are zom-baned. Clem sees them waiting to clobber her with chunks of table and is like “I can take ‘em,” and rushes in, carving a chunk out of the nearest one. The zombies don’t seem to be trying to defend themselves - they’re just balls of rotting meat in between us and the real threat.  I mean, they’re swinging broken table legs at us, but they’re whiffing hard. Valeria casts Shield of Faith on herself and Cone of Colds them. One save, one fail. Thanks, Bane! (”I love Bane!” “I love you too, citizens of Gotham!”) The one who failed its save and got Clemmed is bloodied. Fiona, raging, does 35 damage in a single turn and bloodies the other strongman. Her mouth is open like a battle-frenzy scream, but it’s just coming out as a hiss.

Shoshana takes a thrown knife from the last skeleton acrobat, and brushes it off. Then she realizes that unlike the others who charged in, she and Gral are still in the middle of the crowd. A crowd that is freaking the fuck out.

Shoshana promptly takes more damage from getting Crowd Trampled than she has from the actual enemies. (Gral gets buffeted around, too, but at least he stayed standing.)

Hey, did you know that The Fool gets lair actions? Arrows, like the ones that shot down the jugglers’ batons, fly in, targeting Gral, Clem, and Fiona. They even seem to change direction in midair to target him. These are ghost arrows! (Which does make the whole baton trick less impressive in hindsight. Cheaters.) 

Shoshana staggers to her feet and throws a Chromatic Orb of acid at the Fool. Flynn’s sword burns with green flames as he brings it down on a strongman zombie. The flame spreads between them and burns at their rotted flesh. One of ‘em nearly smacks Clem, but Gral’s Bane comes to the rescue, and Valeria gets to Sentinel him! She brings the adamantium wrench down on him with two hands. CRONCH. 

Strong Boi #2 punches Flynn in the face – or tries. “Ha! My sister punches better than that!”

The zombie is like, “We’re fighting your sister! That’s a compliment!” Or it would, if this was The Road to El Dorado. Mostly it just grunts.

The Fool gestures grandly, and we all must make Charisma saves. Shoshana and Fiona fail and are Baned. (Hey, no fair using our own tactics on us!) Also, he’s calling reinforcements. We hear the hoofbeats of the stunt horsemen as they charge back into the arena. Without the obscuring magic of the smoke, we can clearly see these are skeletal steeds, ridden by terrible, ethereal spectres waving big ol’ cavalry sabers. They are not headless horsemen; they have heads. We vow to change that.

(These are Sword Wraiths, for anyone who’s keeping track. Also, shout out to Skeleton Horse from our last campaign, forever in our hearts.)

Gral Phantasmal Forces one of the strongmen. The zombie hears a terrible crunchin’ noise. In his mind, the nearly destroyed table has come to life! The shards of wood invert inward, and now there’s a big mouth chompin’ at him! He turns around and starts fighting a table. The Ringmaster facepalms.

Clem channels the scalpel ghost and makes an excellent medicine check. Professor Wendell hmms, and points out a weak spot on the one Gral has just targeted. Clem pops the darn thing’s skull like a weird melon. He died, knowing he was getting eaten by a table. RIP.

Valeria tries to charge past the other strongman, but takes a solid hit of opportunity and gets knocked to the ground. She gets back up and returns the favor. The acrobat skeleton - oh, we forgot about that guy - throws more knives! Have a Knife Day, Valeria. (It doinks off her armor harmlessly.) Fiona smacks at the last big fella.

The spectral riders form a second barrier between the tanks and the Fool as the strongmen fall. They throw some spears at Clem and Flynn. 

The crowd knocks Shoshana over again. This is how she ends: stepped on by frightened civilians in a puddle of popcorn. You’re all gosh darn lucky she hasn’t gone evil yet.

The DM makes a Secret Roll. It’s a success! Valeria’s the first to hear the result, a thudding of claws on hard-packed dirt, and then we see the crowd parting as Aethis the war gator charges toward us, bringing our weapons. They wanted to help! They did a good job!!! We’d give them scritches but we’re, like, in a fight.

We get hit by more ghost arrows, and then Shoshana drags herself to her feet and twins another Chromatic Orb, shooting lightning at both of the spectral riders, who up close look like elven nobles. She then hides behind a chair, in the vague hope that no one else will stomp on her. Flynn stabs one of the riders with his green-flamed rapier, and the flame flickers between both of them.

The remaining strongboi hits Valeria for a big slam, but no one’s looking at them anymore. The Ringmaster, hovering above, begins to distort his body horribly. He distends his limbs, extending his body to spidery and unnatural proportions, and leers at us all with a manic, wild grin. The melee fighters all make WIS saves. Valeria and Flynn are now Frightened of him. As his lips stretch into an even wider rictus, his head rotates on its neck in a deeply unnatural way and his fingerbones stretch out into slender, vicious claws.

Gral inspires Clem, and Dissonant Whispers the strongman. It instantly drops dead. (”You scared a zombie to death. Metal AF.”) The spectral riders close ranks with their shields, forming a barrier between the melee fighters and the Fool, but Clem and Dr. Wendel are READY TO OPERATE! Clem misses one, but maneuvers on attack 2 to try to trip a skeleton horse. Action Surge! She crits the ghost to death, exploding it into mist, its horse falling apart into an inert pile of bones. Her final attack goes to the other horseman with a Distracting Strike. I mean, she did just pulverize his buddy, that’s pretty distracting.

Valeria is afeared of the Creepy Jester (which is taxonomically distinct from a creepy clown, we are told to note.) She takes the opportunity to Lay On Hands herself. The DM is kinda surprised that paladins don’t have resistance to fear in 5e. OH HI AETHIS!!!! They’ve run up to Valeria with her sword and shield. What a good gator!!!! Valeria grabs the Eyegis, and her AC goes back up.

The lone skeleton acrobat is like why r u guise ignoring me??? and throws a knife at Clem. We continue to ignore it. Fiona charges the ringmaster, Clem continues to duel the remaining rider, and the unforgiving crowd continues to trample Gral and Shoshana.

Clem, Fiona, and Flynn all take hits from the ghost arrows. Fiona shrugs it off, but Flynn’s not looking too hot. Shoshana chugs a healing potion (because of freakin’ CROWD DAMAGE!) and dives behind a tent pillar.

The Fool cackles eerily, and everybody under 10 health must make CON save. He was trying to give us all taint, but everybody affected manages to save. He swipes at Fiona with his Horrible Claws, but she blocks with her hammer.

Gral Dissonant Whispers the remaining rider, who nat-1s. It’s scared bad, and Clem does the honors, catching it with her hammer as it passes by. “AH-AH, YOU ARE NOT DISCHARGED!” cries Dr. Wendell. As it flees, the ghost dissipates, and horse tumbles into a mess of bones, carried forward by its own momentum.

Now it’s Clem’s proper turn, and she’s gonna hit the Fool!!!! But first, Second Wind. Miss one, hit one, MANEUVER! Trip Attack! She knocks him prone!

Valeria rides Aethis to the Fool, then dismounts, and Aethis dashes to get to the acrobat. Valeria brings her wrench down on the Fool. She Smites him good. (He is undead, so smite does a Lot.) He makes a goofy OOF! Sound and begins to wriggle up from the ground, and then she just SLAMS him back down. Flattened. After a hit like that, I almost PITY the Fool.

Look, SOMEONE was gonna make that joke.

The acrobat throws knives at Valeria! It crits, but like, it’s a knife. Valeria doesn’t care. Fiona drops one warhammer and just pins the Fool on the ground, grappling him. Raging, she gets advantage. Pinning him down with one arm, she swings her hammer down with the other. He contorts oddly, moving out of the way of one blow, but gets hit by her second slam.

The ghost arrows are back! They all target Fiona. As the arrows slam into her back, she just grits her teeth and takes it. Barbarians, man. Shoshana’s shot goes wide on the Fool as she snipes from afar. Flynn saves against his Frightened condition and starts escorting the last few crowd members out of the tent.

The Fool tries to contort out of Fiona’s grapple, but she keeps an iron grip on his wriggling limbs. Gral decides to join the melee party and stab with his Psychic Blades, finishing off the avatar of the Pale King. The circle of phantom orc warriors again rushes in as one. As he slices into the Fool with his sickle, the jester’s costume tears like a cloth bag, and a bunch of choking black mist bubbles out and away. Inside, there are only the barest, faintest hints of a skeletal form. His weird painted skull rolls away, a head in a jester’s cap locked in a rictus grin jingling absurdly across the big top.

Aethis swats the skeleton acrobat with its tail. It’s dead now.

The circus is silent. The last vestiges of the strange mist are blowing away. The tent is eerie, dark and cold.

Valeria makes a knowledge!Religion check. With the context that this was a weird Pale King thing, she realizes what was bothering her at the start of performance: she’s never been to a circus or play that didn’t open with an invocation to Guile, the god of trickery, illusion, and the arts.

Shoshana lies on the ground grumpily. Aethis comes over and offers a friendly shoulder to help her up. Shosha is like O__O because she’s looking into a massive faceful of teeth, but gingerly accepts the help up after being nudged and sniffed a bit.

Those ghost arrows were flying in from backstage. Let’s check out backstage! We find some quivers sitting there, but the arrows seem to be inert now that the Fool is dead. There are a few musical instruments in the hands of some deactivated skellies and zoms, collapsed awkwardly to the floor. There’s lots of props, costumes, makeup - all the regular circus stuff, including a tour map of places they’ve been. One more for Valeria’s collection!

We find some high-quality stage makeup, which seems a little magic. It might channel illusion magic particularly well? Gral takes a crack at understanding it. It’s not itself a magic item, but it’s designed as a good conduit for illusion spells. Gral takes it. It has 5 charges of enhancing illusion spells. Valeria takes one of the charges. We find some finely ground crystal, which seems to be what was thrown into the braziers. Valeria takes it.

We also have the creepy elongated skull of the Fool. Clem only wants it because her player used to be our party warlock. Fiona wants to smash it. We COULD bring it to the Cursebreakers, like responsible adults, but we’re all like SMASH IT SMASH IT WOOOOOO

We also find a throne on a litter, under a sheet. Is there something on the throne?

Valeria Detects Magic. There’s a lingering magic clinging to it, but fading rapidly. (The makeup and throne have a lot of Illusion and Enchantment; there’s a lot of necromancy generally everywhere.) Shoshana lifts the sheet with her stick. There’s a skeleton sitting in the throne. Not even an animated one. It’s wearing a very nice costume robe and has a crown on its head. Clearly, it’s meant to represent the Pale King, and the culmination of the circus act’s plot, but whatever power it once held was probably coming from the Fool. It’s inert now. We smack it with sticks. It engages in normal skeleton behavior. We want it to be on the floor in pieces, which it finds perfectly doable.

We snag some posters labeled “Feste’s Circus Presents: Journey to the Great Court” and start to head out.

We roll against Taint, but we’re fine. The initial Wis save against the smoke was the big taint risk - getting drawn into story could have been a disaster.

Gral theorizes on what exactly the Fool’s gambit was. There was spell worked into the performance. Its effects weren’t physical, like the disease in Mornheim. This was more like an elaborate, highly modified Mass Suggestion, bringing the people into a susceptible state and then implanting the idea of the glory and power of the Pale King. This wasn’t an attempt to make more undead; this was an attempt to indoctrinate more cultists.

As we exit the tent we remember - oh, right, there’s a big crowd panicking.

Luckily, we have a charismatic and noticeable person with us. A Large Shiny Paladin Riding a Fancy Magic-gator shouting “There is no more threat here, everything has been taken care of, let us talk to the sheriff,” definitely helps - people don’t necessarily believe her, but they’ll obey and let themselves get corralled. Flynn, very experienced in the public relations aspect of monster-fightin’, helps wrangle and pacify the crowd.

The sheriff of Three Oaks Junction has been summoned, and pushes through the nervous crowd to Valeria. “Kyr, thank you, I hear you’ve save us all – what do we do about this???”

Valeria puts on her best commanding voice. “The villainous troop itself has been dealt with; we have no idea if there is any other magical danger in the tent. Is it safe to burn it down?”

The Sheriff nods. “Oh, ya, local fire ordinances meant we had enough clearance around it; nothing else’ll catch.” 

We get the townsfolk well clear of the area, and then Shoshana, whose player is appeased that she won’t start a godawful circus tent fire like in that documentary she saw once, Fireballs it. The tent burns merrily.

Flynn nods to his sister; it’s time for him to do what he does best. He rolls a decent performance check and steps into his role as Radiant Knight, dramatically recounting the battle for the shaken crowd. He focuses on making all of us look good, which is really nice! He lights up his sword with Green-Flame Blade as he gestures around with it, which is an excellent visual effect. He’s framed in front of the burning fire of the tent, and Gral performs an exciting score of back-up musical accompaniment. 

“And then Kyr Argent strode forward, her sword flashing...”

(whispers) “I wasn’t using my sword”

“Ssshhh, it fits better, he’s embellishing.”

As camera pans up, following the smoke into the starry skies over the Cursewood, we end session.

[cyclicallife]

dépression nerveuse

Traveling does wonders for the mind and spirit. Each traveler has such a unique and individual experience, this, to me, is where the power of exploration lies.

It has always been a way for me to reflect. I can step back and observe my life from a different perspective. It has a sort of meditative quality in that I, from that place of outside observer, can sit with choices made or actions taken or even, more importantly, choices at hand. Perhaps it is because when traveling I can just be. I can strip away the layers and titles and personas and simply be. In doing so it is easier to stand back and look at one’s life and look at the past, look at one’s present. Without the smothering layers of what one is, what & how one should be, etc., things become a little clearer.  

My mother, the sweet and generous lady that she is, lumped together not only my graduation gift but my Christmas gift and birthday gift as well so as to allow me to travel a bit. she would say that my graduation gift, when all was said and done with my illness and things stabilized enough, would be a ticket somewhere - anywhere. I think we both held onto the idea of future travel to also hold onto the idea that I would one day return to the carefree, vagabond lifestyle I once lived. Her gift allowed me the chance to rekindle a sense of independence I was unsure if I’d ever have again.

I felt so fortunate; there was this sort of giddy, childlike joy rising up in me. I have a thirst for traveling and, after three years of a life revolving almost entirely around medical appointments and clinics, my great thirst was finally quenched. Naturally, because of said health issues, panic, stress and anxiety, etc. were never too far behind. Mostly, this anxiety and stress issues revolve around my seizure activity. If a place is too busy or overwhelming I become anxious and in turn stressed that the anxiety will trigger a seizure… it’s a bit of a downward spiral unless I can catch it before hand and keep myself calm. At times the anxiety levels were rather acute, though certainly a small price to pay for the ability to travel once more.

However, there was also this other feeling, too. Something that had yet to present itself sent a different swell of fear and anxiety through my being. I felt a nervous tingling that was running alongside the feelings of glee and gratitude. It was emotion thus far unfelt and one I could not label.

My favorite way to travel is walking. City walking is great, but I’m referring to setting out on foot and just… walking.  A lot of the paths I choose are well worn footpaths that often pass through many small villages and cities that are well off the tourist itinerary. These, to me, are where the real culture lies.

During this Trip I set out from a small city in southern France along a footpath used by pilgrims who were walking to Santiago de Compostela, a city in northwestern Spain. On other adventures I have walked different parts of this same route, however those were within Spain.

The term pilgrim might have been used at one time to denote a monk or other such religious devotee trekking hundreds of grueling miles to reach a small shrine or holy site. The modern “pilgrim” however is trekking for a number of reasons and not solely those of spiritual devotion.

I initially went to Le Puy en Velay, a city in southern France, because I had heard about in 2006 while traveling in Spain. A Frenchman told me, “you have to go to my hometown, it is beautiful!” I thought, ‘if anyone speaks highly of their hometown I should probably visit.’ While there I came across a symbol that has guided pilgrims for hundreds of years across various parts of Europe to a city in north western Spain. It was the same symbol, a scallop shell, that I used, that I followed rather, during my many treks to the same destination. The saying “all roads lead to Rome” can easily be said about the numerous footpaths across Europe, all paths lead to Santiago de Compostela.

I believe in such events and other serendipitous occurrences in one’s life. So, with very little hesitation, as per usual with my travels, I packed my rucksack and started out walking.  

Walking is all about allowing the mind to enter that previously mentioned meditative state. The reflection, at least for me, begins with the rhythmic movement of the physical being. After this it seems as though the mind follows suit and the pattern begins to move in a spiritual direction. It is also about passing through quaint little towns and cities, many of which aren’t yet jaded by the onslaught of tourists. I think this is really why I love it.

It is also very hard. I’m not talking about blisters and a sore back, I’m talking about the mental and emotional side effects that the simplicity of walking stirs up. In the past this is precisely why I would walk. To me it is sort of purge. After a long hard semester – walk! After a shitty break up – walk!

However, this time the difficulties were beyond those of a sore back and blisters began to emerge. The darker emotions that ran alongside the glee and gratitude, that which had yet to present itself, the emotions that were thus far unfelt … These are inescapable and they too were in my rucksack.

Somewhere neither here nor there as these treks often go, those things crawled out of and stood before me, blocking the path, blocking any forward movement, any advancement of mind and body. Literally, I was unable to take another step. I could feel everything within me shifting and pulsating as though I had spent the last several miles ascending a peak. I wasn’t sure how to react or what to do. I began to think I had hit a wall. Considering the deconditioned state I was in from my years of relative inactivity, this would make sense. I removed the water bottle from my rucksack’s side holder and took a long drink. After which, I removed my hat so as to run a little fresh water over my head thinking this might revive me and allow me to set out again. As I did so my fingers ran over the scar, the wrinkled creases and little divots where my brain had been operated on. I paused, then I began howling and screaming, “I had fucking brain surgery! I had fucking brain surgery!”

I cracked. I broke down. Right there, right there between somewhere and nowhere in southern France, along an ancient footpath upon which I had spent the entire day briskly walking, I broke. I crumbled slightly and then came crashing down! That which hadn’t presented itself stepped forth, looming over me

The weight of three years fell upon me; fear, pain, both emotional and physical, anger, and despair…

The weight of spitting into the sink and seeing blood.

The weight of the first seizure in Chicago and subsequent diagnosis.

The weight of my MFA studies being disrupted just a matter of weeks before graduation.

The weight of endless nights full of fears, of waking from nightmares, of waking up both enraged and saddened simultaneously,

The weight of looking at myself, at my reflection in the mirror, when I was bald and bloated, a gray form with sunken eyes stood there looking back. A figure trying to come to terms with life, trying to put the pieces together in hopes of making sense of everything.

The weight of my girlfriend at the time looking at me with loving and compassionate eyes, but also fear and longing for me, for us, to begin something that we had barely just started.

The weight of being told that the cancer had returned only six months after initial treatment, six months after my life was gaining stability.

The weight of postponing a course I was set to teach only days from the new of my recurrence.

The weight of a stroke and the brain surgery that followed.

The weight of an entire summer spent in a hospital room, cut off from the world, spending each day and night in a chemo induced nightmare, praying I’d make it through two, back-to-back transplants.

The weight of the seizures returning shortly after my transplant, rendering me a fear filled recluse, scared of walking down the street without being full of Ativan.

Right then and there, I fell apart in every way imaginable.

I cried. I cried so hard and wailed so much that my throat hurt. I don’t know for how long I cried. I heard myself screaming but it didn’t sound like me, it was deep and guttural, animal-like and completely unnatural. I don’t know how long I remained in this state. I was shaking, both from the fast approaching night, but also from the overwhelming emotional release, from crying so much.

After that I must’ve been in a state of delirium, because things are very hazy and not really adding up, time seems very distorted. There are many gaps that will fill in with memories over the coming months I’m sure. I remember an older French couple, Louise and Clément, who must have found me while trekking along. I remember Louise was giving me tea and cookies but I couldn’t hold either one down and kept getting sick. Evidently we had made our way to one of the many hostels that are along the route. There they had wrapped me in a blanket and dressed me in a thicker, woolen shirt. Eventually I was able to slowly sip tea. It began to warm me but I couldn’t yet manage the cookies. I just kept hugging Louise and crying. She must have known that I spoke sufficient French to maintain a dialogue and proceeded to tell me that they had found me only a short distance from the hostel. I was kneeling on all fours, pack still on, in the middle of the path crying and screaming. Through her hand movements and gestures, I could tell it was a little bit more than just crying.

The tea was warming my body and my head was becoming a little clearer. Things started to make a bit more sense. I remember the invasion of emotions and thoughts and how it felt as if they were choking me; I remember physically gagging.

I remember having this desire to tear opened my own body, to open up my chest cavity and remove something, to get it out– to pull out every last bit piece by piece of it, I envisioned strands of hair like substance. Though what it was exactly I didn’t know.

Perhaps it was due to my crying but it seemed I had reached a sort of hallucinatory state where strange and nightmarish events were happening.  I felt as though I was falling but never reached the ground, it was this continuous feeling of vertigo and the constant fear and uncertainty of when or if I would make contact with the ground. In another Hallucination I could just barely move my legs, but they were stuck, being held back by something. These hallucinations were broken up by my sobbing, as if my crying was holding them back.

I was lost in a terrifying, daydream,-like state recalling all these events, when Clément Sat down beside me and said, in English, “we go now to the hospital.”

They put me in the backseat of a car, to whom it belonged I did not know, then they covered me with blankets. I drifted in and out of sleep, only waking now and then to hear them speaking softly. The warmth of the blankets and the sound of French, which I always found soothing, pushed and pulled me from consciousness.

My sleep was tormented by nightmares however, again they were filled with strange hallucinations: of being in a room where my thoughts were echoing, reverberating within the space. I was not speaking aloud but could hear within the room my stream-of-consciousness- like thoughts.

Again I had this desire to break open my chest and pull forth some substance. This was the strangest of all my hallucinations. I could feel my hands both upon my chest and moving within it. I don’t know what I was seeking or what I was hoping to find therein, I just knew I was looking with a frantic desperation for something.

I deduced later on that The Louise and Clément found me just outside of Golinhac. So it would make sense that we went to a hospital Rodez. At the time however, I didn’t know where I was.

They sat with me in the emergency department until I was admitted. I kept holding Louises’ hand. Now and then she would give mine a gentle squeeze so I would know she was there.

Nurses drew several vials of blood and the doctor ordered an MRI. Several doctors came in, shook all of our hands, and then proceeded to ask various questions. Throughout it all Louise held my hand and continued to gently squeeze it now and then.

The psychiatrist introduced herself as formally as everyone else had. We spoke at great length about all that had happened, the feelings and thoughts, my health history, life and family dynamics - it seems the questions were endless.

At this point I was close to tears and had already broken down a number of times during the conversation.

Evidently I didn’t pose a threat to myself or others so they allowed me to stay in the room I was in. After she left I heard her speak with Louise and Clément Just outside the door. When they came in they too said they would be back in the morning and hoped I would be able to rest. Clément had family in Rodez, so they wouldn’t be far if I needed anything.

The following day, one of the doctors entered the room. He said the MRI was fine, which I knew as I had one recently in conjunction with my CT scan for routine cancer screening. The bloodwork was also normal. I knew this as well, but I also knew they were screening for illicit drugs. That didn’t surprise me considering the state I was in upon arrival. Even though many things were becoming clear, I wasn’t entirely sure of what state I was in or how I was acting when I arrived the night before. How was I acting? How did I look upon arrival — how did we look upon arrival? This older French couple bringing in a foreigner into the emergency room sometime in the dead of night. A foreigner who was sobbing and describing surreal, nightmarish like events. A bleary eyed foreigner  undoubtedly speaking mixture of gibberish, French, and English… It only makes sense that they would order toxicology screening.

I drifted in and out of sleep. Louise and Clément arrived and also looked tired, nonetheless, their eyes held such compassion.

Louise Brought in cups upon cups of tea. I’m not sure if she just really enjoyed tea or if she was still concerned that I needed to be warm.

The Psychiatrist arrived sometime later and, as formally as ever, as though she were just meeting us, said good morning and shook our hands. She asked how I was feeling and nodded understandingly when I mentioned how tired I was. She spoke at great length about her theories regarding the night before and the state I was in upon arrival. Much of it was lost on me as my head was still fuzzy both from the events of the previous night and also from the tiredness that seemed to be intensifying. She described it as a nervous breakdown, a dépression nerveuse.  She studied me as though looking for an understanding of her words. I just nodded. I tend to do this, I just nod when the subject of my health, mental or physical, arises. She nodded as well and this became the language we shared.

With that she began asking logistical questions regarding my stay in France. When I told her I was leaving from Geneva on October 23 she looked relieved but also a little concerned. Then she proceeded to ask a number of questions regarding my travel plans. It was evident her feelings were mixed both about my upcoming travels as well as the fragility of my mental health. She kept her gaze fixed upon me. I remember looking away several times only to look back to find her still staring at me with such intensity. This unnerved me. Though, each time my eyes met hers it seemed as if she was trying to understand something, it was a questioning look more than anything. There is so much haziness around my stay in the emergency department, but I am certain about the depth of her attention on me.

Louise and Clément lived in Lyon and invited me to stay with them until my departure. They were also comforted to hear I would be leaving from Geneva opposed to Paris or some other airport that would require a lengthy journey.

Breaking her formal manner, the psychiatrist placed her hand upon mine, which was resting in my lap, and said, “It is no wonder this has happened, I am surprised it is just occurring now.” Perhaps that is why she held her gaze upon me with such unwavering intensity, maybe she was trying to find the words, any words, that would help explain all of this to me.

Oddly enough this seemingly simple comment made me feel better. It validated something inside of me. Though still very much unclear, it began dragging things out into the light. Not everything, of course. Events and emotions will present themselves over time, but they will do so nonetheless. Not only will they do so about this particular incident, but in terms of the illness as a whole and the life I have constructed around it. The wall has been breached, this breakdown was the catalyst… it only took a horrific experience and the guidance of two strangers who bravely stood-by never once questioning my emotional or psychological state. Two guardians who seemed to understand the screaming, sobbing and guttural language I was speaking. Two caretakers who continuously  brought me an insane amount of tea!

Her comment let me touch down; the continuous fall, the constant vertigo, began to come to an end. The multiple voices within the room - my own unspoken voices — began to  speak clearly, presenting as one, solitary voice with which I would one day learn to communicate with. My legs incapable of moving, those being held back, shifted slightly - ever so slightly - a barely perceivable amount. The unknown thing I desperately wanted to rip from my chest... this will take more time to understand and come to terms with.  I’m ok with that, I’m patient and am certainly not going anywhere.

She was tagging them, defining them, placing a label on them.

Perhaps when we put a label on something we are forced to recognize it. It is no longer some-thing, but rather, in this particular context of the psychiatrist’s comment, a matter of permission. I am permitting this to happen. I am allowing this to take place. I am relinquishing control. I am letting go.

I’ve always perceive letting go as weakness, the antithesis, of course, being strength. I would stubbornly hold on, I would not be weak, I would hold on and fight to the bitter end to prove it!

Well, my stubbornness led me to emergency room in Rodez, France.

She could have just as easily said, ‘It is no wonder this is happening, I am surprised you’re permitting it to do so now.’

I want labels. I want to define things in order to recognize, grow and heal from them. At least then, when I fight to whichever end comes for me, I’ll know what I was fighting for.

My return… How would I make the journey back to the states? Who would I turn to for help and comfort? Who would watch me and allow me to open as Louise and Clément had? Now, just two days until my return flight was set to depart, with the recent events still very present and raw in my mind and soul, I felt frozen with fear. I felt alone. I felt alone in so many ways. In the presence of Louise and Clément I felt safe and comforted knowing, not only that they were there with me at present to protect me, but that they had seen me in the state in which they had found me just a few nights before.

I wrote to my older who, thanks to the gods, was also in Europe at the time. She had seen me in tears many times over the course of my journey with illness, she had never seen me in my current state. Though the dépression nerveuse allowed for the wall to be breached, I was presented with yet another wall. Advancement is happening, but the process is slow.

Within 12 hours she was in Geneva. She had changed our tickets and arranged everything to ensure our journeys  home would be the same. There is no way I would have been able to make the trip alone. The entire way I held her hand; from Geneva to Heathrow and onward to Boston, I held her hand.

This is a form of letting go. This is relinquishing control. Another part of the wall, or perhaps a wall in and of itself, is permitting others the ability to offer assistance. I am stubborn, as mentioned, it is hard for me to accept this. I have always relied on myself to manage various situations in life as I find others to fall short when called upon. Louise and Clément showed me that self reliance isn’t always possible, there are times when help must be accepted. They showed me that help and care come from a place of unconditional love, too.

Just as Louise held my hand throughout the dark night, gently squeezing it now and then so I would feel her presence, so too did my older sister when she guided me home.

[themoonishighlikeyourfriends]

💜ITS BEEN ONE YEAR SINCE MY REP SHOW 😭😭😭😭😭

It was a wild fucking ride so buckle tf up ladies

Ok so originally I couldn’t pay for the tickets so I thought I wasn’t going BUT one day around the first week of school and I was in the middle of a home workout when my dad comes into the house saying he had a present for me and I was pissed because I didn’t want to stop my workout and if I was I wanted to shower first but him and my mom were like “no come now” and I shit you not I said “if it’s not Taylor tickets I don’t care” anygay I go downstairs and my dad has like a birthday bag for me and In it was a new phone and I was really happy because I was useing a cracked android for a while and there was a card and I read it and it said something about Taylor but I was too focused on the phone until my dad was like “no Actually READ the card” and it said “you’ll see Taylor in Nashville on the 25th” and I started Straight crying hard for a good hour. Turns out my dad has won this thing at work for Taylor tickets (he works for the people who own the stadium in Nashville) and I made my dad call his boss just to confirm. Anyway the 24th was a Friday and me and my dad went on a road trip from Indiana to Nashville and we listening to the setlist the entire trip and (this is where shit starts going down) anyway my dad was having really bad cramps and he thought he was fine so I didn’t think much of it Until we got to the hotel and he was shaking he hurt so much but he took some medicine and he went to bed fine (I remember that night being so scared and praying which I don’t do too often but I was terrified) anyway we woke up the 25th and he seemed fine so we went to the mall and shopped before the concert and than back to hotel to get ready and he seemed ok so we went to concert. Before the concert my dads work at a cookout and it was the best fucking food I missed living in the south because the food up here in the north just isn’t the same anyway we went into the concert and everyone was happy that I was an actual Taylor fan and not just some local girl who’s daddy won the thing. Anyway we get in the concert and I was just so happy it was my first concert and I was in a space where everyone loved Taylor and it was just so fun even before the concert started anyway Charlie went one and she was ok and then I SAW MY WIFE (I fucking love Camila) and I cried HARD and then Taylor came on and I lost all shit everything was amazing best night of my life I was remembered I had to skip “why she disappeared” because I needed water and it was fucking $9 also I died when Taylor was on C- stage (I was lower level by c-stage btw) and I was like WOWOWOOWOW TAYLOR IS RIGHT INFRONT OF ME and I died it’s been a year and I’m still not alive and I remember screaming when Camila started singing in shake it off and even the fireworks went off and when she brought out Tim migraw to song Tim migraw and I went back to hotel just dead and still crying also getting a fucking uber was a fucking nightmare afterwards holy shit we ended up in some random cab that we paid too much for anyway we drove back the next day and my dad was still in pain and so he went straight to the hospital that’s when we found that he had stomach cancer and appendicitis (I think that’s how to spell it) (and yes my dad went to Nashville for a Taylor concert while having appendicitis) anyway the year went on, my dad moved back in because my mom didn’t want him living alone while going through chemo and it was a lot of doctors visits and surgeries and visiting my dad after school and calling him to make sure he was ok and eating awful fucking hospital food (worst than school food) but around May he did his last round chemo and HE IS CANCER FREE (yay 🙌🏼🥰🎉🎉) and now it’s year later and he’s still healthy and Taylor dropped an album and we’re all doing better than we ever were

This is also the story of why “soon you’ll get better” means to much to me I started crying as soon as it started and I honestly can’t listen to it now but my dad did get better and I really hope mama swift does too 💖

[nako-doodles]

I know you said you watched king of masked singer, so I was wondering what some of your favorite stages are and why :3

👀caution spoilers!!!👀 

for the troubled souls who have not been blessed with viewing king of masked singer

sohyang - breathe

sohyang is a Vocal Queen ok?? her technique is Godly. I esp like this stage esp bc she was super sick from chemo, so she was like ‘imma do an easy song’ and then proceeded to kill the runs with all the f5s and d5s and hit an Bb5??? Queen. plus this song really emphasizes her lower range, and pure head voice and just UGHHHHH A God

sojung (ladies’ code) - its only my world

I have always loved her voice and I straight up started crying once she hit the chorus and I recognized her. like straight up sobbing. she sings with so much emotion, that im going to quote my queen cheetah, ‘I can feel your pain.’ this was her first tv appearance since the car accident and she knocked it out of the water

wheein - who’s your mama?

she absolutely SLAYED the stage + that smooth bassline mmMmmm and she didnt even change the pronouns I love my soft talented daughter ok? she was sick on the of recording and still managed to murder us all???? a Queen

hui (pentagon) - DNA

tbh I dont pay attention to pentagon unless it has to do with triple h, and when I first heard this I WAS SO SHOOK?????? ABSOLUTELY KILLED IT. PLEASE LOVE THIS TALENTED SON AND DONT BE AN IDIOT LIKE ME

luna - mom

luna is such a gem, and the fact that people kept doubting her even after this showing upset me so much?? she has some of the best pipes in the industry but she still keeps getting overshadowed by the other members of f(x) and then got so much shit for getting plastic surgery just ughhh this show is such a blessing bc people actually sat their asses down to listen to her beautiful voice 

sunyeol (up10tion) - tears

thE greATEsT pLOTtWIsT I started laughing so hard at the judges’s dumbstruck ‘namja?????’ omfg this is such a GEM I love everything about this stage. he absolutely played everyone while positively slaying this song

chen (exo) - drunken truth

I love Chen’s lower register ok? everyone only remembers his high notes but like his lower register and chest voice is the best feature of his voice?? @sm let my son feature his lovely lovely chest register

hani (exid) - honey

hani has the smoothest velvet soul/jazz voice and should thusly be Appreciated Appropriately with suitable soul/jazz songs. she really knows her voice and what a revelation this stage is

roy kim - confession

im not crying you are. roy kim has such a great voice, its so soothing and lovely and this song perfectly showcased it!! im glad hes getting more attention post appearance 

solji (exid) - maria

this is the song that got me to pay attention to EXID tbh? she’s so talented ugh listen to how clean her head voice is and how supported her belting is. incredible. pls stan my talented daughters AND STAN DASONI YES 

seunghee (oh my girl) - whale hunting

holy fuck her Voice??? her stage presence??? incredible. tbh I only paid attention to oh my girl bc of their closer promotions, but seunghee’s voice always stood out for me, and this stage absolutely showcased why, with her beautifully steady chest voice and lovely support ughhhhh

shin bora x solji (exid) - don’t touch me

I love shin bora’s lower husky voice and she’s not even a prof singer?? add her lovely voice with solji and you get pure vocal witchcraft. I almost like this version better than ailee’s original

jungkook (bts) - if you

if you is my favorite bigbang song along with blue and fxxk it, and jk absolutely killed it. 

umji (gfriend) - free time

honestly this is for all those haters who said umji was just a rich girl who relied on her money to debut. listen at my girl, slaying. sure she isnt a vocal powerhouse, but its such a sweet lovely voice and haters should Leave Her Alone

dk (seventeen) - fate

another excellent showing of one of the best vocalists in the industry ugh wow what a voice

gummy - yanghwa bridge

I love zion t’s original song, and gummy absolutely have done it justice. her vibrato makes me want to crawl into the next blanket burrito and softly cry for the next year

sungjae (btob) - one day long ago

another super underrated voice. pls love him and his solid chest and mixed voice and how soothing it is

seulji (red velvet) x ali - genie

ugh I love seulji so much you dont understand, and ali, one of the best technical singers in the industry and you get a Treat, like this song is

yeeun (hat:felt/wonder girls)- re bye

tbh yeeun is one of my fave voices like her debut solo album me? is still one of my faves and her rendition of akmu’s rebye is Amazing

kyuhyun (super junior) - wild flower

ah yes an appearance from king five octaves. honestly theres not much for me to add exp is anyone surprised he absolutely slayed? such vocal talent despite his dick personality

ailee - bruise

and here we see ailee, with her infinite knowledge of what songs compliment her voice, in her element and rocking the stage aka my Aesthetic

haeri (davichi) - snow flower

davichi honestly comes out with the best ballads so honestly im not surprised that haeri absolutely rocked the stage

sohyang - home

yes sohyang gets another song bc this song really showcases her head voice and its such a pure sound im always so in awe holy fuck, no wonder she set the record for the most wins by a female singer. just sit back and enjoy her voice

hong jimin & lee younghyun – Lying On The Sea

two words: “holy shit” and “SLAY QUEENS”

jimin (15&) - memory of the wind

ANOTHER UNDERRATED SINGER YES SLAY MY SOFT DAUGHTER, I will always love her chest/mixed voices

kim yeonwoo & bae dahae – The Phantom of the Opera

they absolutely brought this song to justice??? this is a horribly finicky song to pull off, and they killed it with their spot on interpretation and lovely lower registers and incredible head voice. 120% would put on endless loop. the only better version is with ramin karimloo and sierra boggess, and maybe sarah brightman and michael crawford

[peachesnsunshine]

Hay frandz, life update tiem

Howdy. 

I got a new computer, a Chromebook, and holy shit this thing is fast and awesome. 

2019 has been a bit of a shit year. Like, on the one hand, I’m getting married in LESS THAN A FUCKING MONTH (YAAAAASSSSS, BTW did I tell y’all I found a boy who loves me and has a doge and shit?? It’s truuuuuu). 

But on the other hand. 

On. 

The. 

Other. 

Hand. 

TW: death, medical shit, description of surgery, struggle, abuse mentioned

My momma had surgery back at the end of January. A mass was found on one of her ovaries, and given her age, total removal of GYN organs plus additional tissue was decided upon. The surgery went well, and she was home within 4 days. 

But. 

The lab couldn’t figure out immediately if the mass came from a GYN organ or from her appendix, so the surgeon removed her appendix as a safety measure. It was a good thing she did. 

Because the pathologist found cancer in my momma’s appendix. Cancer. Fucking. Goddamn. Cancer. She’s been getting chemo since the end of February. I’ve been going home about once a month to take care of her. 

It’s been hard, because she is still married to my abuser. The man who sexually abused me as a child. She believes me, she really does. She’s also a victim of emotional abuse from him. Every time I go home to take care of her, he has been there. I sent him a letter in January telling him I was cutting him out of my life and he was not invited to my wedding and will no longer be a part of my life from here on out. When I texted my momma to let her know I’d put the letter in the mail, she called me to tell me about the surgery. Which led to the cancer diagnosis. Follow? 

My psychiatrist has been amazing. She offered me a 6-month course of Prozac, to help my anxiety and PTSD as I take care of my momma and the run-up to my wedding.  Edit: I’m picking this post back up again after like a month or two of not touching it, so I’m not sure what my original train of thought or plan was. But we’re gonna just keep rolling on.  The Prozac has been amazing, I noticed a difference in my mental state literally the first dose I took. My psychiatrist was totally right: it helps me feel more like myself minus anxiety and depression. The meme is completely true: “If you can’t make your own serotonin [or other brain chemicals], storebought is fine.”

So at the beginning of May Momma and I celebrated what we hoped would be her last chemo treatment. She made the decision to retire effective immediately, so with end-of-the-school-year stuff she wasn’t able to find out the results of her PET scan until after the Memorial Day holiday.  On Memorial Day, my oldest brother died. Marc was 57, and it was a heart attack, just like our daddy. [Side note: I am my mom’s only child, with 2 half-brothers, a stepbrother, and a stepbrother-in-law, if you wanna split hairs.] I was only 5 when Daddy died, and Marc stepped up for Momma and me. After my grandfather, Marc was the second-most present father figure in my life. Sure, we only did fun things like go to amusement parks and water parks, but looking back I now realize that part of the reason he did those things was to get me out of my momma’s hair for a while so she could fucking breathe and have some time to herself. The other part of the reason Marc pretty much only did fun things with me was that as he told me so many times, he was just a big kid. Even now, as I type this, I can hear his giggle after he’d say that. After Teddy called me to tell me our brother was gone, I cried like I haven’t cried in decades. The kind of weeping with screaming sobs, with hyperventilating sobs, with pain that makes you want to tear your heart out of your chest, with the only thought in your mind that all you want in life ever again is to have that person back. I called My Boy (fiance, soon huzzband) and told him. He rushed home as quick as he could and slipped into bed behind me and held me so tightly.  As we were packing our things a couple of days later, I texted Momma to let her know where we’d be staying and what time we’d arrive. I also let her know I hadn’t forgotten that she’d found out the results of her PET scan.  The cancer is still there. 

It has shown a response to treatment because it’s shrunk 50%. But it is still there. She restarted chemo and met with a surgeon who apparently is one of the top in the US for treating appendix cancer. The plan is that in a few months, after the wedding, she will go back into the OR for a pair of surgeries that will most likely take most of the day. The first surgery will be to open her entire abdomen up and the surgeon is going to go through all of her internal organs looking for and removing any visible tumors found. By my estimation, this alone will take several hours. The second surgery will happen immediately afterward and involves warming up chemo drugs to slightly above body temp then dumping them into her open abdomen and swishing them around for no more than 2 hours. This all scares the absolute fuck out of me. I don’t want to, I can’t, lose my mama. 

At this point, she has about two infusions left. One will be the week before my wedding.  Between wedding planning, losing Marc, and Momma’s cancer, what’s one more thing to add to my brain and my life? I’m changing careers. I’m trying to get out of healthcare altogether and into college admissions or student affairs/services. I’ve been working with a career coach who has been pivotal and amazing in my progress. I met him just a week before Momma told me about her surgery and that avalanche.  But by the beginning of June, I officially reached my limit of Too Much. My therapist encouraged me in the strongest possible terms to request FMLA for myself. I did and mercifully was granted intermittent FMLA. I am able to take time off when I just can’t get myself out of bed.  I am inordinately exhausted, so I’m going to post this as is and write part 2 (which will be happy, all about The Boy and me) tomorrow or something.  Thanks for reading this far.  

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #253

hope everyone is staying safe through this quarantine. wash your hands.

Which band do you have more music of than anyone else on your computer? Ozzy. Who’s your favorite philosopher? *shrugs* I don't know any's ideals well. How old were you when you learned how to read? I'm not sure, but I know I was exceptionally young. What’s the coolest Halloween costume you’ve ever worn? I don't think I've ever worn something rather cool. Who’s your favorite painter/artist? If we're talking about well-known, "popular" artists, I'm not sure. Maybe DaVinci. What’s your favorite song lyric- ever? ARE YOU??????????? FOR REAL?????????? Holy FUCK I get goosebumps from lyrics SO easily, this is like impossible. Probably an Otep lyric, though. I really don't like her personally, but goddamn can she write. What’s your dream tattoo if you don’t have it already? I've linked it before, so I'll just remind it's "Denialism" by deviantART's NukeRooster on my entire, upper left arm. I've already gotten her permission (I don't like just... stealing artwork to put on my body), now just comes the day I can pay for it by a top-tier pro. What’s the coolest screen name you’ve ever had? I don't think any have been necessarily "cool." Who do you think was the most badass serial killer? (Real life.) I'm not well-versed in serial killers honestly, but I can say Charles Manson was a C A S E. I think we can all admit he was... interesting. Just the epitome of weird. Most badass fictional serial killer? ig Jason; again, I don't know a lot off the top of my head, but I like him. How many bank accounts do you have? I don't have one. Have you ever been falsely accused of starting drama? Yep. Have you ever found a song that describes your whole life? Parts of it, sure. What kind of car do you drive? I don't drive a car, but Mom's is a... Honda? Kia? Idk. I'm bad with car brands. What kind of car would you like to have? Average size, pretty simple. Burnt orange or red. I know I want one of those screens you look into to see what's behind you when backing up. Have you ever been to Dairy Queen? If so, what’s your favorite thing to eat from there? mmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. So unhealthy, but I will destroy and Oreo Cupfection. Try. That. Stuff. Their milkshakes are also great. Which website do you email from? Outlook. Do you enjoy receiving souvenirs? Sure, it's nice. Have you ever had the flu? No. What about strep throat? Maybe once? Do you normally have a lot of homework, if you’re still in school? Kinda, yeah. Did you ever enjoy gym class? Fuck no. Even when I was healthy. What is your biggest insecurity? My body. Have you ever painted a room alone? No. How many huge secrets do you have? Huge? Uhhh, none, I think. Have you ever painted something and been impressed by it? Yes. Would you rather go out to eat or stay in? I prefer eating out because yummy food, but considering I'm working on losing weight, I avoid it. Do you have any younger siblings? One. Have you ever considered bleaching your hair? To the point of being snow white. Considering my hair is super healthy and bleaching so heavily would destroy it, I'll be avoiding that. I DO want to bleach my hair to do other colors, though. Brown hair sucks. Do you drink vitamin water? No. Are there any old movies you absolutely love? Oh sure, a good handful. The Outsiders probably tops it. Have you ever had a Big Mac before? No, doesn't appeal to me. I don't like veggies on my burgers... despite eating veggie burgers when I was vegetarian lmao. Do you think you attract the opposite sex at a reasonable rate? I doubt that. Have you ever filed a lawsuit on someone? No. Do you enjoy reading often? I'm finally back into it!! Lately all I've been wanting to do is READ READ READ. Have you ever had a deadly illness? Well, I consider depression (among other mental illnesses) to be very deadly, but on a literal level, no. I mean I have dormant MRSA, which can kill if active, but it never has been. Most people carry that dormantly anyway, if I remember correctly. Ever had food-poisoning before? No, thankfully. Where did you last eat dinner at? Mom bought Nicole and me Sonic. Have you ever had someone pick you up off the ground & carried you? When I fainted, yes. Are you a flirty person? Not really. A name you hate with a passion? Edward, to name one. Erwin. A lot of old names. What is your favorite type of water (ex. arrowhead)? Essentia mmmmmmmmmmmmm,, Have you ever been to Warped Tour? I WISH. :( Do you know anyone who wears fur? I fucking hope not, because I wouldn't associate with them anymore. When was the last time you were on myspace.com? Damn yo, millennia ago. How often do you cuss? Too much. I mean, I don't even believe "profanity" is a thing by our definition of "that word is magically bad," but still, it's like when people say "like" too much. Have you ever cussed out a teacher? No. What did you think of the movie Juno? I never watched it. How often do you eat meat? Sigh, more than I wish. What grade did you meet your best friend in? We didn't meet in school. Last time you cleaned your room? Couple days back. I'm honestly bad at dusting regularly in here, but that's gotta change with Mom having chemo now. Her immune system will be compromised so this house needs to be as pristine as it can. When you were little, would you have rather watched Cartoon Network or Disney Channel? Disney Channel. We weren't really Cartoon Network kids, actually. It was Disney or Nickelodeon. Do you shave your arms? No. Are you a big fan of the Harry Potter series? Never read a book, never watched any movies; the first one was playing in my presence once, but I paid no attention. How often would say you pulled all-nighters, if you ever do? Shit man, never, nowadays. I don't think I've had one for two years now. My youth is escaping. Has a friend’s boyfriend/girlfriend ever had a problem with you for any reason? I don't think so. How many times a day do you find yourself cracking your joints, if at all? Maybe not even once a day. Only my big toes and upper back can pop. Is there a particular sport you follow on a regular basis? No. Are you 100% over the last person you kissed? No. Do you put ketchup on top of your french fries or on the side? On the side. Who was the last person you talked to in person? Mom. Do you have a dog? Not anymore, thank fuck. Do you like orange juice? Yes. Are you one of those people who obsesses over Hollister? I never liked it. They're not inclusive at all towards fucking NORMAL bodies, nevermind plus size. Apparently even their rules on looks for workers are absolutely horrible. Ashley liked them though, so sometimes I just had to go in with her. If money was no object, would you change your wardrobe? My goth could finally  E S C A P E. How do you/did you get to school? My mom drives me. Have you ever had to have a pet put down? Four times that I remember off the top of my head. What candy cane flavor is your favorite? MMMMMMMMMM get the pink Starburst kind. Do you get angry when fast food restaurants mess up your order? It's annoying, yes. Angering when you've already driven away, especially when you really wanted something. What was your favorite elective class in high school? Art. Did you ever wish you could be homeschooled? Yes. I was homebound for a little while. Have you ever had a dream so realistic you could’ve sworn it happened? Yes. Do you have any mental disorders? I'm a walking mental disorder, lmao. Y'all know the biggies, and now ADD and especially DPD (dependent personality disorder) are being considered. Do you feel comfortable talking about these disorders, if you have them? Yeah, I really don't care. Where did you go on your last field trip? I want to say to a band competition in high school. Are you able to agree to disagree? Or do you have to have the last word? Yeah, pretty easily. Is there a cover song you like better than the original version? A whole lot, actually. Do you have a hard time talking about sex with the opposite gender? I have a hard time with anyone. Have you ever had major surgery? Major, no. Is there any food you don’t like that a lot of others do? Here in the South, everyone is most surprised when they hear I hate fried chicken. What was the last thing you bragged about? Hm. I'm not sure, actually. I don't make a habit out of doing that. Can you do a backflip? Hell no. Are you listening to anything right now? I have a video up of relaxing tracks from Silent Hill 2 + 3. Great shit. Has anyone ever tried to tell you you were adopted? No. How many doors are in the room you’re in? Two, but one's just the closet door. Have you ever been engaged and broke it off? No. Has anyone ever drawn a picture of you? Yes. Do any of your friends have children? Yep. Is there anything you’re craving right now? Not really. Who got married at the last wedding you attended? A family friend. It was the second wedding I shot. Is happiness something to be achieved and sought after or is it something to be retained and held onto always, no matter what happens? The former. You can't just stay happy when, like, your grandma dies. What gives you a peaceful feeling? Nature. Hearing water and birdsong, specifically. Are you a Toys-R-Us kid? Hell yeah I was. My sisters and I would go crazy if we had the chance to go there. We were SOOOO upset when it closed down. If you believe in Heaven, are there separate heavens for different animals (kittie heaven. dog heaven, bird heaven, etc)? I don't know if I believe in a "heaven," but some sort of peace after death, yes. I believe it's one, unified "heaven." When you sleep next to someone do they fall asleep first usually or do you? They always do considering it takes me ten years to fall asleep. If they do, do you watch them sleep? I have. Not in a creepy way, but rather a "wow I love this person" sorta way. What is your usual breakfast? Usually apple and cinnamon oatmeal What do your salt and pepper shakers look like? They're nothing special. The salt is a blue ceramic, and the pepper one is just what you get from the store. Have you ever had your car towed? I've never had my own car. What band or singer do you believe started rock and roll? I'm pretty sure Elvis is given that credit. Whose voice irritates you like fingernails on a blackboard? The female singer of Mother Mother's voice. Mom and I can't stand her singing. All I songs we enjoy feature almost solely the main singer. I can *tolerate* it in some songs, but. What do you contribute to society? Ha. Do you take naps? Almost daily. Do you have any cavities? Not to my knowledge. Do you believe that there has been a man on the moon? Yes, though I do believe the "first" landing was faked in competition with Russia. It sounds ridiculous, but I'm so serious, look into the theory - there's incredible evidence. Would you ever go into a sex shop? I'd be too self-conscious to. I'd just order online. Let’s just say your school team is on a winning streak. One of the cheerleaders cheers both for your team and the other team during games. Does it make you angry? I don't care enough about sports to even consider how I'd feel. Do you prefer carnivals, festivals, circuses, parades or faires? To be real, I only know the difference between parades and circuses. What even distinguishes the other three from each other. Do you believe in psychic ability or is it a sham? I lean towards no. What is your favorite classic rock song? You CANNOT ask me this question. Classic rock is some of the best music there is.