*{* Stare WELL @ speck.Trackles

Malibu staggered me to my feet, & while blinking away severed Personas not my own, I dusted my pants off to help steaDySteeract mind form upcoming engagements.

A stairwell dwelt behind the panel. It hardly formed 2 swirls, bareLeading a dozen feet 'til we'd hit the next floor. The Gutter was yapping on about Shrieka: "I didn't want you to have that on your mind yet. But they're pushing you unlike anyone aside from..."

I assumed he was grasping for a simple answer, but then 3 seconds passed without resolution. "What are you not gonna to tell me now?"

"Hmm," my mentor nervously rumBloated, and steePaused on the ascension to deliver my troubles. "You & i didn't meet by chance. Hashy started talking to me in a similar desperate manner, after my wife was taken. The twins have prepped some specially tender circle for you to fall into, so there inflates a Cushion while increasing emotional expertise."

I perked. "Like a Club?"

He sighed, allowing his eyes to sternly clasp shut. "Sure, but not involving hobbies. I don't want to distract you while you're slogging in this afternoon's puddle of peril. Phone me later when you reach home. You'll realize new gazes advancing closer to you by time your Graduation rolls around. We got out of the big Jam Jar back there: I promise I'll help you sort Dimensional influence soon." He made a circling motion at my chest with his elbow. "And nobody can say you haven't been an overcoming person."

As if anyone could ever come to Sensation with our zealous excursion provided by a realm-warpinGatling bolter & fortunate escape from a Top-secret Facility in the basement of a shack in some uncharted marsh...

"You really know how to soothe a soul," I aimed distantly, feeling my flesh buckle under fresh pangs of dread.

Gutterson whistled stoically before chirping, "SantArrives with quite a huff don't he?"

We started ascending again. "Always the best packages," I obliged.

Gut decided to whistle (rather off-key) as the next floor fast approached; sudden haunt became how to break the bad news to Siggy. I told him i didn't want to wear the locket… it wasn't safe with me blasting into the Unknown. But handing it back to his ridiculously proud ass wouldn't have gone over any better!

I could practically hear the organ bewailing at my funeral ~ I swallowed knots in my throat. Hopes were that we worked fast enough to avoid horribly upsetting the brigade of Turncoats' schedule.

A door greeted us, & my mentor punched a fancy mechanical bar spanning it's middle, smoothly leading the way. It spread ajar into a poorly lit hallway. The erratic clicking of the ventilation system overhead felt familiar, and when we walked a little further on, so did that water fountain.

"Aha," I enunciated, "So that's where that door leads." I chuckled, remembering my mad scramble to find the bathroom. "If I would've known it was locked, I'da saved myself the trouble and gone the other way. Wait a second. It was previously locked, so how'd you open it just now without a key?"

In a mock-mysterious voice and a swathe of hooey-fooey gestures, my friend answered, "I'm Enigma..."

I feigned shock, to which he quickly added, "Messin' with ya. Key's only necessary from the outside. When I want to leave, I don't want to bother with some derned key. Besides, the stairs compartment is only beknownst between ourselves and a couple other highly regarded customers." He shot a glance over his shoulder. "Only the right people ever see the inside of the place. My place. My rules."

Once again I felt highly esteemed, accompanied by warm fuzzies. I had doubted at first, because sub-par appearance. Then he even let me fire Heschita when he could've done himself, & assured safe passage to the Stock-room and back again. "Right, masterfully hidden unless you wish to make it known." I beamed. "Things were scary as hell at points, especially when all the Warehouse lights went out, but looking back, it was an... asinine avenue, but we resolved it together.

Inwardly, I felt I could never repay him, astonished and overwhelmed to be counted worthy in his eyes. PhasinGuns! Such a long-awaited Day to behold its wonders... (and particularly more cherished for not being able to explore when first desired.)

Malibu snorted, "You were a little premature down there—but you proved that to adapt against cereBrawLapse."

"I'm still swimming," I managed to say, hedged in by a maze of brain benders, "Still processing the engulfment of a world I thought had to behave in consistent ways." - Where were the boundaries now? Which to keep, which to expand?

Ripe memories spiked in my mind: the OBEs, the symbols… & whatever that cloaked creep was. All the distant auras: sure, I'd been frantic, especially when all seemed futile; and I musta hit my head a time or two… but it was all too palpable an objective to simply be figments of my subconscious corresponding to intensified mental state. I took some hard spills, so I suppose head trauma could be a culprit. But it didn't seem likely. If it was spastic, my imagination certainly was never Spectacular as many such as Buck. At any rate, it was exotically inspirational, & I'd try to be on the lookout for more Visitations. Then again, not every piece had been the nicest thing to experience...

"Ya know," I suggested, pondering the structure of the next words carefully. "After being exposed to your corner of the Universe, I'm shifting back into this paltry realm. Do you know how to distinguish between illusion and genuine depth?"

"Illusion?" he harked. "That's just a matter of vantage point, son. It's come to my attention over the years, that every pocket and Attraction is valid, just swirling and overlapping like sinew." We turned a corner in the dingy tunnel and the Lights of the main quarters, sprang into view ahead. "Most humans are just a small fry on the Political power chain and are less actively involved, so when Vibrancy spawns it rattles can be stunning."

I wanted to snap WHY he concluded everything overlapped, but that seemed like a rabbit-hole. "I would hope it's not that complex," I began, with a touch of frustration. Instead, I tried to press my speculations into neat Braids. "What we can say with conviction is there's certainly Mighty forces afoot in this neck of the woods - and maybe it has something to do with you slipping between realms? You ever think you've overstepped a few sensitive boundaries along the way, Gutt?"

"I don't go leafing through Cosmic coordinates anymore," he rationalized. "Although," he cleared his throat nervously, "Unlike the Lights that fashioned Shrieka, certain shadows witnessed, have never been probed. And I don't always know what or Who my customers employ the supplies for."

That hung in the air as we both recognized several relevant scenarios.

"Another thing for sure," I said. "That's at least two exceptions. One more incident in this little corner of the planet and we'll be an undeniable paranormal Platoon."

"And you just want to be fairly normal don't you?"

"No, I don't mind pushing back at the tentacles and teeth of whatever Powers crowd around," I established. "I just don't want to have my life on the line so often, that's all."

"Well that's wise to pace your fortitude," he pedaled. "When each and every struggle you confront, is going to divide you greater than the sum of your parts if you don't shy away."

My pride settled to a hushed glow. Gusty strokes zoomed back to me from Vault-low-High: *Divides cannot be relaxed with additional Pressure... Strategizing & cheering without Flinch?? Revolving dice of freedom<# >* - I felt like an ′isolated little beast,′ (entrenched in 'Torch'errous nests). 

The pressure beforehand, all agitated & degraded me into a skittish flapping turkey. Now I'd gladly let my chums thrust their voices all over the approaching events; the less I had to intervene for a while would be more downright rapturous. For despite the Scepter's restoration, mentally I was sapped.

- __+_-__+_-

As we reappeared beside the Bar from the depths of discreetness, our mates were unsurprisingly, chattering about both videogames and Cultural peculiarities. Rovone & Capone could be seen planted in Trash-talk @ an Arcade station upon the further Balcony. They didn't even notice us stir into the light. Pheo, Siggy, & Trent were not visible, but easily audible from the medical room, saturated with Buck's boisterous enthusiasms appealing for tighter attention being showered around him.

We decided not to interrupt the Arcadian duelers (for various reasons) the heaviest perhaps being that neither of us were eager to attract the Dick'tater. After a brief moment of exchanging a glance about the social depositions, we continued along the pearly carpet beside the bar counter and approached the recovery chamber. Pheo could be heard trading wisecracks in tandem with Siggy about aquatic puns & how it could prove an underfin or beneFish to have tufts of hair or thicker skin. Gutt streamed through the Doorway saying, "Didja miss us?"

Astounded, Buck raised from his mobile medical cot when he laid eyes on what we were towing. "Holy inheritance, Bilbo Bag'guns!" Malibu seemed to be getting ready to Paladin plow back a pack of invaders, harnessing the odd Stalk of Corn between his fist. For a millisecond, even the foliage outside seemed to lean in closer and observe with respiratory systems on hold in admiration of their distant galactic cousin.

Duds ripped a grin beneath his pencil mustache. "Righteous horde thee hoardeth."

I paused behind him right in the door frame, keeping a distance & lowering the Bag, feeling out of the elements almost as bad as foreign exchange student. Nonchalantly, I slumped the exponentiaLode into the corner, wearied. "You're not wrong." I replied. "It basically took a pair of wings to fetch this."

Phoenix reported, "You've been gone well over half an hour. It better be Splendid."

"Yea," Trent ejected, from a purple chair cushion. "We might even have to trade some of that treasure with the pirates to keep them calm: cause looking at that clock next to Pyram, we don't even have an hour to get to the river."

I turned to a shelf on my left. It was 9:45 am. The Turncoats were the last Unit you could afford to delay.

"Naw-haw, just chuck 'em a clock," Dudley rebutted. "Not only will they gain more time, they'll have more hands on deck!"

"Such a dad joke," Siggy rubbed his eye. "Sure the name's not DADley there?"

Trent snickered, & popped up like he'd been sitting on a hot iron and advanced toward the Sack. His eyes glazed as he approached. "Pack a Flamethrower?"

"Granted at great risk," Gutts announced. "We'll share all those momentarily; but before that," he tilted the purple Spout towards me. "Pyram has something to show you." I gawked at him, wanting to shake my head but not wanting to look clueless in front of everyone, knowing he was asking me to perform the healing on Buck.

I tried to procrastinate to dull my squirming reaction. "Wait Gutts, the mess is probably dried out by now. You'll need to prep the area before I do anything."

Gutterson looked confused. But only for a fleeting second. "There I go getting ahead of myself." He withdrew the scar-Blossom. "How could I be so daft? We'll need to irrigate it."

Buck split in, "What are y'all jabberin' on bout?"

I turned and looked square at Duds: "Your health."