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@a-poem-poorly-written
Ah! Hello!
An absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance! Please, call me Sparrow! I consider myself a poet, though I suppose it is left to the opinions of the public if I am a good one. Ah, and I’ve just gotten a new job! Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute. I do ever so love organizing things!
Missing Persons List? You know I get told quite often. But as you can very clearly see I am here, so I doubt it is related!
[Ira wakes up—were they sleeping?—in a room with sparkling, melting floors and walls that looked like windows. Windows? No. That was the floor. They were on the ceiling. Everything moved oddly here. Like a room that spun and spun like an old carousel, but didn’t move at all]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[He jumps backwards on instinct, even though there's nothing to jump back into. Immediately, he reaches for the Eye, but instead of the usual flood of knowledge, there's just... nothing. Static. Where was she?]
[They were met with a staircase. Many of them. Splitting and fracturing in every direction. And an odd sound seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. A sort of warped humming that might come from a running machine. But there was no machines here. Only the dripping walls and stairs and you. That was the better question. Who are you?]
[She reaches for the Eye again. She's met with more static, now accompanied with a splitting headache that makes him grip his head in pain. He's so distracted he almost doesn't notice the question.
Who was she? A Watcher, she knew that. It wasn't necessary to know anything else. Wasn't it?]
[A watcher of what? Of whom? Important things? Important people? What kind of person watches like he does? A monster. Yes. A monster of sorts. But she wasn’t a monster, was she? Monsters were big, scary, had too many teeth and too many eyes and not enough heartbeats to be considered alive. But if alive, oh, if alive it must be killed! Yes. That’s what happens to monsters! Had she been killed? That depended entirely on if she was a monster.]
[The floor swayed beneath her, shadows on the walls stretching into odd shapes that seemed to almost close in on them.]
[She started running. Something in her told him he couldn't think about any of this for too long. Everything would be worse if he stopped to think, so he wasn't going to think. He was just going to run.
She waits and she watches. That's what she does. That's all she does. She waits and she watches. He waits and he watches. It waits and it watches. It waits (for what?) it watches (why?) it will continue (for how long? forever?) for as long as it was necessary (why was it necessary? didn't it want to find out? it wanted to know who it was, didn't it? if such things could be considered to have a "before" and "after." maybe it was always here. maybe the watching was just a dream. a distortion of reality. it never had any eyes to begin with, did it? or maybe the eyes were in the dolls, in the paintings, in the little ceramic faeries, in the bracelets and the photographs and the screens, and that's why they all watched it when it slept.)
It kept running (why was it running?) it stopped running (that's better) and finally began take a look around.]
[It had not moved at all. It had always been in this room. The one with the tall, branching arches that split into impossible directions like fractions and the rows and rows of portraits of things people? that had no eyes and yet all looked down and up and through it. It was being watched. Wasn’t it beautiful? All eyes on you. Do something great. Everyone will see it will see you. But you don’t exist, do you? But oh do you. You are real and tangible and slipping slipping slipping into the funny thought that you aren’t. Why is that? There’s a reason you think that way. Isn’t there?]
[It stood there, frozen. This was what it was, or wasn't that right? It was this feeling, the feeling of being stripped bare, known to your very core, dissected and measured and catalogued away.
And yet it still cowered under the gaze of the portraits like a small child. It had an audience, a real one, for the first time—the first time ever, perhaps, and it had nothing to perform. Why hadn't it come prepared?
It had never been good enough, had it? It'd lost at something a long time ago and it had spent the rest of its life trying to make up for it. Be the best possible subject, the most thorough observer. The be-all and end-all of the very seat of knowledge itself.
The eyes were its kin. Arbiters of the Watcher, and they were here to judge it. Had there been a verdict? It'd never heard one come, but maybe it hadn't been paying attention. Was that why it was here? To be sentenced? But there was only one possible answer.]
[But was there? There could be many. look at me Maybe none at all. Maybe it was just bad luck. Or maybe. . . hey can you hear me? Maybe this was where it was always meant to be. oh please don’t be lost Maybe lost was its natural state. Maybe-]
HEY! WAKE UP!
[She was being shaken by someone standing in front of her. They hadn’t been there before, had they? Had they been looking? What room had they been in before this small one with wood paneling?]
[Her eyes snapped open. She was greeted with a stranger, an unfamiliar room, and—what had happened to him? What was going on?
He shoved the person standing in front of her backwards as hard as she could. Instinctively, her mind reached for… for what? What was she trying to do?
Whatever it was, it hurt. A hissing static noise cut through her head, accompanied by a searing pain that made him clutch his forehead and stagger backwards by a few steps.]
Ack-!
[They stumbled backwards, coming back towards him after they’d regained their footing]
Ohhh gosh I- look whatever you’re doing it doesn’t work here. I’m here to help, I promise.
Where am I? Who are you?
[He took a step back with every step forward they took.]
My name is Sparrow. It’s my job to get people out of here because it’s very dangerous. And I need you to follow me so I can get you out of here, alright?
[She eyed them for a few moments.]
How do I know you're telling the truth?
Well for one thing, this place has done nothing but try to drag you in deeper, and I’m trying to get you out. If it would help we could do introductions first. What’s your name?
[He paused. What was his name? It was something with an I... Iris? Irene?
What the hell? Why didn't she know?
She stared at them in horror.] What the fuck? What did you do to me?
[They sigh, looking very tired and very familiar with this exact situation]
I didn’t do anything. It’s this place, it makes you forget and turns your mind around in all sorts of directions. And if you want it to stop I need to get you out because for some bloody reason I’m the only one who can.
[He stared at the person in front of him. They didn't look like they were lying, but then again, it was difficult to tell. They could very easily be trying to lure her deeper into this place.
But what other choice did she have? It was either come with them or stay in here.
He gave them a reluctant nod.] Fine. I'll come with you. But I expect you to explain what this place is once you're done.
[They nod.]
Right, follow me. Theres only so many places I can make a door. While we walk I need you to tell me as much about yourself as you can remember. Anything that solidifies your identity is helpful here.
[She paces behind them.] ...Well. My name starts with an I, I believe.
And I can remember a song. [She hums the first few notes of "Always On My Mind'.] Something like that.
I, that’s a good start. Not a lot of common I names. Issac, Irene, Ivan, Izzy. Any of those feel similar?
...Irene, I suppose? But it doesn't feel quite right.
[They nod]
Alright. Any idea of a last name? Anything you’ve seen or heard that reminds you of it?
Hold on a moment. Say that last sentence again?
Anything you’ve seen or heard?
...I believe that was my last name, in fact. Interesting how that works out.
Heard, I mean. My last name is Heard. As far as I'm aware, anyway.
Irene-ish Heard.
[They nod, changing directions]
Right. Definitely a good start. And you’re American. Another thing to note.
Okay, just before I open this, any idea of an address? Somewhere you live or even just are familiar with?
…Somewhere in the Midwest, I think?
Hm. Not quite enough where we could just drop you there. Let’s get you out and get your head a little more clear.
[They open a door to a park with a wooden bench, motioning for him to go through]
[She looks around, clearly relieved to be on steady ground in a place whose physics make sense.]
Where are we?
A park in central London. Public, generally rather safe. Easier than dropping someone in the middle of nowhere when they’re not certain where they’ve come from.
[Ira wakes up—were they sleeping?—in a room with sparkling, melting floors and walls that looked like windows. Windows? No. That was the floor. They were on the ceiling. Everything moved oddly here. Like a room that spun and spun like an old carousel, but didn’t move at all]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[He jumps backwards on instinct, even though there's nothing to jump back into. Immediately, he reaches for the Eye, but instead of the usual flood of knowledge, there's just... nothing. Static. Where was she?]
[They were met with a staircase. Many of them. Splitting and fracturing in every direction. And an odd sound seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. A sort of warped humming that might come from a running machine. But there was no machines here. Only the dripping walls and stairs and you. That was the better question. Who are you?]
[She reaches for the Eye again. She's met with more static, now accompanied with a splitting headache that makes him grip his head in pain. He's so distracted he almost doesn't notice the question.
Who was she? A Watcher, she knew that. It wasn't necessary to know anything else. Wasn't it?]
[A watcher of what? Of whom? Important things? Important people? What kind of person watches like he does? A monster. Yes. A monster of sorts. But she wasn’t a monster, was she? Monsters were big, scary, had too many teeth and too many eyes and not enough heartbeats to be considered alive. But if alive, oh, if alive it must be killed! Yes. That’s what happens to monsters! Had she been killed? That depended entirely on if she was a monster.]
[The floor swayed beneath her, shadows on the walls stretching into odd shapes that seemed to almost close in on them.]
[She started running. Something in her told him he couldn't think about any of this for too long. Everything would be worse if he stopped to think, so he wasn't going to think. He was just going to run.
She waits and she watches. That's what she does. That's all she does. She waits and she watches. He waits and he watches. It waits and it watches. It waits (for what?) it watches (why?) it will continue (for how long? forever?) for as long as it was necessary (why was it necessary? didn't it want to find out? it wanted to know who it was, didn't it? if such things could be considered to have a "before" and "after." maybe it was always here. maybe the watching was just a dream. a distortion of reality. it never had any eyes to begin with, did it? or maybe the eyes were in the dolls, in the paintings, in the little ceramic faeries, in the bracelets and the photographs and the screens, and that's why they all watched it when it slept.)
It kept running (why was it running?) it stopped running (that's better) and finally began take a look around.]
[It had not moved at all. It had always been in this room. The one with the tall, branching arches that split into impossible directions like fractions and the rows and rows of portraits of things people? that had no eyes and yet all looked down and up and through it. It was being watched. Wasn’t it beautiful? All eyes on you. Do something great. Everyone will see it will see you. But you don’t exist, do you? But oh do you. You are real and tangible and slipping slipping slipping into the funny thought that you aren’t. Why is that? There’s a reason you think that way. Isn’t there?]
[It stood there, frozen. This was what it was, or wasn't that right? It was this feeling, the feeling of being stripped bare, known to your very core, dissected and measured and catalogued away.
And yet it still cowered under the gaze of the portraits like a small child. It had an audience, a real one, for the first time—the first time ever, perhaps, and it had nothing to perform. Why hadn't it come prepared?
It had never been good enough, had it? It'd lost at something a long time ago and it had spent the rest of its life trying to make up for it. Be the best possible subject, the most thorough observer. The be-all and end-all of the very seat of knowledge itself.
The eyes were its kin. Arbiters of the Watcher, and they were here to judge it. Had there been a verdict? It'd never heard one come, but maybe it hadn't been paying attention. Was that why it was here? To be sentenced? But there was only one possible answer.]
[But was there? There could be many. look at me Maybe none at all. Maybe it was just bad luck. Or maybe. . . hey can you hear me? Maybe this was where it was always meant to be. oh please don’t be lost Maybe lost was its natural state. Maybe-]
HEY! WAKE UP!
[She was being shaken by someone standing in front of her. They hadn’t been there before, had they? Had they been looking? What room had they been in before this small one with wood paneling?]
[Her eyes snapped open. She was greeted with a stranger, an unfamiliar room, and—what had happened to him? What was going on?
He shoved the person standing in front of her backwards as hard as she could. Instinctively, her mind reached for… for what? What was she trying to do?
Whatever it was, it hurt. A hissing static noise cut through her head, accompanied by a searing pain that made him clutch his forehead and stagger backwards by a few steps.]
Ack-!
[They stumbled backwards, coming back towards him after they’d regained their footing]
Ohhh gosh I- look whatever you’re doing it doesn’t work here. I’m here to help, I promise.
Where am I? Who are you?
[He took a step back with every step forward they took.]
My name is Sparrow. It’s my job to get people out of here because it’s very dangerous. And I need you to follow me so I can get you out of here, alright?
[She eyed them for a few moments.]
How do I know you're telling the truth?
Well for one thing, this place has done nothing but try to drag you in deeper, and I’m trying to get you out. If it would help we could do introductions first. What’s your name?
[He paused. What was his name? It was something with an I... Iris? Irene?
What the hell? Why didn't she know?
She stared at them in horror.] What the fuck? What did you do to me?
[They sigh, looking very tired and very familiar with this exact situation]
I didn’t do anything. It’s this place, it makes you forget and turns your mind around in all sorts of directions. And if you want it to stop I need to get you out because for some bloody reason I’m the only one who can.
[He stared at the person in front of him. They didn't look like they were lying, but then again, it was difficult to tell. They could very easily be trying to lure her deeper into this place.
But what other choice did she have? It was either come with them or stay in here.
He gave them a reluctant nod.] Fine. I'll come with you. But I expect you to explain what this place is once you're done.
[They nod.]
Right, follow me. Theres only so many places I can make a door. While we walk I need you to tell me as much about yourself as you can remember. Anything that solidifies your identity is helpful here.
[She paces behind them.] ...Well. My name starts with an I, I believe.
And I can remember a song. [She hums the first few notes of "Always On My Mind'.] Something like that.
I, that’s a good start. Not a lot of common I names. Issac, Irene, Ivan, Izzy. Any of those feel similar?
...Irene, I suppose? But it doesn't feel quite right.
[They nod]
Alright. Any idea of a last name? Anything you’ve seen or heard that reminds you of it?
Hold on a moment. Say that last sentence again?
Anything you’ve seen or heard?
...I believe that was my last name, in fact. Interesting how that works out.
Heard, I mean. My last name is Heard. As far as I'm aware, anyway.
Irene-ish Heard.
[They nod, changing directions]
Right. Definitely a good start. And you’re American. Another thing to note.
Okay, just before I open this, any idea of an address? Somewhere you live or even just are familiar with?
…Somewhere in the Midwest, I think?
Hm. Not quite enough where we could just drop you there. Let’s get you out and get your head a little more clear.
[They open a door to a park with a wooden bench, motioning for him to go through]
[Ira wakes up—were they sleeping?—in a room with sparkling, melting floors and walls that looked like windows. Windows? No. That was the floor. They were on the ceiling. Everything moved oddly here. Like a room that spun and spun like an old carousel, but didn’t move at all]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[He jumps backwards on instinct, even though there's nothing to jump back into. Immediately, he reaches for the Eye, but instead of the usual flood of knowledge, there's just... nothing. Static. Where was she?]
[They were met with a staircase. Many of them. Splitting and fracturing in every direction. And an odd sound seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. A sort of warped humming that might come from a running machine. But there was no machines here. Only the dripping walls and stairs and you. That was the better question. Who are you?]
[She reaches for the Eye again. She's met with more static, now accompanied with a splitting headache that makes him grip his head in pain. He's so distracted he almost doesn't notice the question.
Who was she? A Watcher, she knew that. It wasn't necessary to know anything else. Wasn't it?]
[A watcher of what? Of whom? Important things? Important people? What kind of person watches like he does? A monster. Yes. A monster of sorts. But she wasn’t a monster, was she? Monsters were big, scary, had too many teeth and too many eyes and not enough heartbeats to be considered alive. But if alive, oh, if alive it must be killed! Yes. That’s what happens to monsters! Had she been killed? That depended entirely on if she was a monster.]
[The floor swayed beneath her, shadows on the walls stretching into odd shapes that seemed to almost close in on them.]
[She started running. Something in her told him he couldn't think about any of this for too long. Everything would be worse if he stopped to think, so he wasn't going to think. He was just going to run.
She waits and she watches. That's what she does. That's all she does. She waits and she watches. He waits and he watches. It waits and it watches. It waits (for what?) it watches (why?) it will continue (for how long? forever?) for as long as it was necessary (why was it necessary? didn't it want to find out? it wanted to know who it was, didn't it? if such things could be considered to have a "before" and "after." maybe it was always here. maybe the watching was just a dream. a distortion of reality. it never had any eyes to begin with, did it? or maybe the eyes were in the dolls, in the paintings, in the little ceramic faeries, in the bracelets and the photographs and the screens, and that's why they all watched it when it slept.)
It kept running (why was it running?) it stopped running (that's better) and finally began take a look around.]
[It had not moved at all. It had always been in this room. The one with the tall, branching arches that split into impossible directions like fractions and the rows and rows of portraits of things people? that had no eyes and yet all looked down and up and through it. It was being watched. Wasn’t it beautiful? All eyes on you. Do something great. Everyone will see it will see you. But you don’t exist, do you? But oh do you. You are real and tangible and slipping slipping slipping into the funny thought that you aren’t. Why is that? There’s a reason you think that way. Isn’t there?]
[It stood there, frozen. This was what it was, or wasn't that right? It was this feeling, the feeling of being stripped bare, known to your very core, dissected and measured and catalogued away.
And yet it still cowered under the gaze of the portraits like a small child. It had an audience, a real one, for the first time—the first time ever, perhaps, and it had nothing to perform. Why hadn't it come prepared?
It had never been good enough, had it? It'd lost at something a long time ago and it had spent the rest of its life trying to make up for it. Be the best possible subject, the most thorough observer. The be-all and end-all of the very seat of knowledge itself.
The eyes were its kin. Arbiters of the Watcher, and they were here to judge it. Had there been a verdict? It'd never heard one come, but maybe it hadn't been paying attention. Was that why it was here? To be sentenced? But there was only one possible answer.]
[But was there? There could be many. look at me Maybe none at all. Maybe it was just bad luck. Or maybe. . . hey can you hear me? Maybe this was where it was always meant to be. oh please don’t be lost Maybe lost was its natural state. Maybe-]
HEY! WAKE UP!
[She was being shaken by someone standing in front of her. They hadn’t been there before, had they? Had they been looking? What room had they been in before this small one with wood paneling?]
[Her eyes snapped open. She was greeted with a stranger, an unfamiliar room, and—what had happened to him? What was going on?
He shoved the person standing in front of her backwards as hard as she could. Instinctively, her mind reached for… for what? What was she trying to do?
Whatever it was, it hurt. A hissing static noise cut through her head, accompanied by a searing pain that made him clutch his forehead and stagger backwards by a few steps.]
Ack-!
[They stumbled backwards, coming back towards him after they’d regained their footing]
Ohhh gosh I- look whatever you’re doing it doesn’t work here. I’m here to help, I promise.
Where am I? Who are you?
[He took a step back with every step forward they took.]
My name is Sparrow. It’s my job to get people out of here because it’s very dangerous. And I need you to follow me so I can get you out of here, alright?
[She eyed them for a few moments.]
How do I know you're telling the truth?
Well for one thing, this place has done nothing but try to drag you in deeper, and I’m trying to get you out. If it would help we could do introductions first. What’s your name?
[He paused. What was his name? It was something with an I... Iris? Irene?
What the hell? Why didn't she know?
She stared at them in horror.] What the fuck? What did you do to me?
[They sigh, looking very tired and very familiar with this exact situation]
I didn’t do anything. It’s this place, it makes you forget and turns your mind around in all sorts of directions. And if you want it to stop I need to get you out because for some bloody reason I’m the only one who can.
[He stared at the person in front of him. They didn't look like they were lying, but then again, it was difficult to tell. They could very easily be trying to lure her deeper into this place.
But what other choice did she have? It was either come with them or stay in here.
He gave them a reluctant nod.] Fine. I'll come with you. But I expect you to explain what this place is once you're done.
[They nod.]
Right, follow me. Theres only so many places I can make a door. While we walk I need you to tell me as much about yourself as you can remember. Anything that solidifies your identity is helpful here.
[She paces behind them.] ...Well. My name starts with an I, I believe.
And I can remember a song. [She hums the first few notes of "Always On My Mind'.] Something like that.
I, that’s a good start. Not a lot of common I names. Issac, Irene, Ivan, Izzy. Any of those feel similar?
...Irene, I suppose? But it doesn't feel quite right.
[They nod]
Alright. Any idea of a last name? Anything you’ve seen or heard that reminds you of it?
Hold on a moment. Say that last sentence again?
Anything you’ve seen or heard?
...I believe that was my last name, in fact. Interesting how that works out.
Heard, I mean. My last name is Heard. As far as I'm aware, anyway.
Irene-ish Heard.
[They nod, changing directions]
Right. Definitely a good start. And you’re American. Another thing to note.
Okay, just before I open this, any idea of an address? Somewhere you live or even just are familiar with?
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
You're handwriting is uhm.. legible...
[They smiled a bit, though they looked wary]
Not- not that thats bad or anything! Its just- odd...
[They think for a second before smiling]
Is it? Truly? Oh that’s wonderful. Means all the work I’ve been doing on it is actually paying off!
[It seemed impossible, that much improvement. Literally the day before they’d had to restart a bit of work four times after getting caught up on writing the word “minimum”]
[They laughed nervously]
Yeah.. erm.. you.. how do you spell Minimum?
M-I-N-I-M-U-M. Why?
Ahah... hah... who..
[They took a step away from them, they were shaking slightly]
Who.. are you?
Sparrow? Keats? Your coworker? We’ve been coworkers for a while?
Are you feeling alright?
[The look on their face appears to be genuine concern, but their eyes are. . . brown? And just brown. No odd shifting colors at all.]
You- where is all of your colors? Where- youre not Sparrow... you cant be..
Starling I- I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you need to sit down?
Really, it is me I don’t-I don’t know what about me is so different but I promise it’s me.
Maybe... maybe i do need to sit down...
[They sat down at the desk and stared at Sparrow. Somthing was wrong- they- they arent crazy...]
[They kept working, getting through their paperwork much faster than normal. Occasionally glancing back up at Starling and giving them an awkward smile. Eventually they finish a portion of it and look around]
Do you want some tea if I make it?
No i- im okay thank you...
[They glance at the paper work they havent touched yet]
Are you... completely sure youre okay?
[They think for a second, like there’s something they don’t want to tell them. Then they sigh]
I. . . I don’t know. I think somehow I’ve lost the Spiral. Nothing has changed around me, I can’t make doors anymore and so I ended up late. It’s. . . it’s really confusing but also I feel better. No headaches or anything like that I’m just. . . normal, I guess. It feels strange.
[They move their sleeve up a bit and scratch the back of their neck. Not a single word is tattooed on their arm.]
This is the supernatural stuff again isnt it?
[They sighed]
I... i guess as long as youre feeling better...
I am.
I am worried about you though. I mean, I guess I don’t see what about me I’m not doing that’s worrying you. What am I normally like to you?
I- i guess your whole thing was the Spiral... your handwriting is neat, you eyes arent shifting hues like they normally do, you got your paper work done... you- you dont have your tattoos- you- you just arent the same....
[They look down at their arms. Fuck. It knew it forgot something. It just didn’t think it was so important as something etched into Sparrow’s skin!]
I- I guess it was. . . I mean maybe it’s stupid to try and get it back. I mean after last time with Kendall. . .
Kendall?
[Their doubtful look returned and they fidgeted with their hair]
Do you ever get the feeling that your doing somthing wrong and you know it's wrong but you don't know what to do to stop the feeling?
[Shit. It’d gotten the other one’s name wrong. But for the time being it seemed like Starling at least somewhat believed it]
As in you feel like you’re doing something wrong but you’re not? Or you are doing something wrong and you don’t want to feel like it?
In doing somthing wrong- or-or-or at least somthing is wrong. I can feel it. I- i might go and have s chat with Eda...
Oh um. . . alright. Hope she can help. Anything you want me to do while you’re gone?
Uhm- erm- well- i- I- I do have- I have paperwork I have to- to finish- but- you offered tea earlier- I would like that.. if thats alright
Of course! I’ll make some. You go talk to Eda.
[They leave to make tea]
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
You're handwriting is uhm.. legible...
[They smiled a bit, though they looked wary]
Not- not that thats bad or anything! Its just- odd...
[They think for a second before smiling]
Is it? Truly? Oh that’s wonderful. Means all the work I’ve been doing on it is actually paying off!
[It seemed impossible, that much improvement. Literally the day before they’d had to restart a bit of work four times after getting caught up on writing the word “minimum”]
[They laughed nervously]
Yeah.. erm.. you.. how do you spell Minimum?
M-I-N-I-M-U-M. Why?
Ahah... hah... who..
[They took a step away from them, they were shaking slightly]
Who.. are you?
Sparrow? Keats? Your coworker? We’ve been coworkers for a while?
Are you feeling alright?
[The look on their face appears to be genuine concern, but their eyes are. . . brown? And just brown. No odd shifting colors at all.]
You- where is all of your colors? Where- youre not Sparrow... you cant be..
Starling I- I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you need to sit down?
Really, it is me I don’t-I don’t know what about me is so different but I promise it’s me.
Maybe... maybe i do need to sit down...
[They sat down at the desk and stared at Sparrow. Somthing was wrong- they- they arent crazy...]
[They kept working, getting through their paperwork much faster than normal. Occasionally glancing back up at Starling and giving them an awkward smile. Eventually they finish a portion of it and look around]
Do you want some tea if I make it?
No i- im okay thank you...
[They glance at the paper work they havent touched yet]
Are you... completely sure youre okay?
[They think for a second, like there’s something they don’t want to tell them. Then they sigh]
I. . . I don’t know. I think somehow I’ve lost the Spiral. Nothing has changed around me, I can’t make doors anymore and so I ended up late. It’s. . . it’s really confusing but also I feel better. No headaches or anything like that I’m just. . . normal, I guess. It feels strange.
[They move their sleeve up a bit and scratch the back of their neck. Not a single word is tattooed on their arm.]
This is the supernatural stuff again isnt it?
[They sighed]
I... i guess as long as youre feeling better...
I am.
I am worried about you though. I mean, I guess I don’t see what about me I’m not doing that’s worrying you. What am I normally like to you?
I- i guess your whole thing was the Spiral... your handwriting is neat, you eyes arent shifting hues like they normally do, you got your paper work done... you- you dont have your tattoos- you- you just arent the same....
[They look down at their arms. Fuck. It knew it forgot something. It just didn’t think it was so important as something etched into Sparrow’s skin!]
I- I guess it was. . . I mean maybe it’s stupid to try and get it back. I mean after last time with Kendall. . .
Kendall?
[Their doubtful look returned and they fidgeted with their hair]
Do you ever get the feeling that your doing somthing wrong and you know it's wrong but you don't know what to do to stop the feeling?
[Shit. It’d gotten the other one’s name wrong. But for the time being it seemed like Starling at least somewhat believed it]
As in you feel like you’re doing something wrong but you’re not? Or you are doing something wrong and you don’t want to feel like it?
In doing somthing wrong- or-or-or at least somthing is wrong. I can feel it. I- i might go and have s chat with Eda...
Oh um. . . alright. Hope she can help. Anything you want me to do while you’re gone?
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
You're handwriting is uhm.. legible...
[They smiled a bit, though they looked wary]
Not- not that thats bad or anything! Its just- odd...
[They think for a second before smiling]
Is it? Truly? Oh that’s wonderful. Means all the work I’ve been doing on it is actually paying off!
[It seemed impossible, that much improvement. Literally the day before they’d had to restart a bit of work four times after getting caught up on writing the word “minimum”]
[They laughed nervously]
Yeah.. erm.. you.. how do you spell Minimum?
M-I-N-I-M-U-M. Why?
Ahah... hah... who..
[They took a step away from them, they were shaking slightly]
Who.. are you?
Sparrow? Keats? Your coworker? We’ve been coworkers for a while?
Are you feeling alright?
[The look on their face appears to be genuine concern, but their eyes are. . . brown? And just brown. No odd shifting colors at all.]
You- where is all of your colors? Where- youre not Sparrow... you cant be..
Starling I- I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you need to sit down?
Really, it is me I don’t-I don’t know what about me is so different but I promise it’s me.
Maybe... maybe i do need to sit down...
[They sat down at the desk and stared at Sparrow. Somthing was wrong- they- they arent crazy...]
[They kept working, getting through their paperwork much faster than normal. Occasionally glancing back up at Starling and giving them an awkward smile. Eventually they finish a portion of it and look around]
Do you want some tea if I make it?
No i- im okay thank you...
[They glance at the paper work they havent touched yet]
Are you... completely sure youre okay?
[They think for a second, like there’s something they don’t want to tell them. Then they sigh]
I. . . I don’t know. I think somehow I’ve lost the Spiral. Nothing has changed around me, I can’t make doors anymore and so I ended up late. It’s. . . it’s really confusing but also I feel better. No headaches or anything like that I’m just. . . normal, I guess. It feels strange.
[They move their sleeve up a bit and scratch the back of their neck. Not a single word is tattooed on their arm.]
This is the supernatural stuff again isnt it?
[They sighed]
I... i guess as long as youre feeling better...
I am.
I am worried about you though. I mean, I guess I don’t see what about me I’m not doing that’s worrying you. What am I normally like to you?
I- i guess your whole thing was the Spiral... your handwriting is neat, you eyes arent shifting hues like they normally do, you got your paper work done... you- you dont have your tattoos- you- you just arent the same....
[They look down at their arms. Fuck. It knew it forgot something. It just didn’t think it was so important as something etched into Sparrow’s skin!]
I- I guess it was. . . I mean maybe it’s stupid to try and get it back. I mean after last time with Kendall. . .
Kendall?
[Their doubtful look returned and they fidgeted with their hair]
Do you ever get the feeling that your doing somthing wrong and you know it's wrong but you don't know what to do to stop the feeling?
[Shit. It’d gotten the other one’s name wrong. But for the time being it seemed like Starling at least somewhat believed it]
As in you feel like you’re doing something wrong but you’re not? Or you are doing something wrong and you don’t want to feel like it?
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
You're handwriting is uhm.. legible...
[They smiled a bit, though they looked wary]
Not- not that thats bad or anything! Its just- odd...
[They think for a second before smiling]
Is it? Truly? Oh that’s wonderful. Means all the work I’ve been doing on it is actually paying off!
[It seemed impossible, that much improvement. Literally the day before they’d had to restart a bit of work four times after getting caught up on writing the word “minimum”]
[They laughed nervously]
Yeah.. erm.. you.. how do you spell Minimum?
M-I-N-I-M-U-M. Why?
Ahah... hah... who..
[They took a step away from them, they were shaking slightly]
Who.. are you?
Sparrow? Keats? Your coworker? We’ve been coworkers for a while?
Are you feeling alright?
[The look on their face appears to be genuine concern, but their eyes are. . . brown? And just brown. No odd shifting colors at all.]
You- where is all of your colors? Where- youre not Sparrow... you cant be..
Starling I- I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you need to sit down?
Really, it is me I don’t-I don’t know what about me is so different but I promise it’s me.
Maybe... maybe i do need to sit down...
[They sat down at the desk and stared at Sparrow. Somthing was wrong- they- they arent crazy...]
[They kept working, getting through their paperwork much faster than normal. Occasionally glancing back up at Starling and giving them an awkward smile. Eventually they finish a portion of it and look around]
Do you want some tea if I make it?
No i- im okay thank you...
[They glance at the paper work they havent touched yet]
Are you... completely sure youre okay?
[They think for a second, like there’s something they don’t want to tell them. Then they sigh]
I. . . I don’t know. I think somehow I’ve lost the Spiral. Nothing has changed around me, I can’t make doors anymore and so I ended up late. It’s. . . it’s really confusing but also I feel better. No headaches or anything like that I’m just. . . normal, I guess. It feels strange.
[They move their sleeve up a bit and scratch the back of their neck. Not a single word is tattooed on their arm.]
This is the supernatural stuff again isnt it?
[They sighed]
I... i guess as long as youre feeling better...
I am.
I am worried about you though. I mean, I guess I don’t see what about me I’m not doing that’s worrying you. What am I normally like to you?
I- i guess your whole thing was the Spiral... your handwriting is neat, you eyes arent shifting hues like they normally do, you got your paper work done... you- you dont have your tattoos- you- you just arent the same....
[They look down at their arms. Fuck. It knew it forgot something. It just didn’t think it was so important as something etched into Sparrow’s skin!]
I- I guess it was. . . I mean maybe it’s stupid to try and get it back. I mean after last time with Kendall. . .
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
You're handwriting is uhm.. legible...
[They smiled a bit, though they looked wary]
Not- not that thats bad or anything! Its just- odd...
[They think for a second before smiling]
Is it? Truly? Oh that’s wonderful. Means all the work I’ve been doing on it is actually paying off!
[It seemed impossible, that much improvement. Literally the day before they’d had to restart a bit of work four times after getting caught up on writing the word “minimum”]
[They laughed nervously]
Yeah.. erm.. you.. how do you spell Minimum?
M-I-N-I-M-U-M. Why?
Ahah... hah... who..
[They took a step away from them, they were shaking slightly]
Who.. are you?
Sparrow? Keats? Your coworker? We’ve been coworkers for a while?
Are you feeling alright?
[The look on their face appears to be genuine concern, but their eyes are. . . brown? And just brown. No odd shifting colors at all.]
You- where is all of your colors? Where- youre not Sparrow... you cant be..
Starling I- I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you need to sit down?
Really, it is me I don’t-I don’t know what about me is so different but I promise it’s me.
Maybe... maybe i do need to sit down...
[They sat down at the desk and stared at Sparrow. Somthing was wrong- they- they arent crazy...]
[They kept working, getting through their paperwork much faster than normal. Occasionally glancing back up at Starling and giving them an awkward smile. Eventually they finish a portion of it and look around]
Do you want some tea if I make it?
No i- im okay thank you...
[They glance at the paper work they havent touched yet]
Are you... completely sure youre okay?
[They think for a second, like there’s something they don’t want to tell them. Then they sigh]
I. . . I don’t know. I think somehow I’ve lost the Spiral. Nothing has changed around me, I can’t make doors anymore and so I ended up late. It’s. . . it’s really confusing but also I feel better. No headaches or anything like that I’m just. . . normal, I guess. It feels strange.
[They move their sleeve up a bit and scratch the back of their neck. Not a single word is tattooed on their arm.]
This is the supernatural stuff again isnt it?
[They sighed]
I... i guess as long as youre feeling better...
I am.
I am worried about you though. I mean, I guess I don’t see what about me I’m not doing that’s worrying you. What am I normally like to you?
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
You're handwriting is uhm.. legible...
[They smiled a bit, though they looked wary]
Not- not that thats bad or anything! Its just- odd...
[They think for a second before smiling]
Is it? Truly? Oh that’s wonderful. Means all the work I’ve been doing on it is actually paying off!
[It seemed impossible, that much improvement. Literally the day before they’d had to restart a bit of work four times after getting caught up on writing the word “minimum”]
[They laughed nervously]
Yeah.. erm.. you.. how do you spell Minimum?
M-I-N-I-M-U-M. Why?
Ahah... hah... who..
[They took a step away from them, they were shaking slightly]
Who.. are you?
Sparrow? Keats? Your coworker? We’ve been coworkers for a while?
Are you feeling alright?
[The look on their face appears to be genuine concern, but their eyes are. . . brown? And just brown. No odd shifting colors at all.]
You- where is all of your colors? Where- youre not Sparrow... you cant be..
Starling I- I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you need to sit down?
Really, it is me I don’t-I don’t know what about me is so different but I promise it’s me.
Maybe... maybe i do need to sit down...
[They sat down at the desk and stared at Sparrow. Somthing was wrong- they- they arent crazy...]
[They kept working, getting through their paperwork much faster than normal. Occasionally glancing back up at Starling and giving them an awkward smile. Eventually they finish a portion of it and look around]
Do you want some tea if I make it?
No i- im okay thank you...
[They glance at the paper work they havent touched yet]
Are you... completely sure youre okay?
[They think for a second, like there’s something they don’t want to tell them. Then they sigh]
I. . . I don’t know. I think somehow I’ve lost the Spiral. Nothing has changed around me, I can’t make doors anymore and so I ended up late. It’s. . . it’s really confusing but also I feel better. No headaches or anything like that I’m just. . . normal, I guess. It feels strange.
[They move their sleeve up a bit and scratch the back of their neck. Not a single word is tattooed on their arm.]
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
You're handwriting is uhm.. legible...
[They smiled a bit, though they looked wary]
Not- not that thats bad or anything! Its just- odd...
[They think for a second before smiling]
Is it? Truly? Oh that’s wonderful. Means all the work I’ve been doing on it is actually paying off!
[It seemed impossible, that much improvement. Literally the day before they’d had to restart a bit of work four times after getting caught up on writing the word “minimum”]
[They laughed nervously]
Yeah.. erm.. you.. how do you spell Minimum?
M-I-N-I-M-U-M. Why?
Ahah... hah... who..
[They took a step away from them, they were shaking slightly]
Who.. are you?
Sparrow? Keats? Your coworker? We’ve been coworkers for a while?
Are you feeling alright?
[The look on their face appears to be genuine concern, but their eyes are. . . brown? And just brown. No odd shifting colors at all.]
You- where is all of your colors? Where- youre not Sparrow... you cant be..
Starling I- I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you need to sit down?
Really, it is me I don’t-I don’t know what about me is so different but I promise it’s me.
Maybe... maybe i do need to sit down...
[They sat down at the desk and stared at Sparrow. Somthing was wrong- they- they arent crazy...]
[They kept working, getting through their paperwork much faster than normal. Occasionally glancing back up at Starling and giving them an awkward smile. Eventually they finish a portion of it and look around]
Do you want some tea if I make it?
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
You're handwriting is uhm.. legible...
[They smiled a bit, though they looked wary]
Not- not that thats bad or anything! Its just- odd...
[They think for a second before smiling]
Is it? Truly? Oh that’s wonderful. Means all the work I’ve been doing on it is actually paying off!
[It seemed impossible, that much improvement. Literally the day before they’d had to restart a bit of work four times after getting caught up on writing the word “minimum”]
[They laughed nervously]
Yeah.. erm.. you.. how do you spell Minimum?
M-I-N-I-M-U-M. Why?
Ahah... hah... who..
[They took a step away from them, they were shaking slightly]
Who.. are you?
Sparrow? Keats? Your coworker? We’ve been coworkers for a while?
Are you feeling alright?
[The look on their face appears to be genuine concern, but their eyes are. . . brown? And just brown. No odd shifting colors at all.]
You- where is all of your colors? Where- youre not Sparrow... you cant be..
Starling I- I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you need to sit down?
Really, it is me I don’t-I don’t know what about me is so different but I promise it’s me.
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
You're handwriting is uhm.. legible...
[They smiled a bit, though they looked wary]
Not- not that thats bad or anything! Its just- odd...
[They think for a second before smiling]
Is it? Truly? Oh that’s wonderful. Means all the work I’ve been doing on it is actually paying off!
[It seemed impossible, that much improvement. Literally the day before they’d had to restart a bit of work four times after getting caught up on writing the word “minimum”]
[They laughed nervously]
Yeah.. erm.. you.. how do you spell Minimum?
M-I-N-I-M-U-M. Why?
Ahah... hah... who..
[They took a step away from them, they were shaking slightly]
Who.. are you?
Sparrow? Keats? Your coworker? We’ve been coworkers for a while?
Are you feeling alright?
[The look on their face appears to be genuine concern, but their eyes are. . . brown? And just brown. No odd shifting colors at all.]
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
You're handwriting is uhm.. legible...
[They smiled a bit, though they looked wary]
Not- not that thats bad or anything! Its just- odd...
[They think for a second before smiling]
Is it? Truly? Oh that’s wonderful. Means all the work I’ve been doing on it is actually paying off!
[It seemed impossible, that much improvement. Literally the day before they’d had to restart a bit of work four times after getting caught up on writing the word “minimum”]
[They laughed nervously]
Yeah.. erm.. you.. how do you spell Minimum?
M-I-N-I-M-U-M. Why?
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
You're handwriting is uhm.. legible...
[They smiled a bit, though they looked wary]
Not- not that thats bad or anything! Its just- odd...
[They think for a second before smiling]
Is it? Truly? Oh that’s wonderful. Means all the work I’ve been doing on it is actually paying off!
[It seemed impossible, that much improvement. Literally the day before they’d had to restart a bit of work four times after getting caught up on writing the word “minimum”]
[Sparrow had come in late that morning, their hair tied up and looking a bit tired.]
Morning, Starling!
[They sit down at their desk and start working through paperwork, their handwriting had improved significantly, and the notepad they usually scribbled in with their off hand was noticeably absent]
@a-poem-poorly-written
[When they saw sparrow come in, they smiled and waved like they normally do. Every now and again they would glance at sparrow, this is when they noticed the lack of notepad]
You uhm.. forgot your notepad, did you lose it? I can help you find it if you did.
[They stupid up and walked over to sparrow's desk to look for it, they glanced at their handwriting and paused]
Oh! Um, yes. Yes I probably ought to find that. I had spares in. . .
[They open a drawer in their desk and rifle around a bit, then glance up at Starling]
Something wrong?
[Eda is seems had been spending more and more time in her office than usual. At first it was normalish, but as time went on it got much much worse. She also seemed to be avoiding her assistants]
[Eda entered the archives with her head down and her gaze fixed on the floor]
@edalynn-pines
[Sparrow jumps up from their desk, determined to get her attention before she went back in her office again]
Hey! Eda! Can I borrow you a moment? It’s important.
[She tensed for a moments and laughed nervously]
Well- i- I suppose it depends. I- i have s couple of things to do so- so yknow.
[She did her best to avoid looking at Sparrow while making it look like she was looking them]
Really, it’ll be just a moment I just need your help.
[They click through a few things on their computer, eventually making it to an audio file. A recording of a statement]
I’ve got it most of the way transcribed, but I cannot for the life of me figure out what this man is saying. Starling and Ray can’t either, can you just like, know what he said here?
[They play the audio, which sounds fairly normal until the statement giver said something entirely incomprehensible]
[She stared at the computer for a few moments from over Sparrow's shoulder, though her eyes lacked the usual green glimmer]
I uhm... i...
[She inhaled sharply and covered her mouth, taking a few steps away from sparrow]
[
[They look at her with concern]
Are you okay?
[She laughed nervously]
Yes, yes, fine. Sorry. Sorry...
Are you sure? I mean you haven’t exactly been well lately, are you sure you don’t need to sit down?
I... im- im fine- I just-
[Her gaze was fixed on their neck, and she was starting to breath a bit heavier]
I.. im okay... im fine.
You really don’t look fine. Do you need to go home? We can pick up whatever you had to do today. I think we only had one person coming in for a statement.
Im fine!
[She snapped. She needed to get out of here. She didnt want to hurt them, she didnt want any of this.]
[They jump back, their form slightly distorting when they were startled. They stuttered now, their eyes shifting colors much faster now]
Um. . . o-okay. . . right.
S-sor-sorry. . .
I’ll just- just- I’ll just fig. . . figure this o-out. S-sorry you ca-can go back to- back to what y-you were d-d-d-doing.
I- fuck- Sparrow im- im so sorry.
[She uncovered her mouth.. slightly were those.. fangs?]
I- i- I can still help-
[They nod, scribbling furiously in their notebook with their off hand, trying to settle the spiral]
I-it’s okay, I-I-I-I—[They let out a frustrated sigh]—sp-spiral. It’s a- a Spiral th-thing. The st-st-stutter-ring. Just sca- scared me. That’s- that’s- that’s- thats- that’s-
[They hold up a hand that seems to be in three places at once, writing some more]
That’s a-all.
[They glance at her mouth and almost seem to smile a bit]
O-oh my god I kn-knew it. . .
[She looked very concerned by the stuttering she took a few steps backwards, away from sparrow]
Knew... no! No you dont! You- you dont know anything! You- i- im normal! I-
[She covered her mouth and shrank back]
Get away from me!
H-hey! Ed-Eda wait! Wait don’t- don’t! I did-didn’t mean it’s bad!
Just-
I-I’m sorry. Are you o-okay?
I-
[She was quiet for a few moments before she shook her head]
I- im not. I- i- im afraid im not...
S-s-so—[They take another long breath and write another few sentences in their notebook. Reality seems a little more real around them]—So maybe sitting down and- and talking ab-b-bout it might help.
If we knew- knew what was going o-on. We can help figure. . . figure things out. Even if we need to get away. Know- knowing why would mean it would be safer.
[She looked conflicted, then sat down where she was standing, away from Sparrow]
What do you want to know?
[Her voice shook slightly]
What’s been up with you. Why you’ve been avoiding us. Sure you’ve got some level of background paranoia but this is extreme even for you. What’s going on?
I... i have messed up. Very badly. Worse than usual. Ive been avoiding all of you because I just wanted to keep you all safe without bringing up too much suspicion i... i dont- ive... been feeling.. a very terrible terrible urge to uhm... bite and kill and feed and-
[She took in a deep breath]
And i- I- I didnt want to hurt anyone..
So we were definitely right about the vampire thing then. Ray owes me twenty quid.
[They laugh a bit, then look guilty]
Sorry, not the time, I know.
Um. Yeah. Yeah very concerning. Probably a good thing we discussed it now instead of all of us trying to get into your office at a bad time. Is it specifically people? That you um. . . y’know want to kill?
Yes.
[She smiled showing her fangs fully, but it fadded quickly and took in a few more shaky breaths]
Though i dont appreciate being bet on, i- I didnt know before hand! This is bad- i havent been able to watch like I used to- i- gods above.. why did i do this to myself?
Well, we weren’t really taking it seriously but. . . yeah. Right. More important things.
Um. When did it start? What did you do how did you uh. . . get vampirized?
So....
[She had a really guilty look on her face]
Yknow the vampire skull and also blood i have in my office?
[She smiled]
Oh boy. . .
I do. What about them?
Well, in a mess of me fucking around and also being half asleep, I managed to stab myself, stumble around in a panic, knock down one of my shelves, get the vampire blood on my stab wound, then I panicked some more and I think thats how this happened.
[They should have looked shocked, but this was Eda. And therefore a completely believable scenario]
I see. . .
And now you are a vampire. Um. What can we do about that? Can you like. . . un-vampire someone? Or is it the end of garlic bread in the archives?
Unless you want to drive a wooden steak through my heart, then I do not belive I can be cured of my vampirism...
[She paused and gave sparrow an odd look]
Garlic bread was never allowed down here, im allergic... i think. Or maybe.. never mind.
Right. Cure taken off the list.
And in that case. We will continue having no garlic bread in the archives and as far as you’re concerned we’ve never had it ever.
So I guess we have two options from here. Get a camera crew and make the pilot episode for “Help! My Boss Became a Vampire!” or, we figure out how exactly we’re supposed to manage you being a vampire and also not being able to quit. Obviously you can’t kill us but you need to kill someone. So. . . question is who. I mean there’s plenty of assholes in the world.
[She blinked at them a few times and shrugged]
I am not a good actress, I must warn you, in case you are being serious about the first option.
[She tore her gaze away from sparrow once more and but her lip to distract herself from wanting to bite the other]
I dont know.. I really dislike violence...
Um. . . blood banks then? I mean there’s got to be other vampires who don’t like violence. What do you think they do?
I can't just waltz into a blood bank and ask for a bad of blood. The vampires that dont eat Starve and die, or at least get significantly weakened. Vampires tend to hand around nightclubs because they like to blend in with the people there and get a free meal, but.. i think im too old for that.
That’s a matter of opinion, but I see your point.
[They spin around in their chair]
What about a flesh avatar? They’ve got to have some extra blood lying around. Bones are like legos to them. Surely they’d have some kind of solution.
Or there’s gardening blood meal, if you can stand the nitrates.
[When sparrow mentioned a flesh avatar she cringed]
I do not think flesh avatars are particularly sanitary- whats a gardening blood meal?
It’s powdered, freeze dried blood that people use to fertilize plants that need a lot of nitrogen. We used it at the library in the community garden.
[They paused after they said it]
Or- Wendell did. Why do I know that?
Wendell who?
[She tilted her head]
I dunno if I would want to eat plant fertilizer...
Wendell is- well, unimportant right now. Point is your other option is people. Or maybe some other kind of live thing. I’m sure there’s about a thousand rats in the tunnels.
I am not catching rats in the tunnels like a cat.
[She crossed her arms]
[They lean back in their chair and rolled their eyes]
You know you’re being really picky for someone who doesn’t want to eat people.
I never said that, I just dont want to HURT people. And... biting a rat doesnt sound very erm.. appetizing
So go find a morgue or something! Just tell them how old you’re turning this year, they’ll probably let you right in. And it’s not like you’re averse to committing crimes!
But- if I try to drink the blood of a dead person- I wouldnt be able to! The heart would have stopped beating!
Okay! I’ve never been a vampire before I’m not exactly certain how this works, Eda!
[They take off their glasses for a second, burying their face in their hand in the same fashion a disappointment parent would]
Can you do it without killing someone? Like not drain them entirely?
Good idea! Ill have to experiment!
[She glanced around]
Not- not on anyone here... probably.
Not on anyone here definitely.
Just pick somebody you don’t like. Or someone who would be willing to let you do that. Just. . . not any of us.
[She hummed]
I cant think of anyone... do you think Lucy would get mad if I experimented on her brother?
She has a brother?
I mean she seems rather nice, though I’ve only really met her once. Does her brother get a say in this at all? And out of curiosity what do you have against him?
No. He dosent deserve a say- that Bastard
[Shw growled Before she smiled]
Ill get payback! Good idea Sparrow!
[They chuckle]
See? This is why you tell us things instead of avoiding it. That’s what archival assistants are for.
Is it? No- I dont tell you three things for many reasons, and i will continue to so... probably.
[She adjusted her coat]
[Sparrow sighs]
Alright then, keep your secrets. Go murder that guy or drain him or whatever it is you’re planning.
And then tell me how it goes because this is interesting.
