#my life will return to normal next week so excuse this very brief interlude
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laineystein · 11 months ago
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No guilt, just gratitude. No guilt, just gratitude. No guilt…
We lost 21 chayalim today in Khan Younis, the area of Gaza I spent the past few weeks in…the same place I left Monday morning. I’m gutted. There are no words. I don’t know how much more we can take. עד מתי???
My husband and I drove up north to get away for a bit. We haven’t had much alone time since this fucking war started and he wanted to treat me so here we are. After everything this morning, I wasn’t going to share this but I spoke with my bubbe earlier and she assured me that I am doing the world a disservice by diminishing my joy right now. She asked me what we were all fighting for if not for our fellow Israelis to be able to live normal, happy, peaceful lives. My bubbe escaped Nazi Germany, fled to a war torn France, and then finally made her way back to Israel at 15 — so I think she knows what she’s talking about. She reminded me that life does not end when war starts and that it shouldn’t pause either. She reminded me that in this week’s parashah, when the Jews were caught between an army and the sea, they put their trust in Hashem and he guided them through. So I’m going to continue leaning into Hashem for guidance - no guilt, just gratitude.
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creativeskullcreations · 4 years ago
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Outside chapter 16: Therapy Sessions
And thus, we return to Outside! Starting with this brief interlude like chapter from someone completely new!
Update schedule is gonna be once every two weeks on Monday, just like before. As for Happy Times, that's gonna be on the back burner for a while so I can get this done, but I'll try and pop out another episode at some point.
So enjoy for now, and see ya;ll again later! :D
The puppet laid on the couch, flopped over like a discarded toy, eyes staring unblinking into space. If she didn't already know better, Trina would have assumed it was something one of her patients had left behind .
It, or rather she, wasn't a forgotten toy, however. She was her new patient, and, according to what another patient, Stacy, had told her, she had trust issues. But, she could work with that. And by that, she meant do paperwork until Scout was ready to talk.
Unfortunately, it seemed like that was taking a while. Before she knew it the whole hour had passed and the alarm had gone off. When Trina looked up from turning it off, the Puppet was gone, and the door was open. Ah well. She supposed she should prepare for her next patient, then.
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Once again, Scout was laying on the couch. A different position this time, and staring in a different direction. Trina resigned herself to more paperwork again, like the last few visits. Though she felt like they were making some progress. Sometimes she looked up and Scout was in a different position, or she was in the middle of blinking.
In her mind, that was a good thing. It meant the Puppet was starting to get comfortable with her. Maybe soon, she'd actually start talking.
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"Did you know Hosts can bleed without getting hurt?"
The question startled Trina, and she fumbled the pen onto her crossword book. "Excuse me?!"
"Yeah they do it naturally into the toilet! And into these weird giant soft band-aids that Stacy didn't want me to mess with." Scout reached down her shirt and pulled out a bright orange square. "Jokes on her, I took one anyways."
"Ah." It made sense, actually, that Scout would have no knowledge of the menstrual cycle. "And... did Stacy explain what they were for?"
"Nope! She just yelled a lot, and turned really red." She pulled the tape holding the wrapper closed off, then stuck it to the couch. "I asked Will why she wouldn't tell me, and he said it's because Stacy's a prude. And then she yelled at him."
"Did Will explain it to you?"
"No. Because he's also a prude. Stacy said so." There was a loud tearing sound as she slowly pulled the backing off of the pad, and Trina realized why Stacy had kicked her out of the bathroom. She also made a note to never let Scout into her bathroom.
And so, Trina spent the remaining forty-five minutes giving a sex-ed lesson to a living hand puppet. Not the weirdest session she'd ever had, of course, but it was certainly up there.
She just wished Scout hadn't stuck the pad to her keyboard.
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The next few sessions were spent answering whatever questions Scout had that for whatever reason, she couldn't ask Stacy. Whether it was about biology("But why is it brown?"), a question about porn("I just don't see the appeal of watching Hosts fucking."), or about movies("He was the best character! Why the fuck would they kill the best character!"). Most of the time, Trina would google it with her. But sometimes she would ask why she couldn't ask Stacy. Usually she'd get one of what felt like stock answers, but occasionally she'd go really quiet and only say:
"I just wanted to know what you thought about it. That's all."
And Trina would, outwardly, accept that. But she always made note of which questions were related to that answer to try and understand her better. She also started on a timeline, to try and get the two into a session together. It probably wouldn't happen soon, she wanted to try and get Scout talking about herself first. But once she'd made some progress there, they could try a joint session.
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It took another several weeks before Scout told her anything about herself. Although it wasn't what she expected.
"And then he gave me ice cream! And I ate it, because it was solid and delicious! But it fucking melts! And it's fucking gross!" She was raging, but in a way that almost made her look adorable. Not that Trina would tell her so, of course.
"And, why is it so bad that it melts?"
"Because it soaks in! Duh!" She looked thoroughly annoyed, and Trina felt a little bad for asking.
"What happened next?" She asked instead.
"Stacy and Will yelled at each other a lot, and then Stacy went to sleep on the couch. And then the next morning they locked themselves in the bedroom and wouldn't let me in while they made weird noises."
"Ah." Stacy had told her about that. It wasn't always the healthiest thing she could do, but Stacy genuinely thought it helped so Trina wasn't able to do much to dissuade her. "Did they come out at some point during the day?"
"Yeah, eventually! But it was boring as hell until then." A pause. "They banned me from Netflix, too, cause Stacy said what I was watching was a bad influence on me."
"Well that's too bad." She kept her tone sympathetic. "What else do you do during the day?"
"Watch TV."
"Besides that."
"Oh." Scout sat up, thinking. "Nothing- Well, I do hang out with Stacy a lot."
"Hmmm." Trina wrote that down in her notes. "Have you tried to find something other than TV? A hobby of some sort, or even a game to play?"
"I do play this game called Kirby sometimes." She admitted. "It's... kinda fun."
"Have you beaten it yet?"
"I mean... no..." She looked away, playing with the edge of her shirt.
"Maybe you should try and do that. Could be more fun than just watching Netflix all day." She kept her voice upbeat, and tried to figure out something else the Puppet could do besides TV.
"Maybe..." She looked around the room, eyes never stopping on one spot for too long.   Trina waited patiently, pen tapping lightly against her notebook. "... Something happened last night. Something... kinda bad."
"Oh?"
Scout nodded. "Sometimes, when Stacy wakes up and doesn't know where I am, she'll... take over my body. Not to do bad stuff though!" She was quick to assure when she Trina's face. "It's just to, y'know, see where I am. She gets worried when she can't find me."
Stacy had mentioned that. Apparently she now brought Scout everywhere with her, including to her programming job. "What made last night so different then."
"Well, normally I just sort of... float? I guess? When she does that. But, last night, I... woke up in her body."
Trina blinked. "Well, I suppose it makes sense that would happen-"
"No it fucking doesn't!" Scout shouted, cutting her off. "It's a bad thing! Very fucking bad!"
"Well, why do you say that?"
"Because it means that our fucked up link is evolving!" Scout told her in a 'duh' tone of voice. "Who knows how it could change from here!"
"Is it possible that you've always been able to do that, but just never did before now?" Trina asked.
That gave her pause, and seemed to calm her down a bit. "... I don't know. Maybe." She shrugged. "I... never really wanted to try before..."
Trina nodded, adding another note to her paper. "What happened next after you... woke up in Stacy's body."
"Well, we both flipped our shit, which woke Will up and then he flipped his shit. And then he and Stacy yelled for a while before he left and we managed to, uh, swap back." Scout scratched the side of her head, thinking. "And then Will came back with something, and he and Stacy fought some more."
"What did they fight about?"
"The thing Will brought back. It's some sort of a toy, like a psychic test." She scowled. "He made us sit there and do it, right then."
"The Waygetter one?" At Scout's confused look, she waved the question away. "Never mind. What were the results?"
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"100 percent psychically linked." Stacy said, arms folded and stoic look on her face. "Not that I didn't already suspect, but I'd prefer a real test to a Waygetter "toy"."
"Of course you would, considering your past." Trina said, jotting down notes. "Did anything happen after that?"
The young woman shrugged. "Not a lot, mostly just went back to bed. I thought about banishing Will to the couch for his betrayal, but decided against it."
"Good." She nodded. "Banishing him over something so small, and when he was just trying to help, could lead to resentment building up later on."
"Yeah yeah." She kept her arms crossed, eyes trained on the floor. "Scout was pretty upset about it, though. But she's upset about a lot of stuff cause she feels guilty."
"Really now?" Trina jotted that down. "How do you know about that?"
"Psychic link." Stacy raised a single eyebrow. "Duh."
Trina sighed. "Has anything else happened lately? Made any friends at your job?"
"Not really." She shrugged. "This one woman, Chell, talks to me sometimes. She knows sign language, which is kinda cool I guess. But, I wouldn't say we're friends."
"Maybe you should focus on making friends with her. It seems like you two already have something in common already."
"Mm." Stacy looked away, tapping the fingers of her prosthetic against her flesh arm. It was pretty scary to look at, but it didn't stop her from wearing a spaghetti strap, leaving the limb on full display. Trina had also taken note of that, attributing it more to the woman's anti-social behavior than confidence or a strong body image.
"You can't rely on Will's friends forever, Stacy." She told her. "You need a life outside of him. It's not healthy to center everything around him."
"Easy not to lose everything if you don't have anything." She retorted. "I have Will, and I have Scout. They're all I need for now."
"What about your brother?" She looked away. "Or your father? Have you talked to either of them recently?" Silence was the answer, and Trina only sighed, used to it by now. "Your homework this week is to call your family for once. You need to repair your connections to them."
"I need to convince Scout to drop her guilt."
"That's my job." Trina gave a small smile that went ignored. "I'm serious about talking to your family though. Especially if you plan on getting into more... situations like this one. How would Danny feel if you died, and nobody would tell him anything about it?"
Stacy shrugged, and Trina sighed again. "Call your father. Text your brother. Make a new friend. Do one of these three things before our next appointment, okay?" She ordered as the timer dinged, signalling the end.
"Fine." The woman ground out, standing up and straightening her top. She accepted the offered prescription, then left the room. She stopped just briefly to grab her bag from Molly, the receptionist, and then went out to her truck. Scout popped out of the bag as she exited the building, and Trina sighed as she watched them.
They truly were an odd pair, and Trina hoped things worked out for them. She certainly couldn't imagine it could get any worse, anyways.
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