25 September 2037
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Nicholas Romolo Trajedie Remourna Joel Marsetti Antonina Romolo Adam Crowley Jessica Crowley John Crowley

Nick: Wakes up and sits up. Oh man, throbbing headache.
Traj: Lightly presses down on his shoulders. Take it easy, Dr. Romolo.
Nick: Mumbles something about her looking like the Angel of Death. Mind you, he doesn't have his glasses on.
Traj: Lay down. Frowns. I'll fix you some tea, if you would like.
Nick: Sighs and rubs his eyes. …Please.
Joel: I've already got some made.
Nick: Makes a face.
Traj: …I'll get some then. Over she goes… to make her own.
Nick: Thank you, Trajedie.
Traj: You're welcome, Dr. Romolo. Just relax.
Nick: Lays back down in bed.
Woman: Enters the infirmary… About average height, though somewhat statuesque looking. Black hair, streaked with gray, done up in a bun, with dark, demanding eyes.
Joel: Groans a little under his breath.
Nina: Joel! What is the meaning of my son not coming home all day? Had me worried sick… Could have given me a heart attack! Marches over.
Nick: Groans as well, hearing his mother's voice.
Joel: He wasn't feeling well, so I told him to get some rest.
Nina: And he needing to bring bread home for me… Now there's no bread. Had the neighbors over for spaghetti and no bread to offer them. And I told you to mail those letters. Did you mail them, Nicholas?
Nick: Yes, Mother.
Nina: He's so forgetful.
Joel: What letters?
Nina: Just like his father… Wouldn't remember his own name if I didn't sew it onto the back of his underwear. Oh, you know, Joel… Important letters. I was just complaining to the editor of the newspaper about how the produce carts at the grocery are too far over in the street. Someone could trip over them and get hurt. Why, my friend Sally did just that and fractured her big toe. Should have sued.
Joel: Aunt Nina, I sympathize, but we both know that Sally would drown staring up at the sky on a rainy day.
Traj: Did Nick's mother just say that his name is sewn into the back of his undies?
Nina: That's very rude, Joel. Sally is a well-respected lady.
Joel: My apologies, Aunt Nina. I was completely out of line.
Nina: And what do you say to your poor mother, Nicholas? You had me worried sick. I swear, you'll be the end of me.
Nick: Mumbles. I'm sorry, Mother.
Traj: Over she goes to Nick with her tea and offers the cup and saucer, so he can set it down. There you are. It's still hot, so be careful.
Nick: Sits up to take it. Thank you, Trajedie.
Nina: And making that long walk up here. I don't see any tea being offered to me. And I certainly didn't laze around in bed all day.
Joel: I'll bring you a cup, Aunt Nina.
Nina: Why thank you, Joel and I'll be taking a seat as well. Takes one.
Joel: Brings her a cup of his awful tea. Doesn't really know how awful it is, but does know it isn't as good as Nick's, by a long shot, as it were.
Nina: Takes a seat, settling herself and sips the tea. Is that your new nurse then, Joel?
Joel: She is indeed. Been taking care of Nick for most of the day.
Nina: What a shrimpy, sickly looking little thing she is. Goodness. I hope you don't bring home a girl like that, Nicholas.
Nick: Mutters in response.
Traj: I'm… uh… It's so nice to make your acquaintance.
Nina: Hm! And what's your name, Girl?
Traj: Trajedie.
Nina: Tragedy? Shakes her head. The names people come up with these days. I swear, it should be outlawed. Just common decency.
Traj: I… suppose so…
Nick: Actually, Mother… Trajedie's being courted by the Regent.
Traj: Nick… Now she's going to say bad things about Adam.
Nina: Is that so? Looks her up and down. Can't say much for his taste.
Nick: Yeah… Should'a expected that. Sorry.
Traj: …I guess not.
Nina: No offense meant, Dearie but the man's running the continent. Needs a strong woman to take care of him and look after him. After all, they say the woman is the power behind the throne.
Traj: I think Adam would do just fine without any help from me or any other woman.
Nina: Hm! Is that so?
Nick: Actually, Mother… Joel was considering taking Trajedie as an apprentice.
Joel: Oh, yes I was and am! No desire to get Nina started on a rant or an argument.
Nina: Hm. Don't know what's gotten into your head, Joel. Always respected your opinion on matters but can't say I agree with you there. She looks kind of mean… Like she'd be trouble.
Joel: She's really rather sweet. Leap of faith there. But of course, I'll keep a close eye on her, if you think I should.
Nina: Oh, I do… She has that hungry look in her eyes.
Nick: Sips tea.
Joel: Hungry?
Traj: Does not like where this is going.
Nina: You know… Like a weasel outside the chicken coup.
Joel: You think Ms. Remourna is going to… steal Adam's chickens?
Nick: Fights back the urge to laugh.
Nina: You know what I mean, Joel. Shoots Nick a look.
Joel: Of course, of course… Just wanted to lighten the mood is all.
Nina: She very well could… Don't really see how, since there's nothing particular about her but I heard that the regent was rather peaky himself, from Nicholas' talk about him.
Traj: Adam has already made a recovery. Frowns.
Nick: Indeed he has.
Nina: Hmph! We'll see how long that lasts.
Joel: Now, now… No need to be pessimistic. The lad spent most of his days in one of these beds. I'm sure Nick and my good sense rubbed off on him. He'll know not to get himself ill again.
Nina: I hope your good sense rubbed off on him, Joel. Can't speak for Nicholas. Doesn't have a lick of sense. Just like his father. Trying to keep him from dying in a ditch or gutter and the thanks I get is, "Complain, complain, complain."
Joel: It's been very stressful around here, as of late.
Nina: Hmph. Won't get married. Won't give me grandchildren. After all I've done for him. I'm the only reason he's here now and not in the poor house, begging for qu'ats on the streets and sleeping in the gutter, calling himself an, 'actor'! Hmph!
Joel: Nick must have missed this for that one day. The right woman will come along for Nick some day. No need to rush him. After all, I had children rather late in my life too.
Nina: Well you're a sensible and handsome man, Joel. You could stand to be picky and choosy. Now, I can't say the same for Nicholas. I'm afraid he didn't inherit my good looks.
Joel: Now, Aunt Nina…
Nick: Doesn't look fazed a bit. He's heard this so many times. Sips tea.
Traj: I think Nick is a very handsome man.
Nick: Chokes on his tea. Cough, cough, cough.
Traj: It's bad, even by my standards, how she's talking about you.
Nina: Stares at Trajedie sharply. Now, don't you be trying to use your wiles on my Nicholas. He's not good for much, but he deserves better than you.
Nick: Mother!
Traj: Feigns looking disappointed. I hope Adam at least finds this funny.
Nina: Don't tell me you two are having some sort of secret affair. I'd disown you.
Nick: Mutters. Doesn't sound so bad.
Traj: That is so wrong. Just the thought of having a secret affair with someone more than a decade my senior.
Nick: No, Mother.
Nina: Good. And I do hope you get to cleaning out the attic in the next couple of days. You've been promising to do that for a month now.
Traj: He's getting brain surgery, Mrs. Romolo.
Nina: It's not an excuse for laziness. He was fine a week ago.
Traj: …It's not laziness. They're cutting open his head and removing a tumor
Nina: Hmph!
Traj: It's possible he might not survive. Brain surgery is dangerous.
Joel: Don't bait her.
Nick: Yes, Mother. Sips tea. The fact that the symptoms appeared quickly, rather than over a long span of time, is actually more worrisome, as that would seem to point to the tumor being malignant.
Nina: All these big words go over her head but apparently thinks a fractured big toe is worse than brain surgery. Hmph! Die and leave your poor old mother to fend for herself.
Joel: I…I'm sure that what Trajedie and Nick mean to say, is that they're worried about the surgery. Nothing meant by it.
Nina: Hmph! Just like his father did! Pats Joel on the shoulder. Thank you. You're a sweet man, Joel. I wish you had rubbed off on Nicholas a little more but there may be some small hope for this girl here, if you take her under your wing. If she doesn't end up in juvenile detention first.
Traj: I don't see that happening. I'll just use my wiles on the judge and he'll let me right go. Rolls her eyes.
Nina: A smart aleck, hm? Mind your manners, Missy.
Joel: Yes, do mind your manners. Though the defense of my cousin is appreciated, nothing ever comes of it. Best just to weather the storm.
Nina: Nods. It's disproportionately kind of Joel to even consider having you as an apprentice.
Traj: I feel so sorry for Nick now. You don't even know.
Nick: Used to it. Sips his tea, which isn't bad.
Adam: Enters the infirmary at the worst possible time.
Nina: See? What did I tell you?
Joel: …What?
Nina: He's back already.
Adam: Bows. Dr. Marsetti. Doesn't see Nick, as he doesn't expect him to be where the patients are. Madam… Smiles and nods. Trajedie.
Traj: Smiles back. Relieved to see him. Adam, good to see you.
Joel: Oh, he's just here for our nurse is all. Isn't that right, Nick?
Nick: Most likely.
Adam: Smiles. Oh! Doctor Romolo! I didn't see you there, I'm sorry. Are you not feeling well?
Nick: I'm a bit under the weather.
Adam: I hope you feel better soon, Sir.
Nick: Thank you, Adam.
Nina: Clears her throat and stands. I'm Nicholas' mother… Antonina Romolo. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Regent.
Adam: Bows. A pleasure to make yours, Madam. Smiles. I can't thank your son enough for taking care of me all those years I was ill.
Nina: Well, I tried to raise him right, you know.
Adam: Certainly.
Nina: Now, if you could accommodate an old woman with a room for the night? It's a long walk home and rather late. With the state of things around here, I'd be mugged and my throat slit not halfway there.
Traj: Stares.
Adam: Of course, Madam. And I'll be sure to look into keeping our city streets safer.
Nina: This seems to please her.
Joel: It is very kind of you put my aunt up, Adam.
Adam: It's no trouble at all. Pardon me while I consult with a steward. Nods to them all and leaves.
Traj: For the love of all that is holy, take me with you… Oh, he's gone.
Nina: All puffed up by being accommodated by the regent.
Nick: Knows what she'll be bragging about to her friends tomorrow.
Joel: Are you going to sleep soon, Aunt Nina? You've had a long walk, after all. You shouldn't overextend yourself.
Nina: Yes, I think so. I'm positively exhausted.
Adam: Returns with a steward. Madam… Richard here will take you to your quarters for the night. If there are any other accommodations you need, feel free to request them. I hope you have a good night. Bows.
Nina: Thank you, your Lordship. You're too kind. Curtsies and leaves with Richard, who she will no doubt harass.
Nick: Sigh of relief as she leaves.
Joel: Sighs as well and sips his tea.
Traj: Stares after Nina, then looks to Adam. …How was your day, Adam?
Adam: Fine. Smiles. How was yours?
Traj: It was okay… Not very busy.
Adam: That's good. Smiles.
Nick: You're dismissed, Trajedie.
Traj: Turns to Nick and bows. Thank you, Dr. Romolo.
Nick: Putting up with my mother is a feat unto itself. Good night, Trajedie.
Joel: Quite.
Nick: She likes you, at least.
Joel: I don't see why she's so hard on you. We've given into all of her demands.
Nick: Oh, you know, I'm not you.
Adam: Looks to Trajedie.
Traj: Looks back to Adam.
Adam: "You want to go?" eyes.
Traj: "Yes" eyes.
Adam: Good night, Doctors. Bows.
Nick: Good night, Adam.
Adam: Leaves!
Traj: Good night. Leaves with him.
Nick: Sighs. I think my headache has increased tenfold.
Joel: I'm sure she'll leave in the morning, at least.
Nick: Probably drag me with her to clean out the attic and you know how much of a pack rat she is. Groans.
Joel: I think she has things older than I am in that attic of hers.
Nick: I'm sure she does and who knows what kinds of bacteria and mold spores and what-else is in all the dust up there.
Joel: You could just get Trajedie to do it. Laughs.
Nick: I somehow don't think that's in her job description.
Joel: Probably not, but you could guilt her into it.
Nick: You are evil Joel, but I think not. With any luck, I'll worsen tomorrow and you can commit me as a patient. She at least respects your opinions.
Joel: I hope you don't worsen, but how about I just commit you now and say you did?
Nick: Fine by me.
Joel: Very well then. You're officially my patient.
Nick: Laughs a bit and sips his tea. Once he finishes it, lies down again. Pulls the covers up over himself and is soon asleep.

Adam: …Did you have a bad day?
Traj: Frowns a little. That Nina woman called me sickly and skinny. Or something like that.
Adam: Stares at her and frowns. You don't look sickly to me and you think I would know, hmm? Laughs a little, putting his arm around her and pulling her close to him as they walk.
Traj: Smiles and leans to him as they walk close together. Yeah… It shouldn't bother me… You should have heard her earlier, though. She was absolutely venomous, especially to Nick.
Adam: …Was she? Blinks.
Traj: Nods, but sighs. It's his mom though… I really don't have a lot of business going on about it.
Adam: Oh, well… I wanted to accommodate her in part in service to Dr. Romolo… I didn't know she was an unkind person…
Traj: Maybe not unkind.. but cantankerous.
Adam: Nods. Well… Shouldn't send old woman to walk home at night with bandits afoot. Smiles a bit.
Traj: Of course not… You're not safe either, you know… She thinks I'm going to steal your chickens. Laughs a little.
Adam: Blinks. What…? Laughs.
Traj: Shakes her head a little and hugs his arm. Don't worry about it.
Adam: Heh… Okay then.
Traj: Just glad to be away from Nina. Sighs in contentment.
Adam: …I'm running out of good ideas for places to take you… Laughs a little nervously.
Traj: Laughs as well, though not nervously, thinking he's making a joke. What are some of your bad ideas for places then? Joking back.
Adam: Rubs the side of his nose a little. I-I don't know.
Traj: I don't mind where we go at all… Smiles reassuringly at him.
Adam: I-I don't have anywhere to go but my room…
Traj: Then we can go there.
Adam: A-Alright… I-I-I guess I'm pretty boring…
Traj: Hugs his arm tighter. You're not boring, Adam. At least I don't think you are.
Adam: Enters his room and sits on his bed. …Have you ever been to America?
Traj: Sits down on his bed as well, though lays flat on her back, her hands moving behind her head. I haven't. You?
Adam: Nods. Many times. Both of my parents are from there and I lived there for the first four years of my life.
Traj: What's it like?
Adam: …Very different from here… There's no magic.
Traj: That would be strange…
Adam: But they have um… Horseless carriages.

Jessica: Sitting on her and John's bed, looking through a photo album. Feemy was such a cutie. Misses him. Oh, John… Who's this? Points at a picture of her at about 15 years old with straight hair. It's a yearbook photo… She's smiling a bit uncomfortably.
John: Leans in and seems to squint at the picture, as if he were having a great deal of trouble putting it together. …Hmm.
Jessica: Snickers a little.
John: Scratches his chin, his face one of complete and utter concentration. Of course, he knows who it is… but why not mess around a little?
Jessica: Leans and pushes against him a bit playfully. Hehehehe…
John: I… I just don't know…
Jessica: Laughs. It's meee… Leans and pushes a little more, smiling. Hehehe… I've never been very photogenic.
John: Leans back a little in response, though always lets her have the little advantage. Heh… You're perfectly photogenic… but you smiled during your picture… Not very cool.
Jessica: Laughs. My mother would murder me if I didn't smile. She always sent my pictures out to all our relatives.
John: So did my mom. She stopped when they started sending them back though.
Jessica: You're lyiiing!
John: Looks serious, but his eyes do betray him on this one. Am not…
Jessica: Smiles and pushes him again, playfully. Alright then… Who's this? Points to a young man with straight golden-blonde hair and brown eyes, smiling cooly. Has sorta half-lidded eyes. Looks an awful lot like Julius.
John: Julius.
Jessica: Nooo…
John: Pushes her lightly. Now you're lying…
Jessica: Am not! It's not Julius… I swear to God. Smiles.
John: Alright then, who is it? His identical twin? Hm?
Jessica: Yep! That's Alex.
John: …I at least got it in two tries.
Jessica: You're good. Smiles. There's Julius. Points out an identical young man, though with curly hair and a very anxious deer-in-the-headlights smile.
John: …Oh yes, that's him alright. Laughs a little. I miss him.
Jessica: Okay… An easy one. Who's this? Points out a pale young man with short brown hair and a lot of eyeliner. He is wearing a big smile, despite this. Quite photogenic.
John: D, for Daniel.
Jessica: You got it! Weren't we all so cute? Hehe…
John: You were all just adorable.
Jessica: Laughs. You were more adorable then, I bet. An ickle little baby. Pinches his cheek.
John: Actually seems to pout a little bit at the pinch, though smiles soon afterwards. I do have photos of myself when I was younger here in the castle.
Jessica: I'd like to see them. Smiles. I bet you were cute.
John: I could get them now if you wanted. You'll have to try not to be too disappointed when you find out that I've always been this homely. Grins.
Jessica: You are not homely! Frowns. But yes, go and get them. Doesn't think John wants her to flip further in this particular photo album to see her and Daniel at the prom, even if she wasn't dating Daniel then.
John: To get his photo album he goes! It doesn't take a long while to do so and returns to the bed with such an album under arm.
Jessica: Closes hers and sets it aside to make room for John's.
John: Sets his down and opens it… and frowns at what he first sees, quickly turning the page.
Jessica: Hey now… What was that?
John: Nothing at all…
Jessica: Lemme seee.
John: …Fine. You've seen it before… Turns the page back and an eight-year-old John with two missing front teeth smiles widely back at them.
Jessica: Giggles.
John: Heh, okay… Happy? Nudges her gently.
Jessica: Yeees.
John: Turns the page. A picture of Rosemary Sr. holding a little bright-eyed bundle of joy.
Jessica: Awww…
John: The baby him is just staring into the camera, very bright blue eyes. Rosemary is just beaming.
Jessica: Look at your eyees… Awww… Your mother was so pretty, too.
John: She really was… Wow, they were bright. They're not like that now, are they?
Jessica: Giggles. They got a little paler.
John: That's a shame. Probably could have seen in the dark when I was a kid. Flips a few pages, as Rosemary Sr.'s crazy addiction to pictures lends itself to a lot of repeats. A family picture, John looks like he's about six and also seems to think it'd be funny if he stuck his bottom jaw out, rolled his eyes up, and pulled back his bottom lip right in time for the flash.
Jessica: Ewww, you were one of those kids who could pull back their eyelids. Laughs.
John: I was a child of many talents. Turns the page to show a relatively similar picture, albeit with him smiling sweetly at the camera instead of pulling a horrible face.
Jessica: Hehe, I bet your mother slapped you.
John: She looked fit to, alright. It still makes me wonder how she managed to look so happy for the next picture, then drag me out by my ear the next.
Jessica: Mother's are wondrous creatures. Smiles.
John: Yes, they are. Flips a few more pages. Once more, there are a lot of redundant photos unfortunately, though stops when he gets to a certain part, about a quarter through.
Jessica: Looks.
John: Looks around 11 or so. Not even a very particular picture of note, though his expression is a rather strange one. Kind of staring inquisitively at the camera with a small frown on his face. Looks like it was taken out in his yard, impromptu. You could say this is the start of the bumpy road. Lightly nudges her, smiling. You don't want to see a bunch of pictures of me frowning, do you?
Jessica: Oh, why not?
John: Because I'm much more handsome when I smile.
Jessica: Giggles. That is true.
John: Does turn a page though and true to his word, there's really none of him smiling at all or any picture that had aforethought, as if it were kind of a task to get him on camera to begin with.
Jessica: Awww… Hugs him.
John: There is one picture of him smiling, when he flips to the next page, though it is apparently forced. Literally. Two feminine hands perk up the sides of his lips, while his eyes look incredibly disinterested.
Jessica: Aww, John…
John: I was just a ray of sunshine. Chuckles.
Jessica: Pats his cheek.
John: Smiles. I just don't want to make you feel bad, going through the pictures of when I was a jerk.
Jessica: I don't mind… It makes me feel bad for you. Frowns. But I don't want to if it dredges up bad memories for you.
John: You don't have to feel bad for me. It was with your help that I put all of those memories behind me.
Jessica: Smiles and wraps her arms around his neck in a hug.
John: Puts an arm around her, smiling still yet. Using his free arm, he flips the page. The age differences are growing wider, apparently as it got harder to take a good picture of him. One of the pictures displays him staring a little stupidly and sleepily at the camera, mouth puffed up and filled with the cereal he's eating. The other is merely him stretched out on the couch with, oddly enough, a smile on his face. Though judging by how his eyes are closed, he's sleeping.
Jessica: Laughs. I see your mother was sneaking up on you.
John: She was determined to pry a few Kodak moments out of me yet.
Jessica: Eating cereal? Giggles.
John: She was also desperate. Chuckles and flips the page, displaying him standing at the bus stop waiting for… The school bus, of course. Standing beside him, is someone with somewhat longish hair and a smirky kind of smile. A little bulky too, and wearing a button-up shirt. …Huh. Both of them, however, seem completely unaware of one another.
Jessica: It's Ernest!
John: I didn't even know he took my bus.
Jessica: Laughs.
John: We really didn't talk much during school. I only started talking to him when he started working at the market with me. I do remember that Mom drove all the way there to bring me a sweater in case it got chilly. I didn't know she brought her camera with her.
Jessica: Laughs. Awww… Hehe, I bet Ernest was a jock…
John: That's a good bet. From what I did pay attention to as far as school politics go, he was the quarterback for our team.
Jessica: Oh, wow… Well, I wouldn't have been in his social circle, either. Laughs.
John: Laughs. I wasn't in anyone's social circle. I defined myself as a curmudgeon quite early on.
Jessica: Aww, John…
John: Don't feel sorry for me there. The school is a horrible place, where social casualties are strewn all about. I just did my best to avoid all that. Chuckles, turns the page, and frowns.
Jessica: About to say something, but stops and looks.
John: Then laughs. I got the book thrown at me for that one. I think this photo was used as evidence. Leaning back on a bench, cigarette in his mouth. Dressed in a very familiar regalia of jeans and a white t-shirt.
Jessica: Ohhh… How old were you?
John: 15, I think. Looks a little closer at the picture. …Sure of it, 15. My mother and father had conniptions.
Jessica: I bet they did… That's very young to start smoking.
John: I didn't start in earnest until I was 16. I honestly thought it'd help.
Jessica: What, your lung?
John: Not my lung, my behavior. I heard that nicotine had a calming effect, so I tried it. Even I, the steadfast John Crowley wanted, for awhile, to actually not snap at everyone in a five-foot-radius.
Jessica: Did it help? How did your parents not find out?
John: It didn't help much, but I admit, it was enough of an improvement to be noticeable. My mom found out when she thought she'd surprise me by picking me up after school. Usually, I just walked. I should have guessed then that the old woman always carried a camera around. She really liked capturing moments, no matter what they were. I guess she found significance in them.
Jessica: So you got in trouble?
John: My mother hadn't yelled at me since the incident with my lung, except for that time. She was mad like you wouldn't believe. Well… maybe you would believe it. Laughs.
Jessica: Oh, I believe it.
John: Suffice to say, I just remained a jerk anyway. Turns the page and there's Peter, sitting in 'his' chair, asleep with his pipe hanging out of his mouth, hands over the belly that has since diminished a little.
Jessica: Awww.
John: Like a big, sleeping bear. And look, he still had hair, too.
Jessica: Giggles. I'm sure you made him lose that, quick
John: If he didn't tear it out by hand, he probably shed it like a poodle. A surprise older John below that picture? Perhaps at first glance, though the hair color is blonde and the 'John' in question is clutching a cane. His grandfather, looking almost equally disinterested next to his grandson. The family resemblance is quite strong, though. I don't think he visited anymore after that.
Jessica: Why not? You were rude to him?
John: He was rude to us, actually. I think he called my dad fat constantly and was always nitpicking about how much of a mistake it was to move to America.
Jessica: Sighs. Can remember that he wasn't very kind. Can certainly remember him saying John was only marrying her because he got her pregnant.
John: He was just being overall rude. I think we tied for biggest jerk of the year. Turns the page. Each picture, he looks just a little unhealthier, though it certainly builds. Relatively tall and lanky at this point. One of his lanky limbs is being hugged quite tightly by a tan-skinned woman with brown hair and a single lip ring on the corner of her mouth. She's dressed a little boyishly and seems all smiles, though once more, John looks a little disinterested and annoyed, since he seems aware that there's a picture being taken of him.
Jessica: …Sachi.
John: Yeah. Turns that page quickly.
Jessica: Makes no comment.
John: Looks rather aggravated, as he's bent down and put into a headlock by a bald man with a smirky smile and a button-up shirt that is open at the collar. Beside him is a guy looking rather confused, mouth agape, as if to ask just what is going on here. Sandy, curly hair, and with sparse facial hair, as if he woke up with a five o' clock shadow and just left it on.
Jessica: Hehe, Ernest when he was bald and… Eugene?
John: That would be him. He enrolled earlier than this, but I never really saw much of him at all. He was one of Ernest's friends.
Jessica: Nods.
John: Poor foreign kid, probably thought Ernest was trying to get my lunch money or something. I wasn't even friends with Ernest then, either. He was just the type to get hands on touchy-feely with people like that though.
Jessica: Laughs. Sounds like Ernest. Where was Eugene from?
John: Europe. He says he's from Greece.
Jessica: Nods.
John: Not that I don't believe him. English wasn't his first language, for sure. At least we're getting close to the good photos…
Jessica: Good photos?
John: Nods and smiles. Mm-hm.
Jessica: Carry on then. It better not be anything disturbing.
John: It may shock you. Flips a page and there is a well-dressed John, at least comparatively speaking. Wearing a blue sweater-vest, dress pants, and even dress boots to go with them. Managing a half-smile, but still doesn't seem into it. Also appears to have long scratches going down his cheek. My mom begged me for that one.
Jessica: What is that?
John: She just asked if I'd let her take a good photograph of me. I told her of my plans of moving out soon, so she figured she'd never see me again or something.
Jessica: Why're there scratches on your face?
John: I got clawed by an animal.
Jessica: …
John: At the silence, turns the page.
Jessica: It was probably a dog. Looks.
John: You'd be right. Wasn't nearly as traumatizing to me, though. Time certainly flies. Graduation already, it seems. Sticks out as being one of the tallest in the entire congregation. Not much else to notice, since they're all dressed the same for the most part.
Jessica: Giggles.
John: And I still don't look exactly thrilled. Laughs.
Jessica: A tall weed in the flower patch. Giggles.
John: What kind of weed do you think I was? Lightly leans on her, just a tiny bit.
Jessica: One that's hard to pull out. Giggles. And always grows back.
John: Laughs again. A stubborn one, then. Turns the page and there is indeed a large frame of time in which there were no pictures of him at all. He looks relatively healthier, at least much larger, since he's in his 20s when the picture was taken. Wearing the old jeans, white t-shirt, and all. Looks a little perturbed, glancing down at his shirt which has a bright red stain on it. Was seated and next to him was a tall glass of red liquid.
Jessica: Laughs.
John: Leans a little more. Laughing at my misfortune? You're just awful.
Jessica: The curse of white t-shirts.
John: Never could get that stain out.
Jessica: But you still wore it. Sighs.
John: I wasn't very choosy with my clothing. Motions to the picture below it. Pea-green jacket and a dorky red hat. Up to his knees in snow, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, as he appears to be shoveling his parents' driveway.
Jessica: Giggles. I hope you burned that.
John: Not a chance. It's avant garde.
Jessica: Sighs and shakes her head.
John: What? Just a little more leaning.
Jessica: Didn't know that was another word for 'ugly'.
John: I will openly admit to not being a very trendy guy. Stops leaning on her so much and to the next page he goes. Looks healthier yet and wearing a familiar black shirt, a la the one she'd bought for him. Peter is also in the picture, sitting in his old chair and they just look like they're laughing.
Jessica: When was this?
John: Father's Day, a long while back. I told him about Atlantis.
Jessica: Ohhh… Heh. …Hey! Frowns. You just skipped a bunch of years there.
John: These are just the pictures my mom took.
Jessica: Awww… I wanted to know what Elijah looked like between the ages of 15 and 19 and Adam between… Three months and four.
John: I know my mom took pictures of them, at least when I brought them over. I think this album is mostly just dedicated to me, though… A little selfish of me to be showing it off. Well, not selfish, but egotistical.
Jessica: I don't miiind… I like seeing you. I just always forget to ask Eric to show me pictures of them.
John: Turns and kisses her head lightly. I know my mother had an album dedicated to her grandchildren. I'm sure she just stuffed the pictures of Elijah and Adam there… Figured they fell into that category.
Jessica: Well, they did.
John: They certainly do.
Jessica: …Sorry, you can continue.
John: Nothing to be sorry for, honey. Turns the page, and there is a picture with Jessica there. One of the times she actually did visit with him. Both were most likely caught candidly. Rosemary Sr. liked to get pictures most when people didn't notice.
Jessica: …My hair was so cute then.
John: Your hair is still cute now.
Jessica: I know you don't like it short.
John: I think you look beautiful, no matter what your hair looks like. Even when you just wake up in the morning.
Jessica: Laughs and kisses him on the cheek.
John: His own hair is getting kind of long, hasn't bothered getting a haircut Smiles. …Looks like you didn't notice Mom taking a picture, either. Looks like he was caught half-sentence in the picture, so his mouth is open.
Jessica: Heh… Was I pregnant with the twins then?
John: You weren't showing right then… but yes. Uses the arm around her to pull her a little closer. I'm glad I started visiting my parents more often in those days.
Jessica: Nods, laying her head on him.
John: I wish that people would have taken more pictures of her, instead of vice-versa. Hand leaves the album to run his fingers through her hair.
Jessica: Your mother?
John: Nods. Yes.
Jessica: Why didn't your father take pictures?
John: He wasn't the type to, usually. She usually bossed him around in that aspect. Chuckles. She usually just wanted her picture taken when it was with someone else.
Jessica: Awww.
John: If the album wasn't in my father's room, I'd get the one that has the children in it. In her case, some great-grandchildren, too.
Jessica: Aw well, you shouldn't disturb your father. I don't imagine Adam and Elijah visited your parents much during that time anyway.
John: Not often, though I would take them over to visit every now and again when they stopped by. Mostly for my parent's sake than anything. I imagine Elijah and Adam got a little tired of all the doting from Mother.

Nick: Forces himself to wake up. …Joel…?
Joel: Sipping tea. Nick, you're awake. Up and over he goes, to check his temperature again.
Nick: Hot. Your wife…
Joel: As I suspected. Hm? What about her?
Nick: …She's a toad… I-I mean… a witch?
Joel: Would there be something wrong with that?
Nick: S-She's a witch…?
Joel: Not so loud.
Nick: Stares. I'm hallucinating.
Joel: Whatever makes you think that?
Nick: …Y-You married a witch?
Joel: Are you losing your memory?
Nick: …I-I'm delusional.
Joel: How do you feel? Symptoms.
Nick: I'm making believe my cousin is telling me he's married to a servant of Satan.
Joel: How surprising is that, really?
Nick: Veeery…
Joel: I see. What other symptoms?
Nick: Nauseated. Throbbing headache. Shaking and chills. My pulse and breathing seem rapid…
Joel: I see. I'm sorry to tell you this…
Nick: W-What?
Joel: You have a brain tumor.
Nick: I hate you.
Joel: Sleep, Nick.
Nick: H-How can I? Y-Y-You're probably a warlock.
Joel: Do I look like a warlock to you?
Nick: Yes.
Joel: What gave it away? The mustache?
Nick: Yes.
Joel: Was it too trimmed? Not trimmed enough?
Nick: I just want to die.
Joel: You're not going to on my watch.
Nick: I'd rather not work with a servant of Satan.
Joel: Didn't you just say a bit ago that you were delusional?
Nick: It's against my morals. I do have some. We're at war with Demons, for God's sake.
Joel: I know. Do you need a glass of water?
Nick: Not from a servant of Satan.
Joel: Oh, would you cut that out already? Away he goes momentarily and comes back with a glass of water.
Nick: Getting up.
Joel: Sets the water down and presses down on his shoulders. You're not going anywhere.
Nick: D-Don't turn me into a toad.
Joel: Nick, you've known me all your life. You know I'm not a warlock. I was trying to joke, but I see now you're in no state for it. Lay. Down.
Nick: H-How can I believe you… Y-You're married to a witch.
Joel: Of course I am. She's a horrible nag and she hasn't gotten prettier.
Nick: Finally lies down. …I-I hate you.
Joel: Oh, no you don't. Sip at the water.
Nick: Does so.
Joel: There we go.
Nick: Glares at him.
Joel: Don't give me that look. You'd have laughed any other time.
Nick: I-I had a dream… You were telling me she was a witch. Shaking.
Joel: That's certainly strange. Calm down, Nick, I only meant it in the jocular manner. She isn't a witch, by the literal terms.
Nick: Y-You said she turned you into a toad…
Joel: That would be unfortunate… A Joel toad. I wouldn't make a very handsome toad, even if I kept my mustache.
Nick: Stares, going even paler.
Joel: …Well I wouldn't.
Nick: …
Joel: Nick?
Nick: Can I have some sedatives or something?
Joel: That's what I was just about to prescribe, at this rate.
Nick: Tries to take deep breaths, putting his hand over his eyes.
Joel: Symptoms worsening?
Nick: …Which ones?
Joel: Any. Are you feeling especially sensitive to light?
Nick: I'm feeling especially sensitive to crazy. Are there any more blankets?
Joel: Yes. Give me a moment. Extra blankets, he procures and begins to, one-by-one, place them over him.
Nick: No… Please… I'm hot all of a sudden.
Joel: Stops and removes the extraneous blanket he had placed. A little young for hot flashes.
Nick: …And being male.
Joel: I forget that part often.
Nick: …
Joel: I should stop treating you like Nick and start treating you like a patient.
Nick: Can I have that blanket back?
Joel: Chills, I assume?
Nick: Yes.
Joel: Sets the blanket on him once more. I see.
Nick: Removes the hand from over his eyes and looks at the blurry Joel.
Joel: I asked before, are you feeling especially sensitive to light? How are you feeling now?
Nick: It is a bit annoying… I feel the same as I did five minutes ago.
Joel: Very well. Lightly prods his arm.
Nick: …If I die, don't let my mother bury me in a cardboard box.
Joel: I assure you, that I would never. Prods his arm again, albeit harder.
Nick: Is there a reason you're poking me?
Joel: Yes. Takes the glass of water and holds it out to him. Hold this up as high as you can.
Nick: Does so.
Joel: Just watches to see how high and how long he manages.
Nick: About halfway and half a minute.
Joel: When his arm looks like it's going to falter, takes the glass from him. Hmm… You probably already know this, but I am checking which symptoms you are exhibiting and how far along they are.
Nick: Okay. Carry on, then. Bit weird for him to be on the receiving end of this. Is generally healthy.
Joel: Leans in close, face very close to his. Looking into his eyes. Checking for abnormal eye movements. Probably just making him uncomfortable though.
Nick: I feel very much in love now. Eyes look feverish and dart just a little, seemingly involuntarily.
Joel: Was that a joke?
Nick: Yes.
Joel: Good.
Nick: Staring deeply into each others eyes.
Joel: I'm strapping you down.
Nick: Why?
Joel: You very well could start seizing.
Nick: Oh goody.
Joel: Bends back and holds out a hand, holding out three fingers. How many digits am I holding up?
Nick: …I don't know… It's very blurry. Can I have my glasses?
Joel: Very well. Grabs them from where they are located and holds them out.
Nick: Misses them at first but manages to take hold and put them on.
Joel: Ataxia. How long have you been operating under these symptoms?
Nick: What…? You mean bad eyesight?
Joel: No, I mean your lack of coordination, your nausea, your fever, and seeming weakness in your extremities.
Nick: Oh… The fever has been recent… I'm not sure when it started. The weakness as well. Not sure about lack of coordination, since I've been in bed all day. I've felt nauseated for a couple days.
Joel: Very well. Trying to get a feel for how quickly your symptoms are occurring and worsening.
Nick: Nods.
Joel: Away from Nick he goes, busying himself with filling a needle with the contents of a small bottle. If he can even see this far, he would know that he's preparing an anesthetic.
Nick: What're you doing?
Joel: Making sure I'm ready if you begin seizing.
Nick: Yawns.
Joel: Tired?
Nick: A bit.
Joel: Then rest. I'll be monitoring you. Unless you still believe I'm a servant of Satan.
Nick: …I guess not.
Joel: Good.
Nick: Closes his eyes, but doesn't sleep.
Joel: Now it's to the unpleasant task of strapping Nick down, at least to the point where if he does seize, he can actually put the needle in him. Thinks he's sleeping as is, so isn't too bothered. Would rather not have it come to this, though.
Nick: …Comfy.
Joel: Just procedure.
Nick: Opens his eyes again, wincing a bit.
Joel: Too tight? I'm sorry, I can loosen them, but not too much. I have to be able to inoculate you and I can't do that while simultaneously holding you down.
Nick: I understand… The light's just bright… At least I don't have to clean out the attic tomorrow.
Joel: Hm. Keep your eyes closed. Hustles away, dampening a rag in cool water and coming back over.
Nick: Closes his eyes again. I guess I don't need my glasses anymore.
Joel: Don't misplace them. You're going to need them when you're back.
Nick: I'm sure… I'm having double-vision anyway.
Joel: I see. Do you wish to be sedated?
Nick: I don't know. Do I need to be?
Joel: That may be a good idea at this point.
Nick: Whatever you think is best, Doctor.
Joel: Very well. If it eases your mind, the sedative I have will at least help or completely prevent you from seizing. Takes the needle and returns to Nick. First places the damp rag on his forehead.
Nick: …Don't know how I'll get to Paldicia at this point…
Joel: Containing the symptoms until your operation is possible. For how long, I am unsure. I don't believe the infirmary is equipped to properly handle such an operation, unfortunately.
Nick: Between now and Tuesday. Heh. I'm a goner.
Joel: …That is correct. Our option is to have you evacuated to the nearest medical facility that is capable of handling the operation or have it done here.
Nick: I'm sorry, but my mind's not really clear enough to make that decision right now.
Joel: Mine is, which is why I'm having you moved to a better equipped facility right now. Even if I have to wake up the regent right now.
Nick: What's the regent going to do? He doesn't handle transportation. I hardly think this is a national emergency. You're going to stick that needle in me any second now, aren't you?