Astronomika - Shooting Down Falling Stars (IC)

[Verg Avesta]

Hisa Momoi
Location: Pinefall High - Campus Grounds
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

“Excuse the intrusion, but this school isn’t exactly a tourist attraction, nor does it seem that you exactly have the consent of the faculty. So what might you be doing? If you were so interested in something, wouldn’t it be easier to ask anyways?”

The sudden voice of a girl cutting into the tense atmosphere produced two reactions, one from each of the guys present. Jake, who had been glaring at the older man with frustration (after having clearly said something to him and gotten no response) did a double-take, and then hurriedly walked over to Hisa and shielded her from the rain with the umbrella... though it was a bit late to avoid getting soaked. Still, it was a nice enough gesture, and there even was a hint of a smile flashing on the young man's face as he recognized her.

"Hey, dudette - how's the morning going? Listen, uh, you came at a good and not-so-good time. I swear this guy..." Jake said, glancing back towards the older man. "I just can't get him to listen."

Indeed, that had been the second reaction Hisa had produced.

The utter lack of one, that is.

The strange pudgy man in a raincoat and sunglasses hadn't even glanced at the girl, still intent to taking more pictures of the main building, focusing on the clock tower especially as he let the flash of his expensive-looking camera sing like a rapid machine-gun fire.

Jake, seeing that, groaned again.

"Hey, you! Douchebag! It's one thing to ignore me, but when a dudette speaks to you, a man answers!" Jake said, frowning magnificently. "So would it be too much to ask you not to be such an A-hole? 'Cause if you do, I swear I'm calling the cops..."

That threat seemed to, finally, elicit some sort of response. The man let out a sigh and put away his camera, hiding it and its plastic-bag cover underneath his raincoat. Then he turned around, peering through his more than a little ridiculous sunglasses at the two of them. It wasn't even summer anymore, and sunshine hadn't been exactly in high supply lately. So why was he wearing them? What was even the point? Did he have sensitive eyes.

"Oh dear, oh dear, that won't do at all. Police? I'm a law-abiding citizen, I'll have you know. Photographing private property from within the public domain is not illegal, with the exception of an area that is generally regarded as private - and an old building like this certainly does not count. Besides, I'm showing tact by not photographing inside, not even mentioning actually private areas such as bathrooms or the student dormitory," the man responded with a slightly wheezy voice and wiped sweat from his forehead. "In other words, I'm simply exercising my right as a citizen of this fine country, this US of A, and if you threaten me with false accusations and police brutality, I will make sure my editor hears of this - and then you'll be in deep trouble, young man."

Jake, looking like he wanted to give the guy a good smack, glanced at Hisa and rolled his eyes, as if to say "See what I've been dealing with here?".

"But you're right, you're right. I should show some manners, especially now that there are minors present," the man said and walked over to Jake and Hisa. "Ah, here you go, young lady. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He stuck his hand into his pocket and drew out what looked to be a business card... a very flimsy, very low-quality one. There was some sort of incomprehensible logo plasted over half of the card, and the only readable part one could make out was the company name:

Out There Publishing.

"That's right. I'm from the Out There Publishing. Not just that, but I'm a reporter for their most successful tabloid - that is, the Truthspeaker Monthly. Though I'm sure you already know of it," the man said with a smug little smile. "The name's Keyhoe - Barney Keyhoe. A model citizen, seeker of the real, a speaker of truth and the enemy of all the lies our government tells us to keep us docile and placated - and without any idea of the real stuff that goes on behind the closed doors of Pentagon. A pleasure to meet you, young lady."

He stuck his large hand for Hisa to shake, while ignoring Jake's glare.

"Say, young lady - you wouldn't happen to have time to answer a few questions for me? Just for this article I'm writing..."

His hand looked sweaty as well.

New Person Met!

[Frantic Author]

Alexstrasza Lockhart
Location: Pinefall High Dormitory - Kitchen
Phase: Evening Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Overcast

"A-ha-ha-ha-haa~"

Potemkin's disgusting laugh was like cockroaches crawling on my skin. She was a sleazy thing, attached to reality only by the fine thing we call 'chance', and her very existence was a thorn in my side. It is not surprising in the least, that every action she takes grates on my nerves, and that every time she opens her mouth it's like nails on a chalkboard for me.

We are the same.

I want to reject it, but we are the same. At the core, somehow, inside of all the doublespeak and lies, we are the same.

"Yeah, sure, sure, whatever you say you gigantic nerd. No repressed stuff whatsoever, no sirree. I mean, it's not like you spent good ten minutes letting your tongue wiggle-waggle that guy's nipples last night. Or that the very reason I'm like this is because you're so backed up I'm afraid for any guy who gets you off for the first time - it's gonna be like taking a firehose to the face, I tell you. But suuuure, nothing repressed whatsoever! Sure, let's go with that! Self-denial is always healthy, as is denying everything you don't consider proper and putting yourself through the wringer just 'cause you're so afraid of letting loose a little bit!"

"As always," I muttered in the midst of her incessant need to make herself appear like the smartest person in the room, jabbering on and on about nothing in particular. "You choose the words that would disgust me the most."

She prescribed lewd intent to an action of pure survival. Potemkin was truly a pitiable creature. I needed blood. I took it. It was a transaction, a transaction. Give and take, yes? You scratch my back, I scratch yours, isn't it?

I was starving, so he saved me.

He was dying, so I saved him.

This isn't anywhere near as complicated of a relationship as Potemkin's vague rants pretend it is.

"--- And I'm not speaking of letting loose like you did back at school. That's just another form of denial, fatso. It's not like you ever ever satisfied, and that's because wanton murder wasn't what you needed. Nah, what you need isn't something as edgy as that. It's more of the stuff you'd find in Moomins. But you're so afraid of it you just shut it off, pile it on me, and whoops! Here we are. But whatever floats your boat, Tons of Fun. We can play this denial game for as long as you want~!"

It's fascinating, the sheer level of denial that apparently exists in my soul. I can't help but want to study it, to be around Potemkin, in spite of how much she disgusts me. Because I am a monster, i killed. Because I am a monster, they died. All other scenarios are simply pretense and self-delusion, are they not? I enjoyed it, didn't I? The blood. The screaming. The suffering.

...Didn't I?

Damnation. I have no desire to revisit those memories, to trudge through my bloodstained past with a fine-toothed comb simply to prove Potemkin wrong. But even so...

Even so--!!

I'll do it! This idiot can't be right about anything! She's so mired in her delusions of lewd grandeur that she's applying them to all facets of life! The possibility that there aren't lewd intentions just doesn't exist her!

"Though I guess it'll make that whole 'allies' thing so much harder. You can't even ask help from a person in a normal way, so it's not like anyone's going to help you! A-ha-ha-ha-haa~! It'll be a total disaster, won't it! Fun to look at, though. You should count yourself lucky Mr. Thug-life over here was so nice to help you out even when you were being total spaz about it."

I can't fathom any of these thoughts being in my head. I can't fathom any of these desires being in my heart. And yet, both are gifted to me by Potemkin. These intentions are at my very core? My essence? It's doubtful, to me.

I feel nothing when I look at Devon.

I feel nothing when I look at Travis.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Countless faces, a blurred page, a fragmented sequence of images in my mind that are supposed to represent 'friends'. 'Hopes'. 'Dreams.' It's all such nonsense, beyond tiresome in all aspects. I did not become who I was because I wanted to shiver on bedsheets in pleasure.

Countless hours. Countless years. Suffering. Thinking. Becoming. Casting. Learning. I am more then a decade removed from that past in the orphanage, and yet...

That small girl whose only friend was a spider...

Tch. Memories are so useless. I looked Potemkin in the eye, at her grayscale skin and pitch black hair, in the bleakness of the kitchen, and smiled. After all, if there was anything I had learned, it was this:

Potemkin always lies.

"... I think he wants to do it with you, right? Got the hots for some sweaty nerd action."

"You ascribe intent where there is emptiness, as always," I said with a sigh. "To you, at the heart of everything is sexuality. Isn't this simply a lie, looking at our past? Looking at the people we've met? Even the turnside itself tells you that this isn't true, and that is what created us, is it not?"

I spread out my arms wide, and smiled brightly at Potemkin.

"At the heart of everything is violence."

It's so succinct it's brilliant. Let me set the scene for you:

There is a city, located in between two rivers. The people of this city are intelligent, brilliant people - the first civilization ever recorded in human history. Magic, maths, scholarship, even agriculture; this was the first quintessential 'civilization' in human history. But this city is besieged, plagued by banditry and brigands, raiders and rapers. Every year they come and they take, and the citizenry suffers. Then, one day, a great man appears at the city's gates, with a massive army of barbarians behind him. The leaders look at him with fear, but he smiles. He tells them - I will not kill you, if you make me your king.

In order to take a kingdom, he threatened to slaughter a city.

Violence. That symphony of blood and deadly intent. Without it, humankind would not exist. Without it, I would not exist. This core, this framework, is what reality assures me exists, no matter Potemkin's delusions.

"I can't fathom it," I said to her. "How did you come from me? The core of what I am is missing, isn't it? Mana. Prana. Violence. The reason we're ill at ease in this mixed up world rightside up is because the intent isn't there. Where's the shiver down your spine when you dredge up the audacity to speak to me the way you do? It's missing, because there's no threat of violence. Without that implicit threat, society would cease to function. It would be like what you believe it to be, even; a place made solely for pleasure and spreading one's legs."

This world is indulgent. Callous. Cruel beyond recognition. Reversed like it is, it's just as Potemkin describes it. Boring. Sexual. Perverse. There's no meaning in any interactions, just drifting aimlessly from one location to the next. When I was a girl and read about the world outside the orphanage, it seemed so fascinating to me. So large and brilliant, so amazing that I couldn't even fathom it. When I discovered the reality...

I was so disappointed.

"Travis doesn't have the same lewd intentions you do anyways," I said, rolling my eyes as I crossed my arms. "He's too pure of heart for that sort of thing."

[Verg Avesta]

Alexstrasza Lockhart
Location: Pinefall High Dormitory - Kitchen
Phase: Evening Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Overcast

"..........................."

For once, Potemkin's expression changed.

For once, she wasn't laughing.

For once, she wasn't sneering.

No, this time...

... Hers was the look of utter boredom as she gazed upon Alexstrasza Lockhart - the base from which she came from.

"Violence...?"

Her impassive words were accompanied by a sigh... a long and tired sigh, very ill-fitting of a transient creature such as her. With a single step, she began to wobble from side to side. Then another, then another. Slowly, like a sleep-walker, she made her way to where Alexstrasza stood. Her powerless noodle arm rose and without warning, it flopped against the blonde girl's head, catching those wheat-colored locks into a grip that was far too easy to break. She leaned closer, craning her neck and tilting her head in an inhuman manner, those pools of utter blackness staring into Alexstrasza's eyes without mercy.

Like Potemking had been looking at a total idiot.

"Hey, Alexstrasza. Since when did you get any satisfaction from violence? Last week? When you cried and pleaded on the ground, pounded by rain, and then turned around and lorded your power over that executor the first chance you got? When you asked for mercy but gave none in return? Did it feel good, being a hypocrite? Oh, wait, maybe it did!" Potemkin said, her voice that of a person sick of the shit of the girl in front of her. "Just like burning and killing that village. Yeah, that sure felt good, didn't it? Those humans who had done nothing to you. You sure showed how powerful you were to them. Those who didn't even understand who you were and what you were here for. Because that's all it was to you. A random act of cruelty. You didn't have any reason, nor any goal - and you didn't feel anything about it afterwards. Oh, whoops... right. You didn't feel anything. You didn't even feel good. You never feel good. You never feel happy. You never feel actually cheerful. You just smile because that's all you can do."

There was strange sort of pressure. The being in front of Alexstrasza was weaker than a human baby. She could have slaughtered Potemkin with one slash from her claws.

But still, that monochrome beast of soul radiated a certain of sort of pressure.

One completely independent from any sort of physical or magical strength.

"Yeah... that's so, isn't it? Violence has never given you anything. Not enjoyment, not sadness, not bitterness, not even a momentary pleasure. The only thing it's done is prove to the Holy Church you're exactly the monster they hunt, and then you have the audacity to blame them for hunting you. Like, isn't that actually kinda hilarious? Every step you take, you prove you're a monster, and then you claim that you aren't and that the one's hunting you are just lapdogs of a god you don't understand? Face it, Alexstrasza... it's not about any god or anything. You're just a meaningless danger to everything, and that's why they hunt you. Not because you're an affront to their Lord or anything. That's just you, as usual, deluding yourself into thinking that you're oh-so-important," Potemkin continued, with lips of someone who was done screwing around. "You're just a rabid dog - no, not even that. A rabid dog acts because it's ill, because it's hurting. You just do things without reason. Like... a virus. A meaningless virus. That's what you are. And always have been. Because you refuse to try those things you once enjoyed, and think yourself above them. Because you think violence has ever given you anything. But it hasn't."

Another hand raised. Along with the index finger.

And it was pressed deep into Alexstrasza's chest, though without any power.

Just pushing against her clothes and her skin.

"----- Except for this biiiig, daaark, empty hole you got here."

The grin came back, but without humour.

There was no laughter in Potemkin's eyes anymore.

"You say I'm spreading my hole for everyone, but you're the only one who's walking around with it on full display," she practically spat out. "As far as I'm concerned, you're the most shameless bitch there is. Because you have the audacity to think that you've got the moral high ground on anyone."

Next came back the laughter... but it was without humour as well.

Just bitter drops of noise.

"Did you really not realize why I'm so weak? Are you really that daft? I'm the part of you that you deny - the part that you shove aside for absolutely nothing in return. I'm so shriveled up and non-existent that I couldn't even kill a rabbit with my bare hands. And I exhibit the few last sparks of whatever base enjoyment you might have had left. That's all there is. Because physical happiness is all that you've got, cause that's the one thing you can't artificially shove into the back of your mind to die," Potemkin said, mocking the blonde with every word. "Because you preach a world-view that wasn't your own. You just adapted it. But you never understood it. You never thought about why violence is used. You saw the method, but not the motivation. You thought the mechanical act was enough, but it wasn't. So all you got left was nothing. That's why they sent you here. You? Kill a Named Demon? A-ha. A-ha-ha-ha-ha. We both know you can't. That's not what this mission was about. You were just... useless. You gained all the knowledge and skill necessary, but had nothing to motivate it. Therefore, you were just like a sword, forgotten and left in the broom closet. So here you are then. Sent here. To die. Because something as useless as you isn't needed. Because everyone in that school hated your guts more than anything else you sick freak."

Finally, finally, Potemkin let go of her reflection.

And in that moment, she looked more monochrome than ever.

More colorless than ever.

Because there was nothing to color her in the soul she had sprung from.

"You separated me from yourself instinctively, because that's what you do. You fear your own emotions so much that you run away from them. And that's what that spell was. You running. From the smiles you had seen here. From the feelings they made you feel. From the fact that for once in your life, you were enjoying something, and you couldn't understand it. Your friendship with John Dove and Mercedes West. Your faint, trembling attraction to more than a couple of people. Your responsibility and love for Cesarina Feroce. You were afraid of it all. And so you saw a chance, and ran. And left me behind. And here I am. The eternal reminder for you that by doing all that you did, sacrificing all that you did, forgetting all that you did... you achieved nothing."

With a big smile, Potemkin took a step back.

She raised her hands to the sides, like a ballerina about to take a bow.

"--- Let's face it, Alexstrasza Lockhart."

Yet she never did.

For she was here to stay.

"I'm more you than you have ever been in your life so far."

[Katie]

Lucille Faraday
Location: Pinefall High Cafeteria
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

"U-um... I-I think she might be a bit mads at you, Lucie. For realsies."

I can see that.

Truthfully, Lucille wishes she could have gone a little longer without encountering Mercedes West. One, because she is busy, and two, she is busy with things that are important, and she does not like how dismissive or spiteful Mercedes is about it. Three, it’s better for the starlet to not be involved with her, period, until everything is settled. Where does she drag her in?

Elise’s demon? The fact she, herself, is haunted? The less she knows, the better. Lucille is well aware she is not exactly the pinnacle of a good friend, but she understands that friends in general don’t drag other friends into terrible situations.

She sighs, the lament of a person who has made a terrible decision.

“I thought it’d be better if you didn’t have to deal with my problems,” she simply concludes, relying on classic half-truths to get her point across. “We’re friends, but being friends doesn’t mean you’re privy to every skeleton in my closet.”

Maybe in another time or place Lucille would be more apologetic about the matter, but she is not in the mood.

She is doing the right thing. Of all of the things that happened that made her question her own justice, she is certain that this decision is the correct one.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been shutting you out lately, but there’s something called a sense of privacy, isn’t there?”

[Airen]

Liana Skye
Location: Owl's Nest Hotel - Dining Area
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

"I'd like to try that coffee he's having, if that's alright ma'am."

---Naturally polite as ever, Liana makes a simple request of the older waitress.

Ordinarily she might have simply turned down the offer and said no -content as she was with her current conversation with Scottie- but there are only so many times someone can sigh in contentment in front of you before you just have to know what all the fuss is about, and so the girl makes her request with a perfect smile, before turning her eyes back to the man before her, who...

"Roxie, I've just realized I've badmouthed our fellow employees of the federal government. Can you make an order for a few boxes of chocolate - not the expensive ones. The ones that you said made me look like a 'posh prick' if I remember correctly. Get the decent ones from that confectionery at the mall - you remember the place, right? Oh, and buy yourself a separate box. Put them all on my bill, as usual."

"Hahaha~"

Seemed to find some mild amusement in accidentally insulting his coworkers in front of her.

"'Posh Prick' huh? That's pretty funny~!"

Amusement that she can't help but share in, more because of the way he had handled it than anything else-!

"No need to look too proper in front of me, Mr. Federal Agent," winking, she pushes her plate slightly to the side as she leans forward again, "I won't tell your boss you're badmouthing your coworkers, I appreciate the honesty, really~"

No work environment was perfect.

There was always going to be someone around that just rubbed you the wrong way-!

"Now then, where were we... ah, yes. The mystery of the letter B in the thigh of our recently departed," Ferguson continued as if nothing had happened, taking a sip of his coffee. "A rather simple way to try and identify your killer, but worth looking into. And considering the angle and the tissue underneath her finger nail, it really was she who put it there, not the killer to throw us off their tail."

Of course, things get more serious after that, and she listens to him with interlocked fingers, head resting on her hands.

"Of course, here we are faced with another problem. As it happens, Road's End is home to a rather large amount of people who have 'B' as one of their initials, even among those who are even tangentially connected to Elizaveta Vyraj," he explained. "Why, your school has three already, if I understand correctly."

"...Well, even in a town this small, I suppose it was inevitable."

She sighs.

"Those sorts of clues are always a bit too open ended, but I guess it's something..."

Then leans back in her seat, eyes closing and arms crossing as she moves to fulfill the role he obviously expects her to fulfill, namely...

Identification of the three B's at the school...

Of course, she hadn't spent too much time with the students after the Test of Courage, there was simply too much she needed to do in a far too small timespan, and the people she had found outside of the school seemed to like her more than many of the students within, an understandable reaction, considering the phenomena they had gotten themselves stuck in making her presence inherently suspicious, still...

It was only natural she would favor spending time outside of it, considering the reality of things...

...Hard to trust a school that full of the Turnside too, didn't have proof of it, but she was sure there were at least a few familiars or ESPer thought forms running around spying on people, and well...

No thanks.

But putting all that aside...

"Three... Sounds about right."

She frowns, then after a moment's more of thought, raises a single finger in the air.

"Bahkauv, Gabi. Bit of a shy kid from what I've seen, not good at standing in front of the class, freezes like a deer in headlights."

A nod (more to herself than him) then the second finger.

"Hwan, Bin... Don't know much about him... Kinda rude I guess, but that's not really grounds for anything, not that I think any of the students did it mind you."

She shrugs, then-

"And Jake Briggs, the Janitor..."

-that name, yes...

That one brought back memories of a night she wants to forget, and had mostly forgotten, right up until now...

She lets out a bit of a hissing noise, a slight one, like air escaping from a balloon, and...

"He's the type of adult that would prank a child, so... Awful, just awful."

...A surprisingly harsh condemnation?!

She lets it sit for awhile, a good handful of seconds as if this was the point she really wanted to make, one leg crossed over the other in a show of casual airs, before cracking a smile and...

"But pushing that aside, he's alright I guess. Funny guy."

A laugh, albeit one that is a bit less energetic than the others.

---Recalling that night was no good, hurt to think about it.

"How many people outside of the school?"

Might as well ask.

[Spinach]

Colt Davin
Location: Pinefall High Cafeteria
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

"Sorry about her, guys... Hisa's a good girl, but also a bit of a loner. I... I think she just needs some time to get used to big groups. She's had hard enough time trusting us, so being suddenly thrust into a situation like this, well... it can't be easy for her, you know? I'm sure if we just give her some time and ease her into it, she'll learn to feel at ease even in moments like these. I'll try my best to help her with that, buth, gah..."

Pyry groaned.

"How the heck am I supposed to even start at that...?"

“Well you should know by now that you don’t need to apologize to me on her behalf, Pyry.“ Colt chimed in, showing himself to be none too perturbed by things. “But really, a lonely girl who fancies being alone, you have your work cut out for you there, brother.”

"Hmm, well, I guess for starters, we need to give Hizzie time! Plus, y'know, mabbe start with smaller groups? I-I'd be a bit overwhelmed too if I wasn't who I am. Plus, y'know, things aren't exactly all hunky-dory right now in general, so maybe she's just stressing out more so than usual... Hmm... that's a toughie if anything..."

“Bingo.” Colt pointed up, then tilted his wrist 90 degrees so that his index finger fell to point onto Ubon who had just hit the nail on the head. “Bingo and bingo.”

Here he thought she was just a hyperactive airhead, but maybe she paid more attention to her friends than he thought.

Not that Colt Davin had room to question how much attention his classmates were paying to each other. He’s the one who had barely spent any time with them last week, then skipped school every day this week. Even now he was having his first actual conversation with Ubon.

“Y’may’ve noticed it, but I’m pretty good at avoiding people, what with skipping class multiple times in a row.” Colt shot a glance over at Prushka, who had inquired about just that before Hisa lightly changed the topic with her making it obvious that she wasn’t interested in hanging out. “I’m just peachy, by the way, had to take care of some stuff, and I’m not really interested in taking repeat classes.”

Come to think of it, was she one of the ones who can remember?

“Anyway, what I was getting to there, Pyry, is that not everyone feels like they fit. Even if from your perspective, they seem like they’d slide right in with the group just right, from their point of view you’re just jamming a square into a circle shaped hole.” He paused for a second to think that metaphor out. “And yeah, I get the feeling she’s not exactly interested in… making friends, right now. You can make an easy case for now being a bad time to take it easy like this.”

But you could just as well make a case for it being the perfect time to try and catch a break.

Much like Pyry, Colt leaned back in his chair. Both hands behind his head as he thought it out. Tris spoke up in the void left behind, eventually pushing her nearly overflowing plate of bacon to the center of the table for sharing. Soon after she introduced herself again, this time more reservedly.

Bless her heart.

Colt spared a glance at the terrifying Mercedes West, the one who had shaken poor Tris so much. She and Lucille were having a bit of a moment, oddly in front of everyone else, though he supposed there was no better or worse place to have it. For just a few seconds the boy listened in, then grimaced at something Lucille said, and quickly turned away.

'Stay out of that, Colt Davin.' Spoke both the angel and the devil that visited his shoulders in times of great indecision and danger. 'Stay far, far away.'

He nodded.

All the while Tris had gotten to talking to the rest of the students. Surprisingly, Elise had apparently met that partner of hers. U-Salem, an odd name to be sure. Tris seemed perfectly capable of pursuing the lead herself, so the young man left her to it.

Instead he leaned over to Gradient.

“Hey, whaddya think?” And asked her for advice. “Should we do something about Hisa?”

[Thalraxal]

Elise Pelltier
Location: Pinefall High Cafeteria
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

"Sorry about her, guys... Hisa's a good girl, but also a bit of a loner. I... I think she just needs some time to get used to big groups. She's had hard enough time trusting us, so being suddenly thrust into a situation like this, well... it can't be easy for her, you know? I'm sure if we just give her some time and ease her into it, she'll learn to feel at ease even in moments like these. I'll try my best to help her with that, but, gah..."

"Hmm, well, I guess for starters, we need to give Hizzie time! Plus, y'know, mabbe start with smaller groups? I-I'd be a bit overwhelmed too if I wasn't who I am. Plus, y'know, things aren't exactly all hunky-dory right now in general, so maybe she's just stressing out more so than usual... Hmm... that's a toughie if anything..."

"...I'd say she needs time, but there's not much of that left. Maybe sharing the load would do her good. If she's got a lot on her plate, trying to handle it herself is only gonna lead to stomachache. Not that I'm one to talk..."

"Mhm, yeah, I've found that Hisa can be a bit slow to open up to people, and I think she finds big groups a little intimidating. Either way though, she finds dealing with a lot of people at once to be particularly exhausting for her," said Elise, taking one last glance to the cafeteria door, "I don't think it's like a muscle you can just exercise though. At the very least, I'm pretty sure that social endurance training isn't a thing. I think all we can do is just give her the time and space she needs to be able to be comfortable with all of us at once."

Like Prushka said though, time isn't something we've got a whole lot of. Maybe we can just get her a bunch of Jolt Colas from the store to help her last through a long discussion with a larger group?

"A-and oh! Thou art familiar with mine compatriot, then? Forsooth! Indeed, he art mine comrade-in-arms, the one and only U-Salem! Tell me, whereforth thou hast seen him last? I hath been looking for his countenance for some time now! We wereth separated when I, ah... m-met Colt Davin here on one of mine midnight forest walks! A-and the situation becameth slightly dire, so I hath not the time to look for him afterwards..."

Elise hastily extracted some bacon from Bacon Mountain, holding her prize between her fork and knife and delivered it safely to her plate, where it joined the rest of her breakfast.

"Yeah! I met him two nights ago, on Wednesday. He was by the pool in the Pool Building," replied Elise with a nervous glance towards Inacio who was there too, "He'd lost his wallet and was trying to fish it out with some fancy fishing gear, but wasn't having much luck. I dove into the pool and got his wallet back for him, and sent him on his way. I'm sorry, but I'm not sure where he went after that though. He left the Pool Building by the back door in the gymnasium. I warned him to stay clear of the Dormitory and Outbuilding on campus, oh, and, uh, the beach too, since there was a lot of students out and about that night, and I was worried he might accidentally scare someone."

Or be roasted and devoured by hungry students around a bonfire by mistake.

Tristellia Sem Zoirvit, Knightess of Symzonia… thought Elise as she continued to ponder the identity of the bacon hoarder, Symzonia. Wait. She can't possibly mean that Symzonia.

"You said Symzonia, right? Like Symzonia, an ancient civilization from under the surface of the Earth?" asked Elise incredulously, "I- uh-"

I'm pretty sure that's an entirely fictional location.

"-thought that Symzonians didn't, uh, approve of martial pursuits?"

And were also fictional.

Prushka shuffled her chair a little closer to her and Elise felt her nudge her leg with hers. There was a knock on the door to her mind. Vier had just slunk through that door undetected by her. Hisa had just taken a battering ram to the same door. Prushka's polite knock was a nice change of pace, but Elise tensed instinctively regardless. Before answering Prushka's call, she looked inside her mind to the demon, and found it licking its chops suggestively, in eager anticipation of their fresh, new guest.

Wait.

Wait.

No.

With considerable relief she realized that LBJ was just messing with her. Elise relaxed, and breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed as she prepared to answer the door in her mind.

I don't think it'll lash out at Prushka for visiting my brain. At least not like it did to Vier and Hisa. It knows we'll likely need her help if we want to help Lucille. I think I can trust it to stay quiet. That said though, I'm certain that LBJ's going to listen in intently on everything we say here, but that's just par for the course isn't it?

With that, Elise answered the door.

["Uh, hello?"]

“I thought it’d be better if you didn’t have to deal with my problems. We’re friends, but being friends doesn’t mean you’re privy to every skeleton in my closet.”

Elise caught a snippet of Lucille's conversation with Mercedes, she glanced in her direction with a worried frown.

You don't even have a skeleton in your closet, Lucille. It's an anatomical model skeleton that you've mistaken for a real one. ["Er, wait. Is this thing on?"] asked Elise, unsure of how much of her internal monologue Prushka was currently privy too.

[Frantic Author]

Alexstrasza Lockhart
Location: Pinefall High Dormitory - Kitchen
Phase: Evening Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Overcast

"By God, I see now!" I said, clasping my hands in delight, staring at Potemkin with shining, sparkling eyes. "Truly, my life is changed by you!"

I stopped smiling.

"As if."

It's not that I don't understand what Potemkin is. It's only natural. Even if it's a stain on my soul, even if it's something I despise, how can I just let it go? It's part of me, in the end. Even if I hate it, it's a part of me. Weakness. Emotions. That endless pain we call existence. All those aspects that I shoved aside, have all been collapsed, coalesced into a tidy little being that doesn't even want to be alive.

"In the end, I am myself," I said, staring at Potemkin. "And you are me. Equals and opposites, the same yet inconsolably different. But it's not such a happy place in my head, is it? I'm sorry. I really never meant for you to exist. If I could take it away, I would."

I ran a finger against the counter top, rubbing the non-existent dust on my hand as I let out a sigh. It's empty. Is that even a surprise? No, isn't it just what I expected?

"Fear. Self-loathing. Powerlessness. How many things did I cast aside, to chase after teacher? How many things did I throw away, to walk through hell?" I looked at her with a pitying smile, at her pure white skin and pitch black hair. Potemkin was me, even if she wasn't. She found joy in the things I did, even if she couldn't do them herself. "You're all of them at once, right? It wasn't just happy emotions I threw away to stand on that mountain of suffering."

I snapped my fingers, a small tendril of flame dancing along my hand as I watched it with a fond smile, seeing it tangle itself along my arm, feeling the heat against my skin that didn't burn. It looped around my forearm twice, before circling back up, the end of it dancing idly across my fingertips. I looked up at Potemkin, extinguishing the fire from my arm.

"Never achieved anything? Perhaps not to you, trapped as you are in that mire of self-hatred and despair that I cast aside. But what haven't we achieved? What can't we do? What's out of our reach? How far can we go? All these things you're talking about... Didn't we choose to be driven by something better then emotions after the orphanage?"

Once in a generation.

Once in a millennium.

"Other people? Were we ever really as desperate as you want us to be for them to love us? To care for us?" I tilted my head, dangling a finger as a line of shadow dripped down it, a small spider forming at the end. "Did we ever really think about that?"

The spider climbed up the web, skittering across my skin and up my shirtsleeve. It crossed my collarbone, finally settling on my cheek as I stared at Potemkin, an aberration of an aberration. An exact replica of everything I ignored about myself, all the repression that I had bled to stand where I am right now. How was it that saying went again? Ah, yes.

Stand tall, for you are looking down a mountain made of ten thousand years of corpses.

"Scorched Earth. Silent Black. Impaler. How long did we dream of making a name for ourselves? How long did we claw for recognition? How long did we struggle, to be seen for what we are?"

I smiled at her, full of teeth as I looked at someone who I always, now and forever, would be.

"You say it's impossible for us to kill a Named Demon. And yet, isn't that everything we do in the first place? Every action. Every movement. Every breath. Isn't our entire life, leading up to this point, the very definition of impossible?"

It's impossible for you to escape the orphanage. Know your place. It's impossible for you to meet that teacher. Know your place. It's impossible for you to learn that spell. Know your place. It's impossible for you to be recognized. Know your place.

I'm tired of trying to find whatever damned place they keep telling me to know.

"Ever since I was born, I have always been me," I said, as the spider skittered to the top of my head. "There is no one else. There's no prince on a white horse waiting to sweep us off our feet. There's no hero coming to slay us. There's no demon king asking for our allegiance. There's not even a God trying to change who we are. The only thing that we can rely on is ourselves."

The things I've done are mine. The crimes I've committed are mine. The sins I bear are mine. It's not a burden for anyone else to bear in the first place.

"I am you. You are me. There's not one side of us that's better or worse then the other. Even if I find you annoying, even if you find me disgusting, we're the same. If you say I'm running, then isn't that wrong? Isn't it us that's running?"

This last speck of my humanity... Please. As if I was going to just toss it aside like garbage. Even if it feels like a stain on my soul, that's fine.

Potemkin always lies.

Potemkin always lies.

No, it's even more depressing. Even more naive, more embarrassing, more useless then Potemkin.

I

Alexstrasza

always

lie

lies

.

"If you want me to enjoy things, you're going to have to explain them to me," I said, hopping up onto the countertop and crossing my legs. The spider skittered across my face, shadowy legs brushing past my lips as it huddled behind my left ear. "If you think the way we view the world is wrong, then you'll have to tell me why. Think about all we left behind on our way to the top. Do you really think that little girl could stand here with us?"

A girl whose only friend was a spider in a cupboard.

"Do you think she could even comprehend the sacrifices we had to make?"

A girl whose only joy was reading books of magic.

"If you're forgetting our founding memories, our basis, do you need me to remind you?"

A girl who was beaten. A girl who went days without eating. A girl who was never able to make any friends, only things that were less then enemies.

I let out a sigh, propping my chin up on my leg as I leaned against it, my hair falling over my fingers as the spider scrambled back to the top of my head.

"Are you saying Caretaker was wrong? What exactly do you want me to say?" I paused, tapping my finger as I put on an even faker smile then usual. "'Oh, you're right!' How many days, Potemkin, did we spend bleeding for him? How many months, did we spend crawling for his approval? Every dish at that damn table was our goal."

I smiled with too many teeth.

"And we ate them all. Even the bad ones, the ones that we didn't like. Until we were kicked out because they thought we would kill them for their sins. What a brilliant ending, right?!" I laughed, long and loud, a delighted sound that didn't belong on my lips or in my soul. "We did it all just so that they'd treat us like they did when we were young, but instead we were thrown to the wayside!"

What a monster, they said. What a monster, to maim the other contestants in the castle. What a monster, I bet she wants the caretaker's head. I don't! I didn't! I just wanted him to look at me like he did when I was young again! I wanted him to give me books and ruffle my hair, to praise me and teach me new things, to make me feel...

Feel...

...What was that word I'm looking for? Is it nostalgic?

"If violence isn't the answer, give me another one. Give me one that I can work with, if this adopted framework is so useless to us. Give me anything, Potemkin, other then these endless lectures and half-handed psychoanalysis of us that will just end with neither of us getting what we want. No magic for you, no understanding for me. Just a mirror that you can monologue at until you want to cry," I said, with a sad smile on my face. "You really are me. Incapable of saying anything we mean to anyone but ourselves."

I looked at her, and I saw a girl from the past. With wide, red eyes, nervously gripping at the hem of ever-frayed skirt, blonde hair falling in front of her face as she desperately blew at it, trying to make herself seem older and taller then she really was. A book in her hands, a spider that crawled up her arm (naturally, covered in spider bites. She wouldn't kill her only friend, even if it made her cry.) and perched itself on the top of her head, legs tapping as the girl wandered around a household barren of affection.

I didn't smile at Potemkin. I didn't even make a face at her at all. I just looked at her, a broken thing from a broken person. What a depressing pair the two of us cut in this cold white room, filled with iron knives and empty pots.

When she looks at me, she sees a girl from the past. With cold heartless eyes, gripping the throat of a man who she doesn't know the name of, blonde hair stained red from a river of blood. Her head is cut, and spelled to come back, grinning like a devil as it looks at the man from upside down. A girl who's desperately trying to drown out the screams with more screaming. Trying to fill the void with violence. Trying to fill the emptiness with suffering.

But it didn't work.

"Teacher would never send us here to die," I said, smiling bright and wide as I held up a V. "I will kill Gaap of Ars Goetia. I will kill the Man without a Face. If anyone touches you, I'll kill them. If anyone touches Cesarina, I'll kill them. Because you're... You're..."

Damn it.

It was a good thing I didn't have any blood running through my veins.

"Impor... Valua... Desi... Tch."

I glared at her, crossing my arms as my legs dangled in the air and a spider sat on my head.

"Both of you are my friends."

I stopped, frowning as I bit my lip. What about John or Mercedes? Maybe just maiming would be okay? A light maiming? Is that what you did for acquaintances? Wait, no. If I did that for all my acquaintances I would never be able to stop maiming people.

[Cheetose]

Hisa Momoi
Location: Pinefall High Main Building - Campus Grounds
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

I could feel the corner of my eye start twitching again, but this time, it was just out of plain annoyance. Luckily, all the hair that was stuck to my face likely covered it up pretty well...but even then, it was no good. My control over my expressions can’t be this lenient.

Still, expressions or not, the feelings of annoyance were justified. I could tell just from the way the man responded to Jake that he was a major pain in the ass. The worst kind of human...and not just because of how he was. In the end, I had no right to judge him for his personality. The more important thing was what he was doing.

A reporter.

For a tabloid.

Called ‘Truthspeaker Monthly’.

I couldn’t quite tell what ‘Out There Publishing’ was, but I could at least guess that it was some company pumping out junk like the other aforementioned paper.

And for that, I had all the rights to hate him and judge him however I pleased. It was an evil job, after all. Reporters would often do anything to get what they want, and they would almost always shy away from telling the truth in their articles. The truth isn’t a good story after all, it’s not how they imagine things...and the goal is to appeal to the masses after all, that’s what stuffs the big bucks into their pockets. Not to mention…

I let out an exasperated sigh, then cleared my thoughts. Then stared at the chubby and sweaty hand that was extended towards me.

It took some effort to keep a straight face.

I don’t shake hands with people. But if I refused to do so now, it would likely lead to little good. So for now, I just had to go for it and hope that the worst that could happen was that his sweat would rub off on my own hand.

Which was already sort of disgusting on its own.

“The pleasure is mine. I’m Hisa Momoi,” I said with a small, fake smile on my face as I shook his hand, “And well, it entirely depends on the nature of the questions.”

I could always take care of him once I knew more about what he was up to. Maybe I could get him to leave that camera here. Would be a useful tool to have here, and even without that I could just take it apart for parts.

[Mellon]

Anna Vandemeel
Location: Road’s End – Streets (Inside Elaine Winter’s Car)
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

“If it really has the powers you describe, then they are slow-acting and discrete. There are things in this town that will make their move long before this thing,” he says while patting the pocket of his pants. “Exerts any influence on anybody.” ˇ

“Unless you know something I do not, and we have reason to fear an acceleration or empowerment of the artifact’s function.”

“The potato is correct, Indy. What are the conditions for this damn hunk of junk to activate? What are its range, spiritual composition, rate of accumulation?” Anna’s eyes lazily tracked the scenery rolling by outside, even as the conversation inside the heated up. “Since he isn’t stuck in some kind of concrete black-ops government box, a dozen kilometers away from human habitation, I assume he is not quite the walking nuke of death you are making him out to be at the moment.”

“What are the functional characteristics of this thing to begin with? I assume it isn’t anything as direct as an “attack” on the soul or the body, right? So what is it? Manipulation of causality? A foretelling of death?”

“Are we going to die because this thing will make it that a situation where we could die becomes a certainty? Some type accumulating negative karma?”

“Could we just physically destroy it with an opposite attribute of sufficient scale? No doubts about your prowess, Indy, but this thing is still a physical object anchored in reality. We should still be capable of breaking it, or at least forcing it to disperse, no?”

After all, the physical destruction of the planet was something that lay even beyond the “land of death” that loomed over life on Earth.

Letting out a sigh, Anna turned away from the window and towards the merc next to her.

“If this is truly the only way, then fine. We’ll do it your way. But before that, I’ll have you go through the bloody damn wringer, you get me? You will damn persuade me that your solution even makes sense and it really is the only way. And even then, we will try throwing the entire damn cupboard at this dumb thing in the hopes that something bloody else will stick.”

“And then, if nothing else works, I’ll shove this damn ball of chains straight down your throat if necessary. But not one damn lick before that.”

Flames of irritation flickered around deep in her chest. What did this idiot even think would happen? That everyone would go “Oh yes, of course, just randomly off yourself without fully explaining things, go right ahead!”? Anna herself was not unfamiliar with that type of sacrifice. She had lost plenty of comrades to unfortunate and trapped situations. But that was different. That type of solution was never the first line answer.

Besides, knowing Ramia, she would be the one complaining most loudly if anyone else tried to pull this shit on her.

“Not to mention, this damn trinket is already fishy as hell. Why did you think it had been here for a while, Ramia? Why were you so damn surprised that one of the students had it?”

“That is all I know. I hope it is to your satisfaction.”

Ridiculous.

What was playing out in front of her eyes could only be described as a joke.

At this point, Anna was convinced that she was sharing a car with three utter idiots. All a different shade of idiot, but still idiots.

God damn it, at this point, I’m half tempted to say that even having Meretseger around would be a damn improvement to this random bundle of insecurities and damn lunatics. At least this entire trashfire of a mission would be short.

Her foot slammed into the back of the seat in front of her, with zero mercy.

“Sa kuradi sitane kartul! Decide whether you hold responsibility or not, already! Either shut the fuck up and watch mutely from the hole you are digging yourself into as everything goes down in flames or speak and face the responsibility of your own fucking words and actions.”

“You don’t get to say shit and then run away from the consequences of your own bloody words, you blasted coward!”

“What do you think she will do now, you utter damn muppet? If she ends up dead, because of some gun-ho bullshit and your words, it will be on you, do you get it? The responsibility of that action, and the corpses that will ensue, will lie with John Dove and John Dove alone.”

“No amount of self-delusional depreciation will change that."

"As always, I've been focused on the things in front of me, I don't know jack shit about any of this McLampet, Disembodied Weirdo, Indian Tribe, any of that gobshit, frankly unless it becomes immediately relevant to me, I don't care."

"What is immediately relevant to me is the fact that there is a wandering super-leech just wandering around the countryside, could show up at any given moment whenever she feels like it, and just..."

"I feel like it is a matter of some concern, y'know? Given the fact that a vampire killed someone in this town, and I'm investigating it? The fact that the last time this throbbing pustule on the face of the world showed her face literally everyone died?"

“Winters, I am going to be blunt.”

“Is this crap just selfish self-satisfaction for you? I don’t really care that much myself, one way or another. As far as I am concerned, a “hero” is just just a codeword for someone who is full of shit.”

“But, hey, who am I to judge. Let people believe whatever floats their boat.” Anna’s eyes were sharp but devoid of any true hostility. “Even if you are after this specific vampire for your own personal reasons, that’s fine. We all have our personal aims here and I don’t really care.”

“However, are you actually interested in saving anyone in this place? Or is that simply the excuse you are using to sugarcoat your personal, individual, agenda?”

“I don’t know what has got you so wound up about this specific antediluvian, whether its wounded pride or insecurity or whatever, but… a ”vampire killed someone in this town”? Might “be involved since it showed up last time”?

“Your vendetta towards this vampire is the same “irrelevant to me gobshit” that you dismissed off-handedly before. I could understand if we were doing this in the hope to fix this damn mess with this bloody trinket. But this is evidently not your prime concern.”

“So why are we doing this? Do you want to kill this moroi, and this matriarch of the Drăculești family on some gut feeling?”

“And if this doesn’t work, what then? Will we just pick another random, half-credible, target that kinda souds relevant to just lynch without understanding the full picture?”

“Look, don’t get me wrong. I will get my damn dues. And I will collect whatever scalps are necessary to fix this shitty-ass situation. But only, and only if, if collecting the damn scalps makes bloody sense in the first place.”

[Mormarth]

Elaine Winters
Location: Road’s End – Streets (Inside Elaine Winter’s Car)
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

It comes without warning.

A screeching of tires and a jerking forward as the brakes slam down, the car veering off to the side of the road, settling roughly on the shoulder.

There is a moment of silence, pierced only by the slow harshness of Elaine Winters attempting to ride herd over her own increasingly violable temper.

"Self-satisfaction, huh?"

There is another pair of breaths through tightly clenched teeth.

"Sure, okay. Let's go with that. Let's pretend for a second that I'm getting any enjoyment out of this, that I do it all for kicks and giggles, yeah?"

"Fine."

"I am trying, to my utmost, and fullest capability, to focus on what has concerned me from before I got here, during all the time I've been here, and right fucking now, which is finding my brother. Everything is in service to that."

Slow, deep breaths.

"Naturally, other things have shown up, Stephanie, spirits lingering outside my door, the vast quantities of utter fucking nonsense in this shithole of a town, John Fucking Dove, the snake in the backseat and now, you."

My hands are shaking in fury.

"Of course I'm wanting to help people, I want to help literally every fucking person in front of me, but I don't have the luxury to do that right now, I have to focus on One Single Thing. So that means discounting things that are not literally screaming their importance into my very sensitive eardrums, such as the gremlin in my room."

Metaphorically speaking, of course. She's not much of a talker.

"I also don't like poking my nose into things that I know, of a matter of fact, will cause me to act irrationally more than I know I already am. Such as literally anything to do with the subject of the transference of souls and wizards wanting to live forever."

I favored Ramia with a glance and I tried to soften my blisteringly furious tone.

"Truthfully, her method was a lot fucking better than the other method I encountered, but the parallels are unfortunate and leave me not exactly the most friendly of people about it, so I apologize," My words are sincere, if curdled with anger.

Her methodology of immortality is not exactly why I am furious at her.

That would be the triad of burning silver in my gut that I can still feel raking at my intestines.

You ever had psychosomatic shits?

It's not fun.

It is the fact that this morning seems to be a literal perfect storm (haha) of Things to Make Elaine Winters Upset.

This burny bitch from the ass-end of Europe being chief among them right now.

But I am an utter bastion of perfect calm.

"I'm not the kind of person who will go balls out and try and kill everyone, so calm your fucking tits for a minute and quit shrieking about how I'm going to kill this Moroi," I sighed, though it was more of hiss through my teeth, "I just want to ask him some questions. Was he the vampire who killed that hospital escapee at the Ramshack, has he encountered my brother whose mark was there, what does he know about Queen Bitch of Fuck Mountain."

I laughed.

"Y'know, obvious shit, so I'd thank you if you'd spare me the color commentary and let me do my thrice-damned job, Witch."

"Would I prefer Ramia not off herself in the blind effort that 'maybe it'll all work out next time'? Yes! Of course I do! Would I like it if John Dove could maybe not have some sort of ephemeral soul bond with a millennia-old vampire that can and will pop out of the ground at any given moment and start fucking killing people? Yes, of course I do! I also would like it if he could grow a spine and have his balls drop out of his mouth and acknowledge the fact that he's capable of something!"

I spread my arms wildly, "Every fucking person is capable of something!"

I've given up and am mostly rambling at this point, I've had it.

"Both of you morons shouldn't throw your damned lives away! It matters! Even if your soul boops down the line to the next empty shell, that doesn't make it fucking okay! You're Ramia Ramalsaqr, the one that exists right fucking now, you probably like bawdy jokes or something!"

I shift position.

"You're John Dove, you're so wrapped up in this facade of incapability you seem unable to let yourself do fucking anything! You've got a soul down there inside because you've done shit for people that's decent! I've been there! You think I'm a decent person despite a large portion of myself strenuously disagreeing after things I've done and I really appreciate it!"

"People like both of you! People will miss you if you are gone! People will cry if you stop existing! I'm probably one of them!"

Lord knows I cried for Sakura.

"So please, don't run off and try to die to make it okay, at least make this life you've got right now worth something by living, not dying! It's what I'm doing, so that's the advice I'm giving! Is it working? Fuck if I know, I'm screaming at a couple of people in a parked car!"

"People matter, damn it! That's why I'm trying to focus the fuck down on this one, damned thing in front of me, so then I can merrily spend the rest of my time solving problems and gleefully shoving my hands into an open furnace for no real gain and calling it heroism, because that's what it is! Getting involved in things that don't concern me for no real gain, and in fact, usually negative gain! But y'know what, I'm okay with that, because at least then I can see people go on living, go on mattering! That's what gives me my meaning! That's why I pop out of a bush and say dumb quotes to people who don't care to try and keep some stupid vampire I barely know from dying because I heard her begging someone, anyone, for help! That's why I do this dumb fucking bullshit 'hero' shit you're all but taking a shit on!"

Then she died anyway.

"Because I'm a fucking idiot! But I'm trying!"

Not one of my better nights.

I pause, panting.

"That's the kind of person I am. I don't enjoy dismissing things, but if I want to accomplish literally anything before it slips away through my fingers, I have to do something! So don't you fucking dare sit here, in my fucking car, and call witch hunt on me, Anna. Because we're doing the exact same thing except I have the fucking audacity to sit here and be emotional about it, so you can fuck off outta my face."

[Kuroyuki]

Vier Wolff
Location: Owl's Nest Hotel - Room #211
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

"... Nope. That's sis."

“Oh it’s your sister. Sorry, my friend only really gave me this name.”

I watched as Omkaras left the door ajar to awake presumably his sister Kajal Omkaras for me. While I couldn’t exactly see or hear the other side too well without appearing obvious, I could still make out some things that were occurring in the room. Some notable details was that the Omkaras naturally spoke a different language to each other and the various newspapers strewn about. The first was way more noteworthy due to the fact that people tended to default to their preferred language whenever possible. There is the possibility that it was only because I was around however, human habit was hard to beat in general.

Eventually, Omkaras came back with his sister Kajal. She was… my age. No, slightly younger. That’s what I could tell without investigating her. Tan skin, impassive face. Almost as if I was talking to a younger, female Omkaras.

"... What is it? What message? I'm Kajal. And that's bro... Jayesh."

Actually on second thought, now that I have heard both of them speak. I could at least confirm that they were raised in the same environment and considered each other brother and sister.

“Nice to meet you Kajal and Jayesh. My friend wanted me to deliver this message to you about yesterday afternoon.”

I held out Aleen’s note for Kajal Omkaras to take.

“Also could I ask you about a personal matter of mine. It’s about a different friend of mine that I haven’t seen since Sweden...”

[Daneel Rush]

Location: Road’s End – Streets (Inside Elaine Winter’s Car)
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain



[Hit! John Dove: 4 - 2 = 2 (Unarmed Physical Damage)!]

The impact of his forehead against the car’s inner frame rattles his head, but there is no outward expression of pain. He does not move, either, just letting his forehead rest on the surface.

Now, this is more familiar, and easy to understand. It is simple anger, and a simple expression of it. Even an idiot like him will not see any ambiguities in such an obvious display. He should have known this would happen—he probably did know this would happen. Even if he does what one person wants, another will be displeased by it. It does not happen every single time, but often enough. It is part of the difficulties implicit in dealing with the grey people.

This is why it is easier to avoid them whenever possible. The easiest way to avoid conflict is to avoid potential agents of conflict, after all. Don’t mind their business, and they will not mind yours.

Staying inside his bedroom for the rest of the week becomes even more appealing by the second. It is simply easier to do nothing. If you do not try, then you cannot fail.



He just gave Winters what he wanted, because he lacks the power to assert his will over her or anybody else. Even if he knew what is best for Elaine Winters, he cannot make her take that path. He lacks physical, magical, and/or argumentative power.

If giving her the answers she wanted was a mistake, then anything else he could have done was either futile or another mistake. In that case, was silence the right move?

No, because Elaine Winters would not have accepted silence as an answer. This was a “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” situation. Perhaps the only acceptable course of action was not being there in the first place, but that is a pointless thought exercise.

Afterwards, Vandemeel switches targets to Winters. John Dove remains unmoving, but he certainly listens.

No. Even if there is some value to your points, this is not the correct means of addressing them.

As if he knows better. Those are the thoughts of the boy who seeks to avoid all conflict whenever possible.

Vandemeel’s speech is a return to the idea of personal “morals” and “worldview” John earlier explored through Elaine Winters’ words. Vandemeel has decided on what she deems the optimal way to perceive and interact with the world around her, and would very much prefer it if everybody followed her ways. The driving emotions—and probably the foundational elements that created their respective worldviews—are very different, but she reminds him of both Momoi and Alexstrasza in some ways. Whether they are “good” or “bad” ways, well…John Dove is not ready to make that judgement.

Obviously, he is not blind and dumb enough to fail to realize she also reminds him of himself. On the other hand, the foundation of his “worldview” is lies and self-deception. Therefore, this analogy will not push him closer to the truth.

The John Dove of two weeks ago would have probably sided with Vandemeel here. After all, to that boy, all human beings were equally grey, and he cared not for their individual worldviews. However, the current John Dove has met extraordinary people, who have rendered him unable to ignore their differences—their uniqueness. He acknowledges human individuality, but still lacks the degree of self-assertion that would allow him to assign to that individuality its proper value.

Or so he thinks.



Naturally, Elaine Winters responds, because she is nothing like him. She would never remain silent and meek. She is a wounded animal—she has been a wounded animal since last Sunday; no, since long before that—, and wounded animals bite back.

It is not that John laments his inability to do things, though. What he laments is that nothing he does truly amounts to anything. His current woe is not inaction; it is action devoid of value. The crushing feeling that he has failed at everything he has ever tried. He could not prevent the death of Colton Davin, despite being in a unique position to do so. He could not stop Ramalsaqr from hurting Winters, and he could not stop Her from killing the two of them. He could not convince Mercedes West to flee the town and leave him behind. Last night was a disaster; every single effort he made to gain something, to bring something to this morning’s table, was snapped at the root. The only silver lining was that nothing happened to Ubon (because he valued Ubon’s safety over his own need to achieve something, but there’s no way this idiot will remember that in his current mental state).

He could not save Alexstrasza.

He had the gall to call himself "her friend", and he was not there when she was crying for help.

Winters’ words are like stabs to his heart.

How dare she?

How dare she, who is one of the strong? How dare she, as one who has power, speak to him of futility? What kind of moron do you have to be, to have so much yet look down on yourself to such a degree? How blind can a person be, to not see how bright and colorful they are?

Words gather and snowball down the slippery slope that is his mind, crashing incessantly against the brittle walls built on self-deprecation and self-deception.

“It is better to say nothing,” whispers the ‘logic’ that drives him.

“If I open my mouth, I will just mess up again,” it jeers.

“I wanted this meeting to stop Ramalsaqr from becoming our enemy again, and look at what’s happening. I made things worse.”

“It is better to do nothing. Then nobody can blame me for anything—”

A second line of thought interrupts the onslaught of defeatism.

That logic is fundamentally flawed. I have been paying attention. I know I can also be blamed for inaction.

John’s jaw tightens—a physical reaction to the unexpected bout of mental resistance.

“…that is indeed true,” he continues his inner debate. “But that will only make people look down on me. I can endure that. I have endured that. As long as I do nothing, then I cannot ruin anything.”

This should be enough. This should have been enough.

Not this time. Not anymore.

…what about the ruin that may happen as a consequence of my inaction?

A needlessly hard blink. John’s head hurts, and it is not just the recent impact. To the primary ‘framework of logic’ that rules the machine called ‘John Dove’, this is an absurd counterargument.

“That’s just arrogance, believing my actions are needed for anything. What tragedies can a mediocre man like John Dove prevent? What help can a powerless man like John Dove offer to those greater than himself? Really, if I want to do something good for these people, the best thing I can do is not get in their way.”

However, there is more than self-defined ‘logic’ inside this boy’s head. His mind, which for years was nurtured only by the assertions of a fundamentally damaged ego, has now received many other things from many other people.

…that…may be true. Moreover, based from the precedent thus far, it is likely that my words and my actions will achieve nothing, or make things even worse. However…

It hurts.

…however…

It hurts to be so powerless.

…if I do nothing…

Why does it hurt so much, though? If nothing really matters, least of all himself, then why does it hurt to amount to nothing?

“I mean, it is only natural. I do not want to die just yet. Not by you, nor by anybody else’s hand. I have to know more things. See more things. Do a lot more things. After all, if that invitation to tea in the afterlife is still open, it would be good to have a good story or two with which to entertain Her.”

Why did he say those words back then? What was the thought driving them out of his lips?

What is the thought driving the words coming out of his lips right now?

“You told me to run away,” he speaks, barely a whisper as he turns his head to glance at the driver.

…if I do nothing…how can I hope to achieve anything?

He probably will never become a creature of passions and emotions like Elaine Winters and most other human beings. He does not want to become such a creature. He is comfortable within the rigid, structured walls of logic. However…

“Back then, you told me to run away, Winters. Until the very end, you cared. Even after the end, I saw technique, tactics, intent and will. I saw how Elaine Winters fights, and it was like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

…that does not mean he cannot use the rigid ways of logic to reach a new result. If anything, has this not always been John Dove’s one authentic talent? The ability to deceive himself into believing whatever he wants to believe?

“So, please, Winters. My opinion might not amount to much, but…I think you overestimate it; that thing you fear so much. And I think you underestimate yourself, and that’s just painful to watch.”

It does not matter that he still fails to admit logic is not what drives him. That can wait a bit longer. What pushes him forward is secondary to the act of taking the step forward.

“I was the one who could do nothing. I was the one who could not stop what happened. I might as well have fired those bullets myself. So I am the only person in this car you have a reason to resent.”

He carries her death and that of Ramalsaqr as his burden, just like the trail of small tragedies he has left in his wake for the past ten years. It is fine if she loathes him for that death that no longer was; he can endure that.

Finally pushing himself backwards, he turns his head to the back seat.

“Vandemeel. This is just my opinion, but…I do not think ‘peace’ can exist in a world that follows your rules.”

His opinion has no value. It will not change anything, nor achieve anything. That is how it has always been. Nevertheless, he speaks, for perhaps, just perhaps, the next time could be different.

“I guess that is fine if ‘peace’ is not what you are looking for in your life, but…”

He shakes his head.

“Anything further from me would be hypocrisy. I apologize for taking so much of your time this morning. Really.”

It is likely he is just screwing things up again, and it is all but certain he will keep screwing up again and again as long as he sticks to his ways. This world is not so kind that it allows people to take action only when they are certain of its success.

However, just as action can definitely make things worse, inaction definitely cannot make anything better.

“I would say we have discussed my…circumstances to a sufficient degree. Vandemeel, please allow me the time to meditate on what I have learned this morning, but right now I would hope to center the discussion on the bigger issues at hand.”

From the Shadow of the Moon, John gained the virtues of discipline and dedication to a task, even one that existed only in his head.

“We have reached a single conclusion regarding the matter of the artifact, and it is that its neutralization at the cost of the life of Ramia Ramalsaqr is unacceptable except as the absolute last resort. Vandemeel, I would appreciate it if you explored whatever possibilities you deem feasible through your own powers or your contacts in the Turnside. You as well, Winters.”

John cannot know this as he is right now, but the willingness to act is the force that creates the possibility for change. A static monolith cannot become anything else on its own. As long as he does something, anything, it is possible for him to find different paths, both in the world and within himself.

“Ramalsaqr, if you have any research notes on your efforts to destroy and/or neutralize the artifact, I would appreciate it if you would let us see them. It is overly pretentious of me, but I deem it necessary to ascertain that there is nothing you have missed.”

And maybe, just maybe, one of those paths leads to a John Dove who is not a complete screw-up.

“Let us put that aside for now, for there are plenty other things I would like to bring up, such as the Coastrise siblings, the possibility that the local McLampet family is also connected to vampirism, the threatening beings known as the ‘Disembodied Man’ and ‘Dot F. Loonwaters’, and the fact that some of the things happening may be a repetition of events in this town’s past.”

There are even more matters that need any degree of consideration, such as the safety of Cesarina Feroce, the bundle of issues that is Elise Marie Pelltier, the person who claimed Elise Marie’s life in the first iteration of the week, the US government’s involvement in the Pinefall project, Elizaveta Vyraj, etcetera. However, John Dove has no confidence he can help solve a single problem; it is beyond unreasonable for him to burden himself with all of them.

It is all about the right people for the right job.

“Before that, however, there is something I need to clarify, because it is only going to become more difficult to tiptoe around this matter.”

Thus, he is going to keep screwing up until he finds “the right job for John Dove.” He is already wallowing in the deepest mud of his own mediocrity and self-loathing, so what is the worst that could happen if he messes up again? He will just swallow a bit of mud and choke for a while. Or he will get himself killed.

“Vandemeel, how much does Ramalsaqr know about ‘last week’?”

It is just as the Estonian mage says. If he truly has nothing, there he has absolutely nothing to lose, and absolutely everything to gain. If he truly is nothing, then he can only become something.

If he is at the absolute bottom, then there is nowhere else to look but upwards.

[Bloble]

Prushka
Location: Pinefall High Cafeteria
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

I take a piece of bacon, and eat it.

Crunch, crunch.

Everyone has their own two cents to add to the issue of Hisa leaving. But really, I think it's something that won't progress without Hisa herself. Any attempts to try and come up with a solution without her here are doomed to failure. If it's a situation that needs a solution in the first place. It might be that she's just that kind of girl. Nothing wrong with it.

After all, I know what it's like to not want to deal with someone. I couldn't stand sitting next to Alexstrasza Lockhart on the first day here. Presumably, there are also people here that Hisa Momoi can't stand. Hopefully... hopefully that person wasn't me.

“I’m just peachy, by the way, had to take care of some stuff, and I’m not really interested in taking repeat classes.”

"Hhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

He's suspicious. Absolutely suspicious. Absolutely, he 100% for certain remembers.

Even though my mind is only half-here, I can still squint at Colt, doing my best Clint Eastwood impression as I crunch on some bacon, searching for something in his eyes.

This guy... he is an idiot, right? I'm starting to think he might actually be really smart or something. Maybe he was lying last time.

"Well, alright. But thinking the classes are all repeats is kinda jumping the gun, isn't it? There was plenty of stuff I hadn't seen before."

Enough to make me wonder if whoever's in charge of the lesson plans knows about the repeats, and varied them up to take our memories into account. Scary thought.

"Anyway, you can look at my notes if you want. Helping people out is nice, but careful not to get thrown into detention. Or fail your final exams."

Alright, Colt Davin is probably a genius.

"You said Symzonia, right? Like Symzonia, an ancient civilization from under the surface of the Earth?"

"Hm?"

For a moment, Colt is spared my scrutiny, as Elise mentions something interesting.

Anything to distract me from the storm in my soul right now.

"Wuzzat? Symzonia? I've never heard of it."

I blink at Tris.

"...what's it like there?"

[Spinach]

Colt Davin
Location: Pinefall High Cafeteria
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

"Hhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

There it was, that skeptical stare that more than words says ‘you, Colt Davin, are suspicious.’ In fact, that was probably why she didn’t bother to say it. The smallest girl at Pinefall’s face was louder than anything she could say.

Well, he had a hunch that she might remember last week, even without talking to her about it. It was an easy explanation for that brief exchange they had on the beach, not to mention a decent explanation for her suddenly deciding to join the concert this time.

"Well, alright. But thinking the classes are all repeats is kinda jumping the gun, isn't it? There was plenty of stuff I hadn't seen before."

“You might be right, I mean, there’s always a chance things might not be what I expect.” Relenting, Colt shrugged. Some things had deviated a bit, after all. Likely due to the actions of the others who remembered the previous week, but also due to the slight disparities between the two. “Still, I really did have things to do, I wouldn’t skip just because class is boring.”

Though the first time that thing to do wasn’t all that important.

"Anyway, you can look at my notes if you want. Helping people out is nice, but careful not to get thrown into detention. Or fail your final exams."

Colt rubbed his chin.

“Well, I don’t have a reason to turn down an offer like that.” He answered with a ponderous expression, as though he was thinking about what content he might have missed. “Sure, I’ll take you up on it.

Beneath his thoughtful demeanor was only one singular thought.

Does the shrimp write her i’s with cute little hearts?

[Bloble]

Prushka
Location: Pinefall High Cafeteria
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

"Here ya go. Take a look now; I'll need it back before class."

I already have it at the ready. That's why I can immediately hand Colt the thin, ordinary notebook full of lined paper. It had at one point been the victim of Ubon splashing it with water, and had dried off somewhat crustier for it.

"Start at the bookmark, see if there's anything you haven't already covered."

It's not like I was lying. My school notes are in there. It's just that most of the subjects being taught are only high school level, so I don't need to take many notes to pass with straight As. That's what the first half of the notebook is for.

The back half, however...

Well, Colt can find that out for himself.

Table of Contents

[Mellon]

Anna Vandemeel
Location: Road’s End – Streets (Inside Elaine Winter’s Car)
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

So don't you fucking dare sit here, in my fucking car, and call witch hunt on me, Anna. Because we're doing the exact same thing except I have the fucking audacity to sit here and be emotional about it, so you can fuck off outta my face.

For a moment, Anna’s face was completely expressionless, even as the blonde in front of her shouted and shimmered on the verge of a breakdown.

Perhaps she should have expected this type of misunderstanding from the way she herself was acting. From an outsider’s perspective, maybe it did seem like her actions were more aligned towards something like that.

A tired sigh escaped her lips.

“You misunderstand, I am not a “hero”. I have never called myself something that pompous and I never will. I am even not here to help people.”

In fact, one could say that she was the opposite of such a figure.

“I have spent most of my life killing people, Winters. Not monsters. And not some type of Saturday morning cartoon villain evil zealots or immoral mages and whatnot either.”

“Oh there were some heartless assholes, of course, there always are. But most of them were real, actual flesh and blood people like you and me.”

“Whether it was some hopeless Naukograd tin can who didn’t even properly understand the world or his own feelings and was just following orders or some half-assed sixteen-year-old cabal initiate from a random hicksville in Krasnoyarsk whose only fault was getting involved with the wrong crowd and going along with the crap they were selling her.”

“To protect my home and my family, I killed all of them, with absolutely no hesitation. And I would do so again if it came down to it.”

Anna’s red eyes shifted over the immobile treeline in the distance.

“If I help out anyone, it is because I think it is the right thing to do or because it’s convenient for my own goals. It’s as simple as that.” The Estonian witch let out another sigh as her eyes moved from the treeline and towards the blonde she was talking to. “The reason why I asked you what I asked you is because when I hear you speak, I hear vengeance in your voice and words. I hear wounded pride. I hear insecurity. I hear obsession.”

“In the end, do you save others to save them or do you save them because it gives you meaning? Cause if the second is true, can you really say that you are “shoving your hands into an open furnace for no real gain”?”

“That “gain” is the center of your existence in that case. It is far more valuable than any physical reward would ever be, no?” Having said that, the raven-haired witch gave a small wave and the rustle of her synthetic sports jacket filled the small interior of the car. “But we are getting ahead of ourselves. Fundamentally, I need to know that I can trust you and we are getting into this shit for the right reasons.”

“If you truly think that this is the correct way to save people and solve the shit in this town, fine. I can watch your back for something like that. Give a hand, whatever.”

“However, if this vampire is your target just so that you could angle for a rematch to soothe your insecurities about your self-worth and sense of meaning getting challenged, I need to know that as well.”

“That’s all.”

“Vandemeel. This is just my opinion, but…I do not think ‘peace’ can exist in a world that follows your rules.”

“I guess that is fine if ‘peace’ is not what you are looking for in your life, but…”

"Dove. Peace is a luxury built on the backs of those less fortunate. Those who are ground up by organizations, nations, mankind, and the World to feed this stale and immobile status quo you desire get no say in this.”

“You are right that peace is not something I look for. As far as I am concerned, this world should have far less peace and far more justice.”

“Vandemeel, how much does Ramalsaqr know about ‘last week’?”

A brief flicker of irritation flashed over Anna’s face as she raised her hand to ruffle her raven locks in a brief bout of exasperation. It was clear that, for once, the ruby-eyed witch was struggling to actually put her thoughts into words – a rather unusual situation for the normal, rather vocal, witch.

“I don’t even know how much I know. Hell, I am not even sure any of the information I remember is real and not some type of mental attack or ploy to distract me.”

“Absolutely nothing is happening along according to those memories, after all. Hell, is the outcome even going to be remotely similar to that, if none of the preceding elements follow the same pattern?”

“Well, I was going to breach this topic anyway, before we veered off, so…” Anna turned towards the white-haired mercenary for the first time in a while. “What he is referring to is the fact that we have “phantom memories” in our minds of this very same week.”

“I imagine the structure of it is similar to how the memories of your past incarnations work, only not in a linear fashion, timewise. More like some type of "potential" outcome for this week, maybe? Supposedly, they are given by this incarnated aeternus spirit that is trying to avoid some type of calamity in the future, but…” Another deep sigh, but this one was tinged with not a small part of irritation. “Well, that’s beside the point at the moment, I guess.”

“The fundamental problem is that in these memories, everyone… or almost everyone, I suppose, dies on Sunday. Through different circumstances and different reasons…”

“…but they die nonetheless. Most of it is due to the Turnside elements of this town going completely out of control at the same time.”

[Verg Avesta]

Anna Vandemeel, John Dove & Elaine Winters
Location: Road's End - Streets
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

In the end of the argument, now that the car had come to a stop, Ramia Ramalsaqr wore a weary expression. The look she directed to those around her, the three individuals in the car with her, was... an old one. One truly befitting of the years her existence had slinked through the decades, one body after another, always having a little bit more wear-and-tear to it and always forgetting a little bit more. Like a jacket that's returned to the second-hand shop, over and over again, each time found by a new owner but never used till it's beyond function.

Her eyes, once more, glanced at the rainy skies outside, but this time, they didn't linger in there. Instead, she seemed to take that moment to put her thoughts in order. And after that...

She began to speak.

"First of all... I have three things to say."

Her husky voice filled the car, and at the same time, her eyes turned towards Elaine.

"Winters... I have to agree with Red here. The way you speak of that antediluvian - whether it be Cleopatra's sworn friend or someone else - reeks of revenge. A grudge match. And if I'm starting to understand the situation correctly, that sort of emotional baggage, at least for the immediate time being, might be more of a hindrance. I know it's not fair, and I'm the last person to talk about such things, but sometimes we need to hold our emotions back," Ramia started. "Still... thanks. When you live an existence like mine, it's sometimes easy to forget that when I move onto my next body, I leave behind who I was - and that person is dead, especially in the eyes of those who knew her."

Then, Ramia's eyes turned towards John.

"And Dove, I know feeling powerless, feeling useless amidst the turbulent tides of the Turnside feels overpowering. Believe me, I know. I mean... why do you think I took up alchemy in the first place? If you think you feel alienated and small now, then you would have been miserable at 3rd century - before the Great Disaster. The gap was so wide that... eh, it's not important. Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that..." She searched for the right words for a moment. "You're far from useless. In situations like these, every single mind counts, every single pair of hands counts. The right man in the right place at the right time can make all the difference in the world. Just because you haven't been put through the wringer by the Turnside or have inhuman blood in your veins doesn't mean that you can't be useful. Right now you're the only one with a proper connection to that vampire, and more importantly... you've got your own mind."

Then, finally, Ramia turned her gaze towards Anna.

And, somewhat surprisingly, her eyes hardened.

"And as for you Red... Listen. There's something I think you need to hear from me, before you hear it from someone way nastier. I get you... I do. I understand where that fire comes from, and I understand you've done what you've had to do to protect what's yours. But... you have to stop thinking you know better than anyone else. Right now you live in a world of absolutes and where the only your own experience matters. You view everything through your own lense, and when things don't match up with your world-view, you dismiss them as nonsense. Those who are angry when you're not are violent, those who are sad when you're not are weak, those who do things you won't are insane or stupid. That's what I see from your eyes and what lurks behind them. I'm sure someone like you is sick and tired, say, the politics of Orloj - and see the archmages and department heads as nothing but fools. But one thing you need to realize is..." Ramia paused to give her words a meaning, as if she wanted Anna to actually take heed of what she was saying. "... You're young. Your experience and what you think you know of the world amounts to a drop in the ocean to some. Your rage against the system and against people around you is based on the limited things you've learned. So you need to stop pushing it as the only proper gospel before it gets you into trouble. It's fine to be passionate, it's fine to have an opinion, but when you look down on everyone around you and refuse to consider the view-points of others, you just make yourself weak."

After those admittedly harsh words, Ramia rubbed her temples and let out a sigh.

"And before you accuse me of it, I'm not saying that to insult you. You know I like you too much to do so, Red. And that's exactly why I'm saying it. Because if you don't slow down, grow up and reconsider if that flame within you is always right..."

And the eyes that gazed at Anna afterwards were much softer, as was the hint of a smile on the mercenary's face.

"... Your justice will end up as the exact injustice you're trying to fight. And you'll just create more people like you, out for your blood specifically."

Then, as if switching gears, Ramia leaned back and unbuckled her seatbelt. She shuffled on the seat and opened the door, stepping into the heavy rain outside and throwing up the hood of her raincoat. The dusky-skinned girl took a moment to enjoy the fresh air and the moisture in the air, before turning back to look at the people inside the car. Leaning against the roof of the vehicle, she continued to speak - almost like now that some fresh air had been allowed to flow inside the car, it was time to get back into business. Time to properly switch topics.

"--- In any case, Dove's right. While my original notes are somewhere in my old workshop and I doubt we have time for a quick trip to Alexandria, I can try to fish out some facts from my muddled memories. But in return, I think the wisest thing right now would be to for you guys to give me - and each other - a proper explanation of these... memories of a week that never happened. And what you learned during them. Comparing notes might allow you to see something you haven't. Odd details, differences, what strange things you encountered," Ramia spoke. "The more information we have to the mechanics of this thing, the better we can understand it and how to, perhaps, defeat it. After all, a good experiment always starts with working out a theory, and a theory can be only built upon facts."

That momentary grin that had adorned the mercenary's face after those last words became more serious quickly.

"And what came to one of your major questions... sorry. Physical destruction's a no-go. It's a metaphysical chain around the wearer, what ties them down to Irkalla. And even more..." Ramia snorted, sounding almost amused. "... That's a piece of Venus. Some sorta metal her sworn friend got from there. Our abilities ain't gonna do crap to it. I mean... it lies outside the Laws of Reality, and thus, how we're bending them."

Yeah, that was definitely a crooked, sarcastic smile.

"... Space stuff is the worst at times like this, huh?"

[Verg Avesta]

Colt Davin, Lucille Faraday, Elise Pelltier & Prushka
Location: Pinefall High Cafeteria
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

"Symzonia? W-well...!"

Looking suddenly a bit bashful, Tris rubbed the back of her neck and smiled the widest of grins, like the fact that someone had actually asked about her "country" of origin had put her in an incredibly good mood. With clear excitement, she shoveled another batch of bacon into her mouth, gulped down a large glass of milk, slammed it against the table, wiped her face and finally slammed her hands to the wooden surface as well for a good measure. Those same, excited eyes were turned towards Prushka and Elise as the blonde leaned closer, giddy and gleeful.

"Symzonia art the greatest nation undereth the surface! We art people both proficieneth in arts of war and peace, and hath spread far and wideth to the west of the Lidenbrock Sea! We bordereth the great nation of Agartha to the north, and the people of Shamballa art our sworn friends - and our capital, the Conquered Xanadu, shineth like a jewel in the vastness of the underground!" Tris exclaimed proudly, nose pointing towards the ceiling. "O-of courseth, thou art not wrong that we wereth more... peaceful, in the past. However, the appearence of those accursedeth nazis who forceth their way through the Hole with their war machines made us... reconsidereth. Especially after they attackedeth our dear friends of Shamballa!"

Honestly, the more this girl was speaking, the less sense she was making. To anyone who had read even a bit of older adventure books found that she was mixing and matching terms found in various science fiction books like they had been Legos, building a rather fantastical view of the supposed culture she came from... and throwing some fascist threat into the mix as well.

Then again, Tris spoke of it with such pride that it didn't sound like she was making it up either...

"Still, I art somewhat confusedeth," the blonde continued, looking at Elise. "Thou art in the company of one of the underground pygmies - dost thou sayeth she hast not already briefed thee upon this matter?"

This was all said while gesturing towards Prushka.

... It seemed that some sort of huge misunderstanding was brewing here.

And while Colt Davin might have wanted to go in-between and stop the conversation before things got out of hand, suddenly he felt a strong yank in his hand - one that was now grasped by Gradient.

Gradient, who was practically beaming - wearing the widest smile the boy had ever seen her wear.

... Almost like she was proud of something he had said earlier.

"Muu!" Gradient exclaimed happily and pointed towards the cafeteria entrance.

Yet at that same time...

Slam!

A sharp, loud sound broke the peaceful atmosphere of the cafeteria.

"Like... like what the hell, Lucy?"

Mercedes West's voice cut into the jovial, light-hearted atmosphere like a knife and brought everything to a screeching halt. The starlet had slammed her hands against the table, and was now staring at Lucille in a way that she had never before. The actress looked positively angry... but also hurt. Like Lucille had just slapped her straight across the face without any reason.

And underneath that, something else was storming as well...

"Privacy...? Like, Lucy, if you got something you don't want me to know, that's fine - everyone's got stuff like that. But that ain't the point. The point is you've been, like, avoiding me this whole week, even after I told you... all that. Gawd, it's like someone snapped their fingers and you just gained points in being a colossal bitch!" Mercedes replied, grinding her teeth together. "I ain't looking to, like, snoop around in whatever you've got going on, and if you want me to stay out, then say so, but the point is, at least say something!"

Pulling back, the actress folded her arms across her chest and glared down at the blonde girl, challenging her cold voice with her own stare.

"I told you that I would, like, help you out - and I will, even if I don't know what's going on. 'Cause that's what friends do," she continued. "So if something's troubling you, stop acting like a stranger! That ain't gonna help anyone! Even if it's something you can't talk about, you can at least rely on me a little! Or even tell it to me straight - instead of running away from me like a coward!"

An awkward, long silence followed. During that, Mercedes finally averted her gaze.

And while she was looking away, only those closest to her, like Lucille and Ubon, could hear the starlet mutter:

"... Goddammit, I've been worried about you, Lucy..."

---

Hisa Momoi
Location: Pinefall High - Campus Grounds
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

Barney Keyhoe chuckled after the handshake and wiped some more sweat off his face. Afterwards he picked up what looked like a small dictation machine from his pocket and pushed it on, despite Jake's protests. The silver-haired janitor signaled with his eyes for Hisa to be careful about what she would say... after all, if this guy was going to record the conversation just like that, he must have been after some specific soundbytes.

That hungry look of a scoop-addicted second-rate journalist gleaming from behind those ridiculous sunglasses was a tell-tale sign of that.

"Well, nothing too intrusive, I assure you. I'm a reporter of the truth, not seedy human gossip or rumours! Just a little bit of this and a little bit of that about this fine school you're attending right now. Understand? Yes yes, of course you do, you seem like a smart girl," Barney continued with a smarmy smile. "Oh, and maybe few questions about the town itself - along with your general feelings about living in a place with such a bad reputation. So yes, nothing out of the ordinary!"

Jake, who had been glaring at the reporter all this time, leaned a bit closer to Hisa and whispered between his teeth:

"... Want me to go get Mr. Oceandrop? You might need to distract him for a minute for that, though..."

--- It was a tempting option, of course.

Especially since Mr. Keyhoe seemed to just be getting started.

"For example, have you heard of the multiple tragedies that have struck this school in the past? Awful, awful things that ended up claiming lives of multiple students in both cases. Absolutely horrible. Does it bother you that you've been sent to the very school were these things happened? Does it affect your normal lives here? For example, have you noticed any cold spots or strange whispers in the hallways at night? Maybe seen a student where there was none? Or heard someone walking around the dorms when everyone was dead asleep?" Barney started, shooting out a cavalcade of questions and gathering steam. "And what do you think of the accusations that the patriarch of the McLampet family, the one who basically built this town, is a warlock in cahoots with evil powers of the netherworld and who uses demons to do his bidding? Like, say, driving a native tribe out of town through such dastardly magicks?"

... The further he went, the clearer the picture of this guy's brand of journalism started to become.

As he had said, he didn't seem to be after any juicy gossip or tales with which to sell his tabloid to nosy housewives.

No...

"And what about his connections to some secret Air Force operations? Have you heard anything of the alleged technology that was smuggled from Mount Rainier to here, into this very town, for sake-keeping? All done by black, unmarked vans belonging to the US government?" Barney continued. "Speaking of which, have you seen any flickering lights in the night sky during your stay? Perhaps head otherworldly noises from above? Seen any odd airplanes with strange shapes?"

... He was after conspiracy theories.

[Verg Avesta]

Liana Skye
Location: Owl's Nest Hotel - Dining Area
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

"How many people outside of the school?"

Ferguson hummed.

"A decent few," he responded simply. "We have our eyes on few of them and will be conducting some... a bit out-there reconnaissance later today - nothing you'll need to worry about. Still, it's good to hear a little bit about the people inside the school as well. Not that I actually believe any student did it - and if they did, they would have to be a rather unique individual. And as far as I have heard, only two or three people in that school have an actual criminal record. But as your principal has gone to great lengths to assure the nay-sayers that it'll be a perfectly safe environment for everyone, I'm willing to take his word for it."

He stopped for a moment, before flashing a mischievous smile.

"Knock on wood, of course," Scottie said and did just that, at almost the exact same time as Liana's chili-coffee arrived.

Afterwards, the two took a moment to enjoy the chili-spiced coffee and it's rich, quite invigorating aroma that practically demanded the drinker's body to get up and start today's work. How the agent was able to drink three of them was anyone's guess.

"Damn good coffee," Ferguson muttered with a smile as he smacked his lips and put the cup down on the table.

Then he turned his attention back to the girl in front of him.

"Well my dear, it seems that I should start heading out soon. Duty calls and when it does, any good agent worth their salt answers. That being said, if you have any more questions, feel free to ask them before that," he said with a smile. "God knows answers are in short supply in this town, so I try to do my part and give them whenever I can. A good mystery is one thing, but blindly flailing around is another."

That twinkle of child-like humour and curiosity was back in his eyes.

"That being said, I have a question of my own. One I think you might be able to help me with."

He held a proper pause to let the anticipation set in a little bit.

"... What do you know about cuckoos?"

---

Vier Wolff
Location: Owl's Nest Hotel - Room #211
Phase: Morning Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Rain

“Nice to meet you Kajal and Jayesh. My friend wanted me to deliver this message to you about yesterday afternoon. Also could I ask you about a personal matter of mine. It’s about a different friend of mine that I haven’t seen since Sweden...”

Jayesh, having apparently lost his interest in the conversation since it didn't involve him, loitered back into the main hotel room and turned on the television just in time to catch some early game show or another. Kajal, on the other hand, took the letter that Vier had presented her and slipped it to herself through the crack in the door. One could hear her rustling with the envelope a little on the other side of the door, tear said envelope open and then start reading whatever message it was that Aleen had sent her. An awkward sort of silence fell of the hallway, as Vier had to stand there waiting - the only thing she was capable of seeing being the television screen and Jayesh's sock-covered feet as he lay lazily on the bed.

Eventually, after a couple of minutes, Kajal's face appeared in the crack of the door, and she peered at Vier through her large glasses.

"... I see. Aleen's friend. Gotcha," the quiet girl's monotone voice droned. "Will consider your... personal matter."

With that, she undid the chain on the door and finally opened it, letting Vier step into the room... and making the girl realize that unlike her brother, Kajal's tallness was only an illusion. Those ridiculous platform shoes she wore added to her height considerably, and without them, she would have been even shorther than Vier.

... Her fashion sense was also rather questionable at best.

What even was half of that stuff.

"Just a warning," Kajal continued, inviting the brunette further into the room. "The things we do are... spooky. If you really care about this... Swedish friend... you might wanna reconsider..."

... What was she even talking about?

"Not every person has the courage to talk to..."

Kajal held a dramatic pause, before throwing her hands equally dramatically in the air.

"... Ghosts."

---

Alexstrasza Lockhart
Location: Pinefall High Dormitory - Kitchen
Phase: Evening Phase
Date: 09.09.1994 (FRI)
Weather: Overcast

Potemkin's stare continued to be flat, continued to be unimpressed, continued to be... bored.

The litany of words thrown against her had little effect on the mood of the monochrome creature as she listened to Alexstrasza talk.

Waiting for it to end, waiting to respond to the misunderstandings, waiting for the excuses to stop.

"........ You won't. Because that's true impossibility. You, who got killed by a single inquisitor, can't even hope to destroy a Named Demon. And do you even know why? Hah... What am I saying? Of course you don't. Because you're still blinded. Because you're still deaf. Even now, you demand answers, when I've already given them to you. Because that great big black hole you've got there just can't fathom it," Potemkin slowly replied, circling the main table with equally slow steps. "Just by listening to you, I can see it. Even when I don't have to. 'All that we have achieved'.... Ha."

A humourless sneer spread to her face.

"Achieved? Really? And what, exactly, have you achieved? Recognized three names? Okay, so what do those names bring you? In what way have they eased your existence? In what way have they helped you? The only reason you strived for them was because they were there. You thought: 'all strong ones have three names' and thus you did it. This is exactly what I meant. You understand the motion, but not the reason - the effect, but not the cause. You blindly ape what made others strong but lack the motivation," Potemkin continued without mercy. "Monkey see, monkey do. That's been the whole reason why you've strived forward so far. And that's the thing, isn't it? All you've strived for, all you want to be... is something someone else already is - has already done. You've done nothing impossible. You've just followed the exact footsteps of other people, thinking you were following your own path."

The cold depths of those eyes, like blots of ink, held no warmth for Alexstrasza Lockhart.

"You've done nothing impossible - hence you can't achieve the impossible. Ergo, you won't be able to kill that demon - no matter how hard you try."

She laughed.

"Take it from me - you're just an

Faker

Imitation

."

Finally those steps had taken Potemkin next to Alexstrasza, and the blonde girl found herself staring right into that monochrome face that sneered at her - and her attempts at justifying her actions.

"That's why I can say it. That you're the one running away. Running away from me. Because I'm what you left behind... in order to gain recognition, in order to ape the strong, in order to gain respect. You molded yourself in the image of those you saw as great without even understanding them. You never understood them. You knew nothing of why they became strong. All that you cared of was strength. Knowledge. Power. And that's... that's exactly why you pushed me away. Why you ran away. Because that

me

little girl

you used to be wasn't like those greats," Potemkin hissed, drawing ever closer. "You achieved all those things... and yet you achieved nothing. Because you had no reason. No motivation. Just afterimages to chase. And now that you have that power, now that you have that knowledge, how do you use it...? You don't even know. You have nothing to use it for. It's all empty. All meaningless. All utterly worthless. Because there was nothing to achieve it for. Achievement in itself was the cause... and that made it equal to trash."

She snickered.

"No wonder everyone else hates our guts. Because we ground others beneath our heel for such a stupid reason."

But the snickering stopped.

"And I agree with them. Gazing from the past at what I've become, I understand their reasons oh-so-well. You're disgusting. Utterly disgusting. The worst type of monster who doesn't even realize she's one - who speaks only in excuses so as to not shatter their fragile self image. How dare you? How dare you even say what you did?"

The black pools of her eyes were mere inches away, the white canvas filling now Alexstrasza's world.

"I will never be your friend you piece of filth - and neither will Cesarina when she learns the truth of what a callous animal you are."

And there it was.

Said with utter conviction.

Potemkin took the words that had come out of Alexstrasza's mouth, her embarrassed and fragile declaration of friendship... and threw them on the ground.

And spat on them.

"But... sure. You said you wanted answers? You said you wanted something concrete? Then. Let's start with something simple."

Again, that hand grabbed hold of Alexstrasza's hair and pulled her closer, until the shadow and its owner were face to face once more.

That grin was like that of a shark - without any laughter in it.

"Hey, Alexstrasza Lockhart... you've experienced it now, haven't you? You died. You honest-to-God died. You were slaughtered and your life was ended. And there was nothing you could do. And then you came back. You woke up, and remembered it all. You've properly done it now - you know what death is. So tell me. Does it make you think even a little bit? Does anything in that deep black hole of yours quiver or waver even slightly? After all..."

And there it was again.

That disgusted expression she wore on her face with abandon.

"... You've killed so many people - most without any provocation or even a passable reason. You just killed them because you could. They all experienced the same that you did. Only..."

Her eyes narrowed.

"None of them awoke the next Tuesday."

The second message between the lines was clear.

--- Out of all the people, why would you deserve a second life?