#josephine gresham

[the-darling-house]

The Bishop’s Palace, Galveston TX

[monster-rinds]

Chapter 21: Partnership

To tell the truth, Felicity did a lot of the work greasing the wheels with the police for Amber and Josephine.

She could temporarily front for Amber to answer some questions that Amber couldn’t, or wouldn’t answer right. And she could doodle one of her eyes when she did that, in a place where an officer could see it.

Then she could watch the officer’s behavior and that of the other police, and front and say little things to lower the heat, and sow doubt on the idea that Amber and Josephine were intentionally involved in anything.

It ended up taking a bit of work further behind the scenes, though, because there was clearly an institutional intention on the part of the precinct to pin it on the most likely suspects, whoever they were. And the suspects they had contact with, despite Josephine’s protests to Amber to keep quiet, were Josephine and Amber.

So mucking that up with chaos and internal rivalries and distrust had been in order.

And, after a bunch of sudden arguments, disagreements, and unexpected red tape, it looked like the whole investigation of the Monster of Gresham was going to be tabled.

That took longer than just a day. It was a lot of work.

Felicity was not bad at it herself. She didn’t really need any pointers from me. We’d both had the same amount of experience with humans and reading them a bit from the inside.

I just fucked with their computers, whenever I got the chance.

We did not tell our little gang how we did any of this, because that was knowledge that could be used against them. We didn’t want them to be accomplices, even after the fact.

Unfortunately, something I started noticing was that my human disguises were getting significantly worse.

Even when I took the form of someone very nondescript, super average for the area, but detailed enough to be authentic, at least as good as my Synthia persona, some people just couldn’t stop staring at me.

I could be pretending to be a cis het white man with an REI jacket, a polo shirt, and black jeans, with halfway decent sneakers, and someone would be tracking my movements with jaw half slack.

And they were all human.

Also, I had started taking pointers from Felicity and increased my monster senses to at least match hers. And, I noticed that there were fewer monsters around me at any given time than I ever expected.

I even caught enthalpiphages and other affectivores moving away from me when they noticed me.

Sometimes they noticed me from a block away.

And I realized that if that had been going on for a while now, maybe that’s why I didn’t have very many monster friends. Not that I really tried making any.

When I thought ‘they noticed me’, I wasn’t necessarily meaning consciously.

I remembered what Felicity had told me when we’d first met. That my disguise was good and she’d had to work hard to recognize me for what I was. So, either these monsters who fled or avoided me were picking up on something subconsciously, like an ominous feeling. Or my disguises were slipping.

And with the way that humans were reacting to me now, I was starting to think it was the latter. I just wasn’t certain.

It seemed to have started shortly after taking on Felicity as a symbiote.

Maybe something about that extra complicated dynamic between the two of us required some finessing I wasn’t doing right.

I didn’t fix it, though.

I was trolling for Croc-face, and I wanted it to catch a whiff of Felicity within me.

But I was starting to worry that we’d have to bait it with Felicity in a human host specifically, who was currently being super careful around toilets, sinks, and drains of all types.

I was either scaring it away, or just not interesting to it.

Felicity couldn’t front in me, after all. I didn’t work the same way a human psyche did, even if there were some similar experiences we’d managed to simulate.

And I was thinking about this very loudly, whenever my thoughts came around to it, on the off chance Felicity was paying attention. But we were both pretty focused on our own things when we weren’t coordinating the derailment of the local police state.

I also really wanted to counsel Josephine, because she remembered Croc-face pretty clearly, and had been fairly well traumatized by it. And Amber, from Josephine’s perspective, had behaved a little strangely. Especially for having drawn the monster away and then showing up later not dead.

Amber’s lack of memory, at least, was believable to Josephine, who told her, “Your mind just shut the whole thing out, didn’t it? I wish mine would do that!”

But, I didn’t know Josephine, and Amber didn’t invite me into her life, so I just got updates from Felicity on occasion.

When I expressed my wish that I could help, Felicity had replied, “You just want to taste her emotions.”

Which wasn’t wrong, exactly.

Felicity still couldn’t remember stalking me, or courting me, or working with me on our first disastrous attempt at bating another teratovore. There were no memories there to dig back up. And that just really changed her way of talking to me entirely.

Especially now that we were stuck together, of course.

She wasn’t trying to coax me into some kind of trap or another, whether it was for me or someone else. She was stuck with me now.

I would have found the switch more bewildering if I hadn’t seen it played out millions to billions of times amongst humans and their ever changing relationships. But seeing it second hand and feeling the brunt of it are two different things, even for monsters.

But we had a closer connection now, so I wasn’t exactly fretting about it.

Time would tell.

---

Milk took interest in what was happening in Gresham when videos of the people eater chasing a couple of humans were released on the internet, of course.

It took a while to get there, even though it wasn’t very far away, since Milk didn’t travel by any technological means, nor would it fly. Its own locomotion was fast and relentless, but that was fast for a living creature or most monsters, not for a vehicle. And while it didn’t have to rest, it had to travel over every surface between its home in Salem and its target.

And when it oozed into town, it did so via the drainage system, since that was a good way to hide. Also, it had gathered that the people eater was maybe hiding down there. And Milk wanted to talk to it.

What surprised Milk, however, was the discovery that Gresham was host to not just one, but four other Overlords. And the people eater was the smallest of them. Well, second to smallest now.

Milk saw their shadows on the Strands as clear as its own silhouette there.

It would have to tread very carefully.

---

I was belligerently sitting on a toilet in a city hall restroom when Cassy texted me.

“I don’t know how to wrap my head around this,” she’d written.

Without her present within the same room, I couldn’t tell what she was feeling, and so I didn’t know the subtext of that message or how to interpret it. I had to guess.

My answer was the same for whatever it was she was talking about, though, “You don’t have to.”

“But I want to,” she replied.

So I sent back, “That’s OK, too.”

“I know, but can you help me?” she asked.

“Yes,” was my immediate answer. Then I sent, “Do you want me to?”

“Please.”

I wasn’t actually doing anything on the toilet, of course, besides trying to bait Croc-face. And now I was texting on my phone, which was really a piece of myself. It’s very likely that only one person knew I was in there, and that that person was a security guard, who I might have also been baiting, in a way, for a different reason.

I spent a couple moments considering all the different ways I could help Cassy come to terms with the existence of monsters, assuming that’s what she was talking about. It was a pretty good guess. There really wasn’t much else she’d been messaging me about. And the possibilities for providing her with more proof were nearly endless, ranging from easily dismissible and easy to do to utterly mind shattering and also all too easy to do.

I couldn’t do much over the phone, of course, besides send her an Eye of Felicity and have my partner give her a visit.

But meeting her somewhere after her shift seemed like a nice change of pace for me, and I did miss her presence.

“Do you want me to explain more, or demonstrate?” I ended up sending back to her.

“Both?”

“OK, I’ll meet you after work and walk you to wherever you want to go that’s safe and private,” I wrote. “We should avoid storm drains and such.”

“Eek. Yeah. OK,” she responded. “Thank you! <3 <3 <3”

I felt a little surprised that this subject warranted hearts. But I let it go. I’d get a better read on her demeanor and intentions when we met.

“See you at 3:30?” I sent.

“3:30 it is!”

I had some time, so after that I simply waited for Felicity to let me know she was in the clear, so the security guard was no longer a concern. And it was obvious that Croc-face wasn’t going to ambush me here. It would have done it a long time ago, probably.

And, then, I got up and went for a bit of a walk around the neighborhood before heading over to Hayward Grocery.

---

Even carefully watching all three of the Source, the Strands, and the Antumbra, Milk couldn’t determine the relationships of the other four Overlords. 

It had assumed the people eater, the smallest of the set, had been chasing another Overlord. Typically, very public displays like that didn’t happen unless there was a conflict between Overlords. But with the way they were all behaving now, there was no indication that that conflict remained. Either the people eater had consumed a much smaller Overlord, or it had been put in its place.

But four Overlords was a lot for a place like Gresham. And now there were five, with Milk there.

This made it nervous, and it considered leaving again.

It certainly no longer felt it had business with the people eater.

But then the biggest of the local Overlords started moving about in what seemed like a frantic way. Circling and weaving about, followed by a relatively straight line route toward the East.

Not typical behavior for an Overlord. It seemed confused.

Maybe it would be safe to approach that one afterall. If nothing else, by getting a closer look, Milk could get a better idea of what the local power structure entailed. And that would salve its curiosity at least.

---

In the Winter afternoon sun, which was already so near the horizon, Cassy blinked in the glare of it off of someone’s windshield, “Hey, Synthia!” Her black, curly hair cast stark rings of shadows across the left half of her face, which were then occluded by the shade of her hand. “You’re looking well!”

I had made sure to look like Synthia before showing up. I waved and walked over to her.

More quietly, when I got closer, she added, “Though, I suppose you can look however you want. Right?”

“Correct,” I said. “It does take effort, however. We should keep moving. Where would you like to go?”

“Can I see your place?” she asked.

I was surprised, “Do you feel safe enough to do that?”

No, she definitely did not feel very safe, and considerably less so after I asked that question.

“I think so,” she lied.

“We’re friends,” I told her. “But we’ve only known each other for a couple of years now. I’d love to show you my domain, and how it works. But maybe we should go somewhere that’s yours.”

“My places aren’t very private, and you said you’d want privacy. Privacy isn’t very safe,” she explained.

Of course, she was right.

I nodded, “Text Greg and Ayden to let them know that you’re with me. That way, if something does happen to you, I risk my relationship with them. A little insurance, even if it isn’t much.”

“Already done,” she said. Of course, based on that emotion, she’d talked to them during their shift.

“They don’t want to tag along?” I asked.

Another shift and flood of complexity, tinged with faint and uncertain smugness, and she said, “No.”

They’d talked about it and didn’t want to risk all three of them.

“OK. I guess that makes a lot of sense,” I said, then gestured. “My home is this way.”

And we began walking.

“We’re being followed,” Felicity whispered in my mind almost immediately.

“You’re done?” I thought back, surprised she wasn't focused on the matter with Amber and Josephine.

“No, I’m just that good.”

“Thank you. You’re wonderful.”

I had the senses she had now, but she was in a stronger habit of using them. And I was slipping.

Her alert to me was a reminder that I shouldn’t slip.

---

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[steliosagapitos]

~ "The Bishop’s Palace, also known as Gresham’s Castle, is an ornate 19,082 square feet (1,772.8 m2) Victorian-style house, located on Broadway and 14th Street in the East End Historic District of Galveston, Texas. The Gresham mansion was made all of stone, and was sturdy enough to withstand the great hurricane of 1900. The Greshams welcomed hundreds of survivors of the hurricane into their home. The house was built between 1887 and 1893 by Galveston architect Nicholas J. Clayton for lawyer and politician Walter Gresham, his wife Josephine, and their nine children." ~

[hmptfrank]

ooc. frank/josephine

so frank loves all of his fellow hunters so!!!! much!!!!!! I feel like he can sometimes be The Dad Friend™ ++ just wants to make sure that everyone is OK b/c this job isn’t easy and neither is this life but he’s also confident that they can all get through it together!!! and anyway since josephine is the leader of their group he def has a whole lot of respect for her!!!! 

[hmptsam]

ooc. sam/josephine

Hi, Pippa!!! It’s Lizzy! :D

Okay, so Sam and Josephine are rival hunters and Sam def takes this rivalry sUPER seriously!!! And he def just wants the other hunters to leave and he’s convinced that he, andrew, and  harold can handle this w/o them (also he’s super cocky and thinks that his team of three is better than their team of like 8???? so yeah, I don’t think and josephine will get on that well haha 

[apassionateman]

Gresham House [aka. Bishop’s Palace] Galveston, Texas

The house was built from 1887 to 1892 for Colonel Walter Gresham and his wife Josephine, with whom he had nine children. An attorney and entrepreneur, Gresham came to Galveston from Virginia following his service in the Civil War. He was a founder of the Gulf, Colorado and Santa Fe Railroad, eventually working to bring about the merger of the Santa Fe with the Atchison and Topeka Railroad. He also served in the Texas Legislature.

Chief Architect Nicholas Joseph Clayton designed the house. The small lot and oversized house make it an anomaly among similar houses of its period and architectural style. It is Victorian; however, it is more specifically described as Chateausque given the intricate combination of materials, cast iron galleries and complex roof system. Chateausque is a derivative of the French Revival popularized in the latter part of the 19th century by Richard Morris Hunt. Nicholas Clayton, however, expanded on the style by using varicolored and irregularly shaped stone, round Romanesque and depressed Tudor arches with heavily articulated carvings of vegetation, animals, people, and imaginary creatures. Constructed of steel and stone (it survived the Great Storm of 1900 virtually unscathed primarily due to its impressive construction which included stone exterior walls of 23", interior walls of 16″ thick and massive sliding pocket doors throughout the first floor), the Bishop’s Palace soars three stories over a raised basement level, with steep roofs and long sculptural chimneys. Typical of Clayton, he used a combination of simple geometric forms in bold massing to create an additional dramatic effect. In Galveston’s great period of mansion building – the 1870s, 80s and 90s – Gresham’s commission of Nicholas Clayton, Galveston’s premier architect, resulted in Clayton’s most spectacular residential design and arguably the finest of the “Broadway beauties.”

The interior spaces of this museum property are grand with exotic materials such as a pair of Sienna marble columns flanking the entrance hall. The first floor rooms have fourteen foot ceilings with coves and coffers. An octagonal mahogany stairwell is forty feet tall with stained glass on five sides. The stair is lit by a large octagonal skylight. A massive fireplace in the front parlor is made of Santo Domingo mahogany. The house includes abundant stained glass, wood carvings, and decorative plaster ceilings and walls. Other common yet unique woods used at the time included curly pine from Mississippi, now deemed near extinct.

[southernlost13]

THE BISHOP'S PALACE, also known as GRESHAM'S CASTLE, is an ornate 19,082 square feet (1,772.8 m2) Victorian-style house, located on Broadway and 14th Street in the East End Historic District of Galveston, Texas.

The Gresham mansion was made all of stone, and was sturdy enough to withstand the great hurricane of 1900. The Greshams welcomed hundreds of survivors of the hurricane into their home.

The house was built between 1887 and 1893 by Galveston architect Nicholas J. Clayton for lawyer and politician Walter Gresham, his wife Josephine, and their nine children. Photos from their website.

[cruiseworld]

Let's Cruise From Galveston

Introducing Galveston

Galveston is a port city located on a barrier island lying parallel to the mainland of Texas below Houston.

The city’s name comes from the year 1785 when a Spanish ship’s navigator, José de Evia, called the island Galveztown after the Count of Galvez, a nobleman from Spain. In 1836 Michel Menard a native of Canada bought 4,605 acres slice of the island from the Austin Colony for $50,000 to build a town. The city flourished and by the mid 1800s Galveston had turned into a successful city, the center of a large port and affluent business sector. But in 1900 an enormous hurricane swept in from the Gulf bringing a tidal pulse that covered the island, killing more than 6000 inhabitants and ruining any buildings in the way. Galveston’s concrete seawall was constructed following the hurricane, and has since succeeded in defending the city from the worst of over a dozen hurricanes. 

Today the city has risen to become a major city with an important commercial harbor and a successful tourist business.

Touring Galveston

Texas Seaport Museum Visit the Texas Seaport Museum to tour the 1877 tall ship Elissa, which operated as a cargo vessel for almost 100 years. The ship first called at Galveston back in 1883. Walk the decks to visualize life on a freighter sailing ship in the late nineteenth century. The museum is positioned a short walk from the cruise port.

Bishop's Palace To experience how the moneyed lived in the late nineteenth century drop by at the fantastic Bishops Palace. The railroad magnate Walter and Josephine Gresham hired Nicholas Clayton, Galveston's foremost architect, to design and build what is arguably the finest house in old Galveston. The house has an impressive façade with a round turret with spire, stone gables, carved window transoms, intricate coats-of-arms and stone built walls. The souvenir shop in the basement sells a range of ornaments, jewelry and history books. The Bishop’s Palace is sited on Broadway Avenue on the southern side of  the East End, one of Galveston’s historic areas.

Moody Gardens Anybody driving across the causeway to Galveston Island will spot the three huge pyramids of Moody Gardens rising on the western side of the island.  The Aquarium Pyramid, the biggest of the pyramids, contains many species of creatures from across the world. One favorite attraction is the amazing penguins. The Rainforest Pyramid is alive with tropical animals butterflies, reptiles, birds and plants. The Discovery Pyramid focuses on science interactive exhibits. Moody Gardens also features the Palm Beach waterzone, a golf course and a 4D theater. Moody Gardens is positioned by Galveston’s airport, around 7 miles south west of the cruise terminals.

Stewart Beach Lively Stewart Beach Park boasts a wide sweep of grayish sand on the Gulf of Mexico coastline of Galveston island. During the summer season, the beach is swept clean regularly, and controlled by lifeguards.The park is open throughout the week summer, but is closed for winter. Stewart Beach Park is located about a mile south east of the cruise terminals.

Cruise Ideas

A week long excursion around the Caribbean is the most popular itinerary for cruise ships leaving from Galveston. The variety of destinations on offer make for a fabulous holiday

You’ll be able to travel to a wide range of interesting attractions - in Belize enjoy lazy Cave Tubing in the Sibun Caves, in Key West sample tasty Key Lime pie at the legendary Sloppy Joe’s, in Grand Cayman amble along the beautiful sands of gorgeous 7 Mile Beach and in Roatan swim in the crystal clear waters of Half Moon Bay Beach.

For a full calendar of cruises see cruises from Galveston.

Galveston Cruise Terminals

The first large cruise ship to homeport at Galveston was Carnival Celebration, which started operating Caribbean cruises from Galveston in 2000. In 2001 the port’s cruise infrastructure was added to when a second cruise terminal was built to enable a Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines cruise ship to homeport at Galveston.

Cruise Terminal 1

Terminal 1 is used by Carnival and Princess Cruises. The terminal boasts an expansive cruise passenger embark and debark area, efficient baggage handling services and streamlined customs facilities.The terminal services a single ship berth

Cruise Terminal 2

Celebrity Cruises, Princess Cruises and Royal Caribbean operate cruise terminal 2. The terminal boasts streamlined security, a streamlined cruise passenger embarkation and disembarkation floor and baggage handling services. The terminal has access to a single ship berth

Long-term secure car parking is available for both terminals 1 and 2 at two large parking lots. There is a free shuttle service running between the parking lots and the cruise terminals.

For the port authority website see Port Of Galveston.

Transport To The Cruise Terminals

By Car

From the North Take I-45 to Galveston Island.  Leave at Exit 1C.  Follow the blue Galveston cruise terminal sign and turn left onto Harborside Drive (H275).  Continue nearly 5 miles to Kempner/22nd Street, make a left onto Kempner/22nd to arrive at the cruise terminals.  

From the East Take State Highway 87 West towards Galveston.  Take the Port Bolivar ferry.  Leave the ferry onto Highway 87/Ferry road.  After 3/4 mile turn right onto Harborside Drive/H275 Carry on for one mile then turn right onto Kempner/22nd street to reach the cruise terminals.  

By Air

There is no public transport from either George Bush or Hobby airports to Galveston, so most cruisers either rent a car or catch a cruiseline shuttle bus.

[hmptjosephine]

josephine gresham: you’ll know it when it happens

comes across as fearless and strong at all times; it’s a facade she has perfected over the years, and few really see past it

largely keeps her emotions on lock down

eg. if someone insults her/her hunter children she won’t lash out in response

however she is totally the sort to work people behind the scenes to ruin their reputation/make life difficult for them, in such a way that it will be near impossible to trace it back to her

she needs to be serious for her work, but tends to take everything seriously

needs to Lighten Up

finds it difficult to let people get close to her, probably due to past experiences where she has lost people :( more on this later

however, she is VERY protective of her hunter family, becomes a fierce mama bear if anyone hurts them

her job is her life’s purpose basically; protecting innocents from evil monsters is what she does

Knows Things™

wiser than her years tbh

on any sort of hunt she always errs on the side of caution - knowledge and planning are everything - and she’ll do whatever it takes to ensure as few as possible casualties, ideally no human deaths

literally knows everything there is to know about all kinds of monsters, even the ones she has not faced herself; she has spent a fair amount of her time as a hunter dedicated to research and training

tries not to get people involved in the hunter lifestyle who don’t already know about monsters as she doesn’t want to endanger people unnecessarily, the hunter life isn’t exactly the best one in terms of life expectancy

however, if the truth will save someone’s life then she may just break that rule, though she is normally able to work around it

Howard largely respects these wishes, since he does most of the recruiting

with the #greshamsquad, she is very much the one in charge who organises everyone for hunts and holds the fort; she makes sure to check in on everyone after each hunt also, if anyone needs medical care or time off then ofc she will make it happen for them

nonetheless she often leads hunts herself, and is an experienced and agile fighter, though she prefers stealth/manipulation to straight battles simply due to there being less risk of people dying (her team or innocents)

proficient in most weapons (she regularly trains, esp if she thinks a certain skill/combat type will be useful in an upcoming hunt) 

her fav is probably her crossbow

has ~connections~ in the hunter community

has a small stack of false identities prepared at any given moment

ULTRA PREPARED IS JOSEPHINE

seriously needs to lighten up

she doesn’t really ever let herself relax or have fun

no one knows this but there’s a lot of fear behind her confident exterior

she’s scared of losing people again, of getting more innocent blood on her hands, scared that if she lets herself enjoy things then she is betraying ? someone?? something? ?? 

it’s not entirely rational but she doesn’t want to dig too deep

she needs to feel guilty, she holds that weight so no one else has to

she doesn’t think she deserves happiness basically

gosh darn this got sad

let’s see how this egypt hunt goes eh?

[seemabtechno]

Newspapers from Oregon: Newspapers from Oregon is directory of Top Newspapers, Magazines, News websites, online TV and radio from Oregon. All Newspapers are free to access.

·               advocate (Mt. Hood Community College)

·               Albany Democrat Herald

·               Appeal Tribune

·               Argus Observer (Malheur County)

·               Ashland Daily Tidings

·               Baker City Herald

·               Bandon Western World

·               Barometer (Oregon State University)

·               Beacon (University of Portland)

·               Beaverton Valley Times

·               Bee

·               Bend Bulletin

·               Bend Weekly

·               Blue Mountain Eagle

·               Boom

·               Bulletin (Deschutes County)

·               Burns Times Herald

·               Business Journal

·               Canby Herald

·               Cannon Beach Gazette

·               Capital Press

·               Cascade Business News

·               Catholic Sentinel

·               Central Oregonian

·               Christian News Northwest

·               Chronicle (Columbia County)

·               Clackamas Print (Clackamas Community College)

·               Clatskanie Chief

·               Coast River Business Journal

·               Columbia Press (Clatsop County)

·               Confederated Umatilla Journal

·               Corvallis Gazette Times

·               Cottage Grove Sentinel

·               Crescent

·               Creswell Chronicle (Lane County)

·               Curry Coastal Pilot

·               Curry County Reporter

·               Daily Astorian

·               Daily Barometer

·               Daily Courier (Josephine County)

·               Daily Journal Of Commerce

·               Daily Tidings (Jackson County)

·               Dalles Chronicle (Wasco County)

·               Douglas County News

·               East County Gazette

·               East Oregonian

·               El Centinela

·               El Hispanic News

·               El Latino de Hoy

·               Emerald (University of Oregon)

·               Estacada News

·               Eugene Weekly

·               Gazette

·               Gazette-Times (Benton County)

·               Headlight Herald

·               Herald and News

·               Hermiston Herald

·               Hillsboro Argus

·               Hilltop

·               Hood River News

·               Illinois Valley News

·               Itemizer-Observer (Polk County)

·               Janco Saver

·               Journal of Commerce

·               Just Out

·               Keizertimes

·               Koos News

·               Lake County Examiner

·               Lebanon Express

·               Madras Pioneer

·               Mail Tribune

·               McKenzie River Reflections (Lane County)

·               Mid County Memo

·               Molalla Pioneer

·               New Era

·               New West

·               Newberg Graphic

·               Newberry Eagle

·               Newport News Times

·               News Guard (Lincoln County)

·               News Register

·               News Times

·               News-Review (Douglas County)

·               Nickel

·               Nickel

·               Nickel Ads

·               North Coast Citizen

·               Northwest Examiner

·               Noticias Latinas

·               Nugget

·               Nugget Newspaper

·               New York Times Oregon

·               Observer

·               Observer

·               Oregon City News

·               Oregon Coast Today

·               Oregon Commentator

·               Oregon Daily Emerald

·               Oregon Herald

·               Oregon Newspaper Publishers Association

·               Oregonian

·               Outlook

·               Pacific Index (Pacific University)

·               Polk County Itemizer Observer

·               Port Orford News

·               Port Orford Today

·               Portland Chinese Times

·               Portland Mercury

·               Portland Monthly

·               Portland News Daily

·               Portland Observer

·               Portland Tribune

·               Positively

·               Register Guard

·               Rogue River Press

·               Salem Business Journal

·               Salem Monthly

·               Salem News

·               Sandy Post

·               Seaside Signal

·               Sentinel

·               Sherwood Gazette

·               Siuslaw News (Lane County)

·               Source Weekly

·               South Coast Shopper

·               South County Spotlight

·               South Lincoln County News

·               Southeast Examiner

·               Southwest Community Connection

·               Southwest Portland Post

·               St. Helens Update

·               Statesman Journal

·               Stayton Mail

·               The Advocate

·               The Argus Observer

·               The Asian Reporter

·               The Bee

·               The Broadside

·               The Clackamas Print

·               The Columbia Press

·               The Commuter

·               The Creswell Chronicle

·               The Dalles Chronicle

·               The Grants Pass Daily Courier

·               The Gresham Outlook

·               The Index

·               The News Guard

·               The Observer (Union County)

·               The Record Courier

·               The Regal Courier

·               The Siuslaw News

·               The Skanner

·               The Springfield Beacon

·               The Umpqua Post

·               The World

·               Times

·               Torch

·               Umpqua Post (Douglas County)

·               Upper Rogue Independent

·               Valley Herald

·               Valley Times (Washington County)

·               Vanguard

·               Wallowa County Chieftain

·               West Linn Tidings

·               Western Oregon Journal

·               Wheeler County News

·               Willamette Collegian

·               Willamette Week

·               Wilsonville Spokesman

·               Woodburn Independent

·               World (Coos County)

[monster-rinds]

Chapter 10: Not forgotten

Felicity had lost Josephine several blocks back and some time ago, running from this monster. 

It was no endurance hunter, but it was still relentless. And it only had interest in Felicity. It must have been the one that took that part of her in the theater restroom. It was the only way it could have known where her home was, to lay in wait for her there. Unless it had been following her around since, but she doubted that.

Seeing its behavior as they’d both dodged and weaved and sprinted and dashed away from it, Felicity had eventually directed them to split up, shouting at Josephine to run home.

When Josephine had protested, Felicity managed to put such a look of determination and authority into Amber’s eyes that her friend had shut up and turned and ran away. And the monster didn’t even break its stride in pursuit of Felicity.

‘Monster’ was such a good word for this thing, too. It was horrific, and it had no care in the world for who or what saw it as it tore through the suburbs of Gresham after her.

Felicity could eat it herself, if she got the drop on it, she was sure. But after a couple of attempts to run ahead, double back, and ambush it, she learned very quickly that she couldn’t surprise it. It knew exactly where she was.

It must have absorbed those memories of hers it had eaten. She couldn’t do that sort of thing herself, but she’d seen and heard of emanants who could.

It was so devastating and infuriating, a deep violation. Those memories were hers, a part of her. But now she no longer had any access to them at all, as they’d been ripped from her very being. Amputated. And this thing was using them against her.

And now she was exhausted and starving and flagging and just so, so desperate.

If she absolutely had to, she could eat one or more of her emanant headmates. But she preferred to not even entertain that idea. They were her family. She’d relied upon them, and them upon her. And she wouldn’t break that covenant until she was mindless and unable to control herself. And she’d do everything in her power to avoid that fate for them. Especially since she couldn’t absorb their memories by eating them. It would be such a waste.

She needed to find food soon, though. But if she could just survive the night she might get a chance to do that.

Presently, she had her back against the dirty white asbestos siding of an older house. The strips of pressed and molded material pushing into her back as she caught her breath, she kept her ears open for the sounds of her pursuer, who was very noisy.

Dusk was coming fast, with winter right around the corner.

Two slapping noises and a massive scraping sound repeated over and over, getting obviously closer, accompanied by the periodic rumbling she couldn’t even hear. She felt it in her gut and chest, as if it was rearranging her host’s cells, pulsing like a big cat’s half-assed purr.

Soon, she’d need to run again. Very soon.

But again, she took stock. She glanced around the corner of the house, and saw it pulling itself up onto the sidewalk, pushing through a mailbox and a garbage can, straight at her. Its current path would take it through the side of the house. Though, she’d seen it interact with walls before.

Any physical object that didn’t immediately give way would cause it to stop and sniff.

It had no eyes, and no obvious ears. It was tracking Felicity with its emanant senses, a range of non-physical ways of detecting patterns in the energy of spacetime, and it couldn’t see physical obstacles.

Apparently, scent helped it to evaluate whatever it bumped into, but it didn’t use that sense to hunt her.

When it encountered the side of the house, it would probably go around.

She’d also seen how it had attacked her from the storm drain. It was capable of squeezing its bulk through nearly any crack or crevice like an octopus, despite otherwise functioning as if it had bones and teeth.

Unless she could figure out how to enter its psyche to eat it from within, or some way to destroy its body with physical force, her only other option was to trap it in a sealed container of some sort.

Like, perhaps, a walk-in freezer?

That might be possible.

These thoughts came to her fast, springing from half formed ideas and observations she’d had the last time she’d stopped for breath.

The thing rested by moving slowly whenever she stopped running. Then, when it got close enough, it would sprint again.

Her host’s human body could perpetually outrun it, and maybe even eventually outdistance it. Especially if she got in a vehicle, like a bus or the MAX. But it probably knew where she had to go to keep her host alive and well, and functioning in society. It at least knew where she lived.

It could ambush her later.

She needed help.

She needed help from someone better equipped to deal with this thing. Someone who didn’t need eye contact to do their best trick, whatever it might be.

She edged away from the corner of the house, putting more of the building between her and the monster.

Synthia, a thought bubbled up from below her mind. Synthia is ancient and must be wily. She has to know about this kind of thing.

The thought had a mental voice to it that felt like familiar herbal tea.

“You remember her?” she whispered out loud, to make sure her headmates could hear her.

Yes, came the answer.

“How do I find her?” Felicity asked, taking her Sharpie out of Amber’s purse and uncapping it.

Her domain is here, was the reply, accompanied by a vision of a vaguely familiar sidewalk passing by an unofficial trail entering a wooded lot, and the general sense of where that was in the neighborhood.

“Fantastic!” she hissed, turning and narrowing her eyes as she quickly scribbled her personal glyph on the wall of the house.

Just as she made the last stroke, the structure shuddered and groaned with the impact of two tons of monster. It caused her marker to skip, of course.

She turned and ran as fast as she could, to head down the block, and around the corner there, to sprint away from Synthia’s domain and toward a cluster of fast food joints.

She wondered if she left her host completely, would the monster follow her, and leave Amber and her other emanants alone?

With the memories that her headmate had shared with her, she could do what she needed to do, if she could lure the beast far enough away first, or get lucky and trap it with that walk-in idea.

What would happen if it got stuck in a walk-in with an abandoned human host in there. Would it eat the person?

Did she care?

She kinda did, she thought. Just a little. Obviously. She’d asked herself the question, after all.

As she ran, she thought about how she and her pursuer had managed to avoid the police who’d been called to intercept the violence.

It had mostly been due to her tenacity to keep running from the thing. But also how the human authorities had taken their time to deploy their officers to the scene. Also, a bit of chance.

She’d think that maybe there was something else at work, like something regarding her pursuer’s defenses. But she’d seen plenty of civilian bystanders recording it on their phones.

It was doing nothing to avoid human contact and recognition.

It would be interesting to see how this played out.

“Can you keep Amber safe while I’m gone?” she gasped out between breaths.

Maybe.

“I’ll try to get you to a safe place, first,” she responded. “Gonna spread my eyes around a few more places first.”

She already had eyes on most of Gresham, but a few more in strategic places could mean the difference between her plan working and being cornered one last time.

If all went well, she’d make it to Synthia’s place in a couple of hours, well after dark.

If not, it’s entirely possible the emanant eater would choose to wait at Synthia’s domain for her, since it almost certainly had Felicity’s memories of visiting the place and knew why she might go there.

If she was unable to trap it, and only lose it, that seemed likely.

She made a point of glancing back and slowing down, to make sure it was still following.

---

I’d devised an elaborate plan, which is usually a bad idea when you’re sober. But as we walked to my wooded lot, I recovered from my stupor quickly and couldn’t think of a better alternative. There were two big weak points in my plan, but there was nothing I could do except try to finesse them when we got there.

It was dark, with fewer people about to act as witnesses, and I actually did feel safer having someone else with me. Anyone. It didn’t have to be Greg. But it was Greg.

And when we would get to my place, the first thing he’d notice was that it was a lot full of woods with a game trail going through it, and no driveway or mailbox.

And that was the first weak point. Whether I invited him or not, he’d have to make the decision of whether to follow me in to see my house, or let me go in alone, and trust that I was telling the truth.

Which I absolutely would be, because as we were walking to my place, I was extending myself into my domain enough to command it to manifest a nice little cottage in the clearing.

And then I had to decide what kind of story I would tell him about the cottage and whether or not I had a landlord, or what I was doing there at all.

This had me a little distracted, because it took a certain amount of concentration.

Which meant I was relying on Greg to alert me to anything strange, even though he didn’t have all the senses I did.

I was also not paying full attention to what he was saying, going on automatic and inserting grunts and other vocalizations where it seemed appropriate. I even laughed at his jokes.

So, when I was done constructing and prepping my new cottage, I came back to our locality and my physical projection to hear him saying, “Anyway. It is so refreshing to get to hang out with you outside of work. This is a nice walk, don’t you think? Cold. But the sky is clear, and… well, clear for being filled with light pollution I guess.”

And I seriously slipped and said, “You should have seen it before…” and I stopped myself.

He gave me a strange look and responded, “I have. More or less. I grew up in East Oregon.”

“Oh. Cool,” I replied.

I’d been pushing things, for the last few years, seeing what I could get away with saying around my friends. I guessed I’d made it a bad habit. And now that I was becoming more embroiled in monster affairs, I’d forgotten who my company was, and had followed that habit without first thinking about it. I’d lost track of where my own boundaries were.

I checked Greg’s face, but he had an easy expression with his right eyebrow raised.

“It’s fucking gorgeous out there,” he said. “I really miss it.”

“It was still pretty dark here in the ‘90s,” I said, carefully considering my projected age. I was still pushing it, but relatively safely. “I understand it was even better in the ‘70s. But probably nothing like where you lived.”

He bobbed his head as he appraised me, “I could have sworn you were younger than that! Nice.” He looked around, and said, “At least the light makes it easier to see what’s around us. We can enjoy the neighborhood.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“Not at all!”

“Well, we’re almost there.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “You’re gonna think this is weird, but I’ve got a pretty damn cool property. It’s right up there.” And I pointed half a block ahead of us where my lot was. “You might actually like it, I think, once you get over how secluded it is. I’m sort of, uh, off the grid.”

He squinted at where I was pointing, then gave me a startled look. There was no mistaking my indication. The stretch of woods was long enough that I couldn’t be pointing at the house beyond it.

“You’re shitting me,” he said. “You’re pointing at a park. Are you saying you’re homeless”

“I do believe I am not,” I told him with a faint smile. “That’s my property. Or, it might as well be. I just finished building a cozy little cottage on it.”

He gave me affable but an incredulous scowl, showing teeth, “Now you’re really shitting me. With your own hands?”

Now, I did know Greg. I knew that he was socialist at heart, but also a bit anarchist, with an interest in what he would call ‘clandestined civil action’. By which he meant, people taking matters into their own hands. His favorite Star Wars movie was, despite how much he physically resembled his fanboy counterparts, The Last Jedi. The one with a hermit Luke, where the women did all the heavy lifting, and hope was to be found amongst the common folk of the galaxy. 

I knew I was hooking him.

“There’s a reason I haven’t ever hung out with you guys after work before,” I said, telling a different truth. And then another, “It took longer than I expected.”

“Projects like that usually do,” he said. He chewed his lip as he studied the lot we were approaching. The trail inward was now visible in the streetlight. He asked, “Can I come in and see it?”

I shrugged and said, “Sure? You don’t have to, of course. But if you feel like you should walk me through the trail, I wouldn’t object.”

I did have a quick and chilling vision in my head of Croc-face leaping out of the trees to attack Greg, though.

I was pretty certain that wouldn’t happen, however, since I’d had enough evidence to convince me it was a teratovore, and not the people eater I’d thought it was initially.

Why was I more afraid of Greg being hurt than me, though?

I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Not one more step,” Greg said a step behind me, in a softer, more coquettish and sarcastic voice. A familiar lilt. “It’s waiting for me in there, and it’ll get you instead if I leave.”

---

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[jrenphotos]

Galveston, Texas We had a lovely private tour of Bishop’s Palace in Galveston. Bishop’s Palace withstood the great hurricane of 1900, the deadliest hurricane in US history. From Wikipedia: The house was built between 1887 and 1893 by Galveston architect Nicholas J. Clayton for lawyer and politician Walter Gresham, his wife Josephine, and their nine children. In 1923 the Roman Catholic Diocese of…

[jodieshazel]

Oregon’s Recreational Marijuana Tax: A Field Guide

Oregon cannabis taxes

The Oregon Department of Revenue (“DOR”) imposes a point-of-sale tax called the Recreational Marijuana Tax on all Oregon recreational cannabis retailers. The DOR collects 17% of the value of all cannabis sold at each retailer location.

In theory, this tax burden is shared across the entire cannabis production line (producer, processor, distributor, and retailer) by depressing prices. Oregon law also allows cities and counties to impose up to an additional 3% point-of-sale tax, but this additional tax can only be implemented after a vote of approval from local residents. Local jurisdictions can opt to enter into an agreement with the DOR that allows the DOR to collect the tax their behalf, and most jurisdictions that have passed a 3% tax have elected to do so. In these jurisdictions, the DOR will collect a full 20%, and distribute the 3% to the local governments.

The DOR maintains a record of local jurisdictions that have implemented the 3% tax, as well the list of jurisdictions that have entered into a collection agreement with the DOR. In most cases, any local tax issues will be handled on your state tax filings (discussed below), but if you are located in one of the following jurisdictions you will need to contact the local government directly to arrange for payment:

Brookings

Columbia County

Coos County

Cornelius

Dundee

Dunes City

Gilliam County

Gold Hill

Gresham

Hines

Jackson County

Josephine County

La Pine

Lafayette

Rainer

Rockaway Beach

Sheridan

Tillamook (the city)

Tualatin

Veneta

Westfir

Wheeler

Yachats

At the state level, each month every retail location must submit an Oregon Marijuana Tax Monthly Payment Voucher along with payment for the prior month’s tax. The tax can be paid online through the DOR’s Revenue Online website or can be paid by check, money order, or by cash in Salem — with all of the various problems that arise from transporting large quantities of cash. Remember that you will need to submit a separate voucher and payment for each location, so if you have multiple retail cannabis locations you need to track sales separately for each location. In addition to the monthly vouchers, you also need to submit a quarterly return.

What does the State of Oregon do with your hard earned taxes? By law, the DOR distributes the state marijuana tax as follows (taken from the DOR’s Marijuana Fact Sheet):

40 percent for education.

20 percent for purposes for which money in the Mental Health Alcoholism and Drug Services Account may be used.

15 percent for state law enforcement.

10 percent to cities, based on population and number of licensees.

10 percent to counties, based on total available grow canopy size and number of licensees.

5 percent for alcohol and drug abuse prevention, early intervention, and treatment services.

Remember that cannabis businesses are still subject to any other general business taxes imposed by the state or local jurisdiction, and of course federal taxes as well (which you can read more about here, here, here, and here). Oregon’s Recreational Marijuana Tax should, therefore, be only one small part of your tax planning.

from Canna Law Blog™ https://www.cannalawblog.com/oregons-recreational-marijuana-tax-a-field-guide-ready-for-review/

[rp-comments]

Pippa | Hamunaptra Egypt

LAST UPDATED: 05/02/17 @ 9:35AM EST

ARTHUR BRAXTON

Margo

JOSEPHINE GRESHAM

Sam

Frank

Margo

Cora

PETER NEVILLE

Margo

[the-darling-house]

The original lady of the house, Josephine Gresham, painted this mural herself on their dining room ceiling, featuring her nine children as cherubs.

The Bishop’s Palace, Galveston TX

[monster-rinds]

Chapter 7: Not dead yet

It was a few days before Felicity resurfaced.

During that time, she slowly became aware of the outworld, and what her host was doing and experiencing in it. It was the usual stuff, the routines of cleaning house, making food and eating it, going to work, visiting with friends, and sleeping. 

But threaded throughout those experiences were mentions of the Gresham Theater massacre that had happened last Tuesday night. The moment when Felicity’s pain began.

The very first reports, spread via social media, were that as many as 20 people had died in a bloodbath.

There’d been a horrific photo taken via cellphone of the women’s restroom in the northern wing of the theater, blood covering a good half of the facilities, splattered and spread about by absent bodies having been dragged to and fro. And that photo still existed, enshrined in countless social media accounts.

That was ground zero, and people were certain others had died while running for the front doors, and in some of the theaters themselves.

But then the police released their own photo and statement. 

The police photo showed the destruction of a stall door, the ventilation duct, and one of the sinks, but there was hardly any blood at all. If any, it was hidden in the accessibility stall, out of sight of the camera. It didn’t match the first photo at all, except for the placement of the door, duct, and sink fragments. Which people found to be very spooky. And there were immediately arguments about which photo had been faked.

There was one supposed digital image expert who demonstrated an analysis of both photos, who claimed neither showed signs of being faked. But his report was lambasted as ridiculous by nearly every other expert.

The police statement listed that there were no casualties, and only one missing person. They described the incident as ‘a fight’ that had occurred when only a couple people were in the bathroom.

There was no explanation for the simultaneous and blood curdling screams of multiple people throughout the building. Neither the police nor the press even mentioned that part of the event, but the comment sections of the articles repeated it as a point of contention frequently.

And then, as the days progressed, some people reported having seen a huge lizard or an elk in the theater during the event. One person said it was an impossibly giant frog. All of these reports were dismissed by most people as fanciful and ridiculous. But, apparently, the evident mystery of the blood gave other people who claimed to have been there the courage to come out about seeing some sort of animal or monster.

Felicity, of course, could guess the truth of it.

But her host was amongst the skeptics, and her thoughts and doubts dominated Felicity’s mind as she slowly woke up.

And on Saturday night, Amber was arguing loudly with her friend Josephine about it while storming through the grocery store for their evening meal.

Waving a package of boneless chicken thighs wildly before stuffing it into her basket, Felicity could feel Amber’s words shape her mouth, “Come on. Predator v.s. the Thing let out just half a minute before the attack. And you know how that movie ends. People were already high on adrenaline and ready to see monsters.”

“I mean, OK,” Josephine said. “I’m just sayin –”

“It was a clear case of groupthink and hysteria.”

“Sure, maybe. And I’m not saying there was an animal there,” her friend protested. “But weird shit’s been happening around that theater since I was a little kid, Amber. You can’t discount decades of stories.”

“Of course I can!” Amber dismissed her. “But I’m not doing that, either. I’m just saying the animal wasn’t there. There were no photos of it. Nobody could get their story straight. And they waited until three days after the incident to start talking about it. The rest of the stuff? I just don’t know. OK?”

“OK.”

After grabbing the meat, they were wandering down the pasta aisle, looking for the right kind of noodles, and facing the question of whether they wanted to go for an Asian or an Italian profile for the dish. They hadn’t even resolved that discussion by the time they’d entered the store, and an overheard comment by another customer had derailed it.

So then they paused in front of the little ‘ethnic’ section, which was right next to the ‘Asian’ section and had everything for taco fixings except the tortillas. Tortillas were, illogically, somewhere else in the store.

“Ooh, we could do fajitas!” Amber exclaimed.

“Not pasta?” Josephine asked.

Amber shrugged, and gestured with her hand, “Mexican pasta.”

“I really can’t with you,” Josephine shook her head, but relented. “But yeah, fajitas sound perfect. Let’s do those!”

“I got lots of tortillas at home,” Amber declared, reaching for the fajita mix. “But we’re gonna need to swing by the veggies again for the peppers and onions.”

“Margarita mix?”

“Ooh, yes!”

“We got this.”

And then they were walking down the aisle again, toward the front of the store to take a left for the produce section.

The lightly speckled and marbled vinyl flooring regressed under their sneakered feet as boxes of differently configured carbohydrates and cans of beans and tomatoes passed by them. And the overhead aisle sign grew ever closer, looming above like an omen, green in the fluorescent luminescence of the store lighting.

It read, “PASTA, ETHNIC, ASIAN.”

Josephine sighed audibly while looking up at it.

In the brief lull of their conversion, Amber had been reordering her thoughts and trying to remember if there was something she’d meant to say about the Gresham Theater massacre. Something was nagging her about it, but she couldn’t put her finger on it, couldn’t remember if there was even a single word she’d almost said.

But then as they stepped out of the aisle and faced the produce section, where the rest of their fajita ingredients lay, she caught a glimpse of her favorite clerk. That goofy, mousy single-mom moonlighting as a student named Synthia. Well, she didn’t actually know what Synthia did when not at work, but those were the vibes she gave off.

Synthia grinned at her with recognition, but they weren’t ready to check out yet.

“You are gonna love Nope,” Josephine said. “Jean Jacket is the best, but also Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer both carry so much weight. Like it’s nothin’. Fajitas are such a good choice for this movie, too. I don’t know why, it just feels right.”

“Cool,” Amber absently said, finding herself staring at Synthia longer than she’d intended as they walked by.

---

I winked at Felicity when I saw her during my Saturday shift.

Or, I winked at her host. She seemed to recognize me, but I couldn’t tell whether Felicity was fronting or even watching from behind. But I hoped that the wink would bring her forward if she came around to my counter for checkout.

She was headed toward another part of the store with her friend, though, so I had to occupy myself with a few other customers before she came into sight again.

She seemed a little startled by the wink, and then was out of my line of vision.

And with the strikes happening across the country, Greg was talking union stuff, while Cass, who was on the other side of him from me, was trying to shush him. But the customers were absolutely totally having it, enthusiastically encouraging us to unionize, or even flabbergasted we weren’t already a union store.

That conversation could have gone either way. It was totally the luck of who we were serving at the moment.

Not drawing a paycheck, I stayed out of it, but basked in the radiant emotions it triggered.

I was quickly distracted from my Felicity sighting, and focusing on serving up the usual cheerful scripts of a front-facing business exchange with the public.

“Hi! How are you? Did you find everything OK?”

“Yep, thank you.”

“How many bags do you need?”

“Got my own!”

“Fantastic.”

“What about you?”

“What? Oh, I have bags of my own, too! See?”

“No, what do you think of all this union talk?”

“Well, I…” I paused to consider my words. “I support my coworkers in whatever they want to do. But it does feel like we get treated pretty well here –”

Greg glanced at me over his shoulder with a grave wide eyed expression, and shook his head quickly and shortly.

“Mm,” I said. “In any case, there’s always strength in numbers. And that’s important for whatever may come.”

Greg nodded.

And so did my customer.

I quickly finished loading the groceries in the customer’s provided bags, and hit enter on the register and read the total.

“I’m not very knowledgeable about unions,” I said. “But it’s definitely a better conversation than Tuesday’s incident.”

“Ah, yeah, the ‘massacre’,” the customer held up both sets of fingers to mime quotes around the word.

I got no particularly strong emotion from them for that. Just a hint of dismissal and amusement.

Someone behind me radiated shock and fear, however, and I turned and looked at them before they spoke from Ayden’s line.

“I was there,” a small woman with a tight black hair bun and a multicolored dress said, pulling her small child closer. She fixed my eyes with a heavy and meaningful gaze.

“Dang,” Ayden said, but she didn’t break her gaze or engage with him in any way.

“Oh?” my own customer prompted, lifting themselves up on their feet to look over at her through thick black rimmed glasses.

“It may not have been a true massacre,” the woman said. “But I will never forget the screams. Something happened there.”

“You screamed too,” her child said in Urdu. And she shushed them.

But it was clear that there were other customers waiting in all three lines, and I just nodded my head in acknowledgement, and we all continued our routines in a momentary wave of silence or quiet.

But before the woman left with her groceries and child, she reached over and touched me on the shoulder to tell me, not Ayden who was her clerk, “I remember the eyes. Markings on the walls. Where you see the monster’s eye, it might happen again. They look like eyes with teeth. In marker on the wall.”

And then she left.

Well, I knew the actual truth of that. But that was the first I’d heard someone mention Felicity’s marks.

It was obvious she’d spoken to me because I’d brought up the subject, and to her I was a skeptic for an event that she’d experienced first hand. She had no idea that I’d been there too, and I gave no indication of it. But she’d spoken to me with nothing but concern for my health and well being. She’d seen my disinterest in the subject as a sign I might stumble into danger. And she tried to fix that flaw by informing me of what she thought was a crucial detail.

And I appreciated that quite a bit.

Hers were good emotions to eat, too, but it helped me to feel briefly like I was amongst peers. Accepted for the disguise I’d devised. A human.

And then there were two more customers before I found myself looking up at Felicity’s host and her friend.

“Hey, Synthia, how’s it going?” she asked in a voice I didn’t recognize.

---

Felicity realized that Amber clearly didn’t understand that this clerk, Synthia, didn’t know her. It wasn’t so much a matter of putting two and two together as it was listening to Amber’s thoughts while watching Synthia’s facial expressions.

Synthia was such an open book, that moment where she took a mental step backward was plain to see. She clearly paused at the appropriate time in the conversation to say Amber’s name, in order to try to remember it. And she didn’t. She mumbled a hesitant greeting sans name, and mentioned something about it being a hectic week.

The fact that Amber spoke with different inflections than Felicity did, and a somewhat different tone, might have been a factor, too, if Synthia somehow knew Felicity. But Felicity was unsure of that.

With Josephine there, Felicity couldn’t bring herself to take the front. But also, she wasn’t quite sure who Synthia was, herself. So she just watched.

But it was obvious that Synthia had been expecting something else from Amber and had been taken aback.

And Felicity had some kind of hunch that Synthia was an emanant like herself, but couldn’t figure out how or why. There were no obvious signs without a thorough examination. But, if Synthia was an emanant, she’d most likely be one that feeds on emotions, just by the fact that she was here in this place pretending to be human. Most likely.

And when that thought crossed her mind, Amber hesitated and stumbled, glancing at Josephine.

Josephine quirked her head and raised her eyebrow, but didn’t seem to make anything of the moment.

And Felicity felt like something was missing from the whole scene, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

She knew she recognized Synthia from somewhere, probably this very store, but she couldn’t remember how or why, or what they may have ever talked about. Something profound was missing, and she couldn’t dredge it up no matter how often Amber kept glancing at the clerk’s face.

It wasn’t until they were walking out the doors of the building, bags in hand, that it hit her.

If she couldn’t remember Synthia, it was because the part of her that had had those memories had been torn out of her at the theater.

Synthia had been her friend in the restroom! Which meant that she was an emanant!

She thought. Maybe. Hopefully.

Hopefully that emotion eater in that store wasn’t something more dangerous.

Amber turned and looked back at the clerk through the door.

Synthia was staring at them with a thoughtful expression.