[Mage 2: The Dethroned Queen] The Dead Memory of Dr. Gorlay

Out of Character (OOC):

Venue: Mage: The Awakening 2nd Edition

Chronicle: Mage 2: The Dethroned Queen

Story: The Asylum

Chapter 2 – Scene 3 “Trail of Blood”

Storyteller: Jerad Sayler

The Dead Memory of Dr. Gorlay

The following is an excerpt is from an active play-by-post Story Plot starring Chimera (Hannah Nyland), Jack Bismuth (Alex Van Belkum), Overwatch (Andrew Buchman) & Eos (Jerad Sayler).  The Story is called The Asylum and involves the supernatural badness of the Jamestown State Hospital in Jamestown North Dakota.

The characters have discovered that Dr. Mathew Gorlay is an historical figure most likely responsible for an infected hole in reality.  Either a Wound or a Malus Loci under the main old hospital building that is now a correctional center.  They traced the location of Gorlay’s body to a cemetery outside of Pensacola Florida.  There Chimera performs a Memory Regression spell on Gorlay’s corpse sympathetically.  Normally Memory Regression is a Mind spell that allows the caster to relieve past lives.  This heavily altered, her version allows her to view the past lives of a dead person (Mind 3 + Death 3).

Chimera: Chimera tosses Eos a soda from her position sprawled on the couch once she walks in. "So . . . demons in Jamestown. Not the socially awkward bug-gal kind either. We can't permanently destroy them unless we go to hell, which is a pretty bad idea, but they won't return unless something summons them. The giant gaping hole under the prison is probably a big part of the problem, and we can't fix that without destroying the Missionary."

"The Doctor has agreed to stop blocking my efforts, we know her general wing, and I've got a small platoon of Cat spirits on call. Where do we start?"

Jack: "We should go in half-cocked, but sure of our ability to emerge victorious; then, when the place is burning down around our ears, we proclaim that it was a job well done," Jack doesn't look up from the novel he's reading: the latest Dresden Files book.

Then, he does look up, "More seriously, I'm not sure where our starting point is, but we have a history of overwhelming force we're working with, here, so I think we're operating under a "the perfect is the enemy of the good" situation. I say we just stick together and go for a target we can pick out."

Eos: Eos catches her favorite soda and pops it open and takes a swig. She belches happily and not very lady-like and then gets caught up on the situation.

"So... demons. What kind of demons are these now?"

"The Missionary, I feel like you guys usually have more information before going into a situation like this. What do we know about her?"

Chimera: Chimera blinks a little, surprised. “I think I’m rubbing off on you, Eos.”

“Infernals. Entities of Vice and an inherent desire to ruin and exploit reality. Our buddies from Abaddon; they can pop up on this plane when a place starts resonating too much with it. That involves some truly horrific acts occurring in said place to desecrate the spiritual climate and create fissures in reality. More of them will show up in Jamestown later unless we solve the problem.”

“This one was in town looking for something or someone; had a stream of information of some kind connecting them. It also had an “unborn child” as its Bane, and was unable to hurt a pregnant woman. It’s impossible to tell when one of their kind is lying, and you can’t force information out of them. That’s why I was wondering about looking for the man who was lobotomized in the attack earlier. We can’t directly get information on the Akothertoi via most spells on them, but we might be able to find out something using him as a focus.”

“The Missionary is the Anchor for that sore in reality – that digestive tract under the prison. We need to destroy her to get rid of it. According to my sources, the place beyond that sore is a land of oblivion ruled by amoral religious beings like her. And she’s here to convert us,” she says with grim humor.

“Even just getting a peek at her home dimension completely mutilated at least one spirit in mind and body, so I don’t advise trying it. Plus, getting there at all will involve us doing horrible, disgusting things. Unfortunately, going there is probably the only way to permanently destroy her, so we may have to settle for making sure she doesn’t come back.”

“She wanders around the grounds, and the entire East wing is her domain, with other corrupted beings like her having their own territories spread out; the Lobotomy is probably one of those. She makes life objectively worse for everyone on the grounds by spreading madness, violence, and suffering, and tries to silence patients who talk about her freely.”

“What else . . . the Doctor has agreed to not bother us as long as we search as long as we stay off of his part of the hospital; the ground floor of the West wing.”

“As far as a physical description, she doesn’t have a nose, or lips. There were iron blades coming out of her flesh.”

Eos:  "Okay right, the digestive tract. That was in the Shadow right? Or Twilight? What's there in the real world? Anything?"

"What happens if we go down the digestive tract? We go to hell?"

Azazel: "A hellgate, hellmouth if you prefer. Maybe." Azazel says as he materializes, hanging from a ceiling fan. (It's off, he's not making laps)

Eos: Eos frowns. "And the Missionary wanders around. So what stops us from intercepting her and sending her back to where she came from now that the creepy doctor in the Shadow is playing nice...?"

"We ever find out about that doctor? Not Freeman, Moorcock and wasn't their another one?"

"Also... While I'm trying to wrap my head around all this, another kind of demon, another plane of existence to consider (why aren't any of them pleasant!!?), what could have happened deep below the hospital that was bad enough for the hospital to get its own throat cancer monster? Just how deep underground were you?"

"I just wonder if looking back all Sherlock and figuring out what caused all these spiritually bad things to happen if it would show us how to beat them. Banes right? Also that walled up supply closet DID lead us to the Lobotomy kit stuff."

"So let's see. We torched and walled off that old sensory deprivation room with the rat bug lizard swarm. We secured a Locus and put it under guard, smoked one demon We blew up, well, you guys that demon tonight. Made a deal with the doctor. Shadow people... No idea what's up with them. But the whole place under siege. How many more demons could be left? Wait, I thought those were infected spirits... How does that work?"

Azazel: Azazel opens his wingspan in supplication. "The Akothertoi are very crafty. The Horsemen haven't really encountered this but there is lore to support the theory that "evil" ghosts, spirits, and goetics with the right trigger and resonance can take on a sort Infernal parasite or miasma that slowly turns them into demons. These hybrid Internals are called Diabloi (Diabolus is singular). When Shadow spirits contact the disease and reach maturation they are referred to as Immundi (singular Immundus). I believe we can expect more but I suspect the Missionary is an actual native of hell. A Dominion."

Eos: "Gotta love the way mages need to categorize and label everything, even shit they barely understand," Eos quips. "I don't really see how knowing to call one Diablo and another an Mundus helps anything."

Azazel: "The Immundi are a subtype of Diabloi. It is merely shorthand for saying 'An Infernal entity we suspect started as another ephemeral, this one being a spirit native to the Shadow that may have undergone transformation." Azazel replies dryly, fully in occult instructor mode.

Eos: Eos sticks out her tongue at Azazel.

Azazel: Azazel replies by extending his long narrow fruit bat tongue in response.

Eos: Eos shakes her head.

Azazel: "Speaking of transformation. Did we ever make a determination on the odd implants you mentioned in our previous talks about the hospital?"  Azazel asks.

Chimera: "Well, I fell into the mouth and just got mentally torn up. I think you have to do something special to actually get to Hell from there. I don't think there's much down there officially, though . . . maybe there are some tunnels or something that aren't on the maps. Usually stuff in the Shadow is a reflection of the resonance that's already there; it would be a bit unusual if the digestive tract just materialized out of solid earth with no mundane grounding."

"Nothing is stopping us really, beyond the fact that we're not sure if killing her will actually solve the problem or not. It *should* get rid of the Hellgate, but we don't know what triggered all of this in the first place."

"There was also Dr. Werner, the original hospital director who retired, and Dr. Fisher, who was Moorcock's supervisor. Or were you thinking of a different doctor?"

"Implants . . . the one on the back of the demon's head? Or something else? There's been so much weirdness there that I might be missing something."

Eos: "Yeah, the metal things in the backs of their heads. These demons don't have faces and tend to have strange metal things implanted in them. Not sure how that even works, they are ephemeral and the implants must be too."

"Huh. I thought there was another one. Dr. Gorlay?”

Chimera: "Right! He did something messed up that resulted in that crippled patient ghost. You really wanted to get him back for it . . .”

"I'm not sure about the implants. Possibly some way of receiving information? The one we just fought was following some sort of signal, tracking something."

"We don't have one of them here to study it, but I could always to Divine it. I'm not sure if that would count as "taking" information from them or not though. If it does, it's probably not going to work."

((Casting improvised Space + Spirit to try to Scry the physical counterpart of the Shadow mouth she visited earlier and determine its distance from the surface. 4 Gnosis + 3 Space + 4 Rote = 11 - 8 for Potency 4 = 1 success. 1 Reach Instant, 1 Reach Sympathetic Range. It's a Rote, so no Paradox from Reach. Sympathetic Yantra - she's going to draw a detailed picture of what the Hellmouth looked like, from her direct and scarring experience of being there. 1 Reach to increase the Duration to Advanced, so we can poke around without having the window shut on us after 3 turns. Still no Paradox.))

Storyteller: Chimera, for the Shadow directed scry... You catch flashes of a room. Steel tools, a stainless steel table with a rusty basin. Blood stains si old they are just brown flakes, a sealed door. There is a room there. But a dark presence rears up pushes back all exterior influence layout. You see the maw again and the vision ends

Chimera: ((She asks Divination which man (if any) will give her the information best suited to figuring out the mystery of the hospital: Moorcock, Gorlay, Freeman, Werner, or Fisher?))

((Divination = 12 = 4 successes. 4 Potency. Rote, so no Paradox. 1 Reach for instant. The question is the above.))

Storyteller: Chimera, you conduct your divination. The Tarot cards speak of a bleak and clinical man. One who has wandered outside of mortal law and further still. He was enabled by some of the others. He did horrible things to the innocent. Gorlay.

Chimera, for a brief couple of moments you aren't you. You’re on an operating table and you in excruciating pain. You can't move much, some paralytic? And you’re coming around, out of unconsciousness.

"How do you feel?" A doctor that reminds you of the spirit Doctor Dispatch says, peering over blood soaked robes.

You scream. You claw to an upright position. Your body isn't right. Something is very wrong with your abdomen and it hurts.

The doctor shakes his head. "Reproductive organ transplant experiment. Suspected failure. Let's see how long you live first shall we?"

You snap back to yourself like coming out of a hazy nightmare of pain and 1930s surgical tools.

Chimera: Chimera shivers and clutches at her abdomen for a moment before coming fully to. "G-got our man. Gorlay."

((2nd question: where is Gorlay's grave or similar place of rest? Or to phrase it better for a Divination: where would *I* need to go to arrive at Gorlay's grave or similar place of rest? (has to have a future component).))

Storyteller: You see heavily worn headstone. Corroded with black. Mathew Gorlay. Born 1868. Died 1934. May God have Mercy on his Soul.  Escambia, Florida.

Chimera: Chimera shares this information with her Cabal and then prepares to portal to the gravesite.

((Location = 4 Gnosis + 3 Space - 2 Potency + 1 Tool = 6 = 1 success. 1 Mana Instant, 1 Reach to make it a portal to the grave site. 1 Reach to swap Primary Factor to Potency. Dedicated Tool reduces Paradox to chance. Weak Sympathy reduces Potency to 1. Open one round. Mind 2 and Fate 2 incorporated so the portal is no likely to be noticed))

Eos: "I'll see what I can find on Gorlay." Eos says as she pulls her laptop out of her satchel and plops down on the couch.

Storyteller: The portal opens.

Eos: Eos blinks at her screen. "Okay first I need coffee." She heads for the kitchen to brew a pot, it’s going to be a long night.

Chimera: "Here, have a research buddy." She extends an arm, and Azazel launches off to land on Eos' shoulder. Chesulloth skulks after Chimera through the portal.

Eos: "Oh hey Azzy," Eos smiles as Azazel lands at her abandoned keyboard and starts typing.

Storyteller: In an instant the portal closes and Chimera is left in a cemetery in the muggy Florida air. It's sprinkling.  Welcome to Resthaven Gardens Cemetery in Brent, FL, outside of Pensacola.

Jack: Jack creates his own portal, locking onto her distortion in space and follows.

Overwatch: Overwatch and Eos remain at the Sanctum, Chimera and Jack proceed to the grave site.

Chimera: Chimera looks at Jack curiously. "Coming along for the ride? This is probably going to get nasty. By all accounts, Gorlay was a pretty terrible person." She starts to pace around in the mud, looking for his gravestone. It should be nearby.

 ((Past-Life Regression: Mind 4 (Using Time 3 + Death 3) + Gnosis 4 + Location Yantra 1 = 9 – 6 Duration (five turns in the real world, which according to the spell description, should be much longer relatively as experienced inside her head/Gorlay’s life) = 3 = 1 success. Withstood by weak connection 3. Potency on success = 1. 1 Reach instant. Sympathetic Yantra is the blood and the grave.  1 Mana spent to make the casting Sympathetic))

"Never done this before," she admits to Jack. "This is going to be . . . taxing; I might need some help if I come back really disoriented."

Chimera whips out her pocket knife and pricks her thumb with it; dabbing the bead of red that wells up onto the cold stone. With her index finger, she traces the blood into the shape of an inward spiral, over and over again; a symbol of the consciousness retreating into the labyrinth of the mind. Her breathing slows as she continues the repetitive motion, and in under a minute she’s out like a light, so still that an onlooker might think her dead on first glance.

Chesulloth: Chesulloth perches on top of the gravestone, looking over Jack and Chimera with watchful compound eyes. A small but brilliant channel of power flows between the master and familiar as Jack’s Unseen Sense flares.

((Ches is going to help by using her Revelations Influence (Strengthen) on Chimera. I think this is an appropriate time for it. 3 Power + 2 Finesse = 5 = 2 successes. The goal is to increase the clarity or value of the information she learns or otherwise help her parse the past life, since this is a “revelation” of Dr. Gorlay and part of the mystery.))

Storyteller:

Mathew Gorlay was from Switzerland. He studied there and then finished his MD at Yale as a gifted student of anatomy and neurology. He had trouble finding a place where his talents would truly be appreciated as many of the old guard balked at his revolutionary ideas about the treatment of the insane. He needed authority and flexibility to exercise creativity, to test radial theories.

By the time he came onto the scene at the Jamestown Asylum he was already reputable in his published works on the limited testing he had been allowed to do. He had been working for a decade at the Waverly Hills Sanitorium and had become as cruel and calculating with his patients as if her were inspecting insects, or machine parts. All just meat. Less than human in his eyes. A canvas to paint with.

In March 1921, after three months of uncertainty as to the future of the Jamestown Hospital, Farnsworth W. Weaver, director of Weaver Pharmaceuticals, Inc. steps in as director. Weaver is not a doctor, and so takes on as the Head of Medicine Dr. Matthew Gorlay, hiring him to come from Kentucky.

You feel obsession, desire... it burns in you like a primal fire...

  

Over the next year, Weaver spends all his time renovating the grounds. Parts of them have been left dilapidated for over a decade. Weaver turns the office spaces of the East wing of the main hospital into private rooms for some of the more wealthy patients, or patients who have people paying good money to increase the quality of their stay... slightly. These private rooms offer Gorlay the chance he needs to exercise his all consuming desire. To ascend medial science, to make radial changes, save lives! Make impossible things probable!

The foundation of this work to improve mental health for all was preventative.... for men are generally more careful of the breed of their horses and dogs than of their children.

It does not, however, seem impossible that by an attention to breed, a certain degree of improvement, similar to that among animals, might take place among men. Whether intellect could be communicated may be a matter of doubt: but size, strength, beauty, complexion, and perhaps even longevity are in a degree transmissible... As the human race could not be improved in this way, without condemning all the bad specimens to celibacy, it is not probable, that an attention to breed should ever become general.

What nature does blindly, slowly and ruthlessly, man may do providently, quickly, and kindly. As it lies within his power, so it becomes his duty to work in that direction.

The mentally ill are the result of poor breeding and imperfections of their race that must be breed out of the populace. The insane must not be allowed to pass on their maladies. It wasn't a new idea, but it was catching fire all across America. We can't be left behind!

You feel the fervent trust in science, the rock solid belief that this is a mercy leading to a brighter future.

Beforehand, he reads up on the subject. More flashes of knowledge.

Although there is not a federal sterilization program, states were already passing eugenics laws. These statutes empowered medical professionals in asylums, hospitals and prisons to sterilize individuals as they saw fit.

In 1926 Gorlay institutes systematic compulsory sterilization of patients, off the books but with Weaver's consent and the full support of the staff.

Sterilization was often done without the patient's knowledge (performing the operation under the guise of another procedure). Mostly, this was done by vasectomy in men or tubal ligation in women (though Gorlay sometimes castrated patients to study the effects).

This is how it started. While he was performing surgery he decided it was his duty to perform other alterations. These dregs, less than human, idiots wouldn't be missed and wouldn't care half the time.

Your writing notes... the year is 1929.

Project 311/312 May 17th, 1929 Patient 1142: Male, aged 19, delusions of religious nature; also Patient 1139: Male Negro, aged 16, cretinism

Being fortunate enough to be able to oversee sterilization, I decided to take the opportunity to perform the transference of reproductive organs with those of patient 1139, who had also not yet been sterilized. Having restrained and anesthetized both subjects, I began the operation at 2.14 pm. Aside from some hemorrhaging on the part of 1139, the experiment was initially a success. I have decided to postpone sterilization of both subjects until the results of this experiment have become apparent.

Postscript, June 12th 1929. 1142 died this morning. The wound appears to have developed gangrene. 1139, to my surprise, appears to at least be in somewhat higher spirits, although having had him brought before me for inspection today, I note that the injury has also become infected. I expect the subject is not likely to live much longer than 1142. This is something of a disappointment. I shall have to try again.

Later...

Project 353 July 29th, 1929 Patient 1199: Female, aged 25, erratic behavior (post-natal)

My intention was to duplicate the famous experiment of Dr. Sarles. The subject, who is dolichocephalic, is subject to episodes of inappropriate behavior. Dr. Sarles discovered that certain incisions in the forebrain of a patient could, if carefully executed, remove negative emotional extremes in a subject. After restraining and anesthetizing the patient, I shaved an area of hair and proceeded to make a circular incision through which I extracted a small amount of tissue.

Postscript, September 12th 1929. 1199 has responded well to the treatment. Although somewhat listless, the subject is co-operative and responds well to all given treatment.

Your work flurries before you...

Project 401 October 12th, 1929 Patient 1213: Male, aged 32, fits and periods of loss of reason

Performed a posterior sympathectomy. During resection of subject’s ribs, I slipped and damaged the subject’s right lung. Bleeding was impossible to stem; subject died on the operating table. I am somewhat disappointed. I shall have to wait until a similar subject arrives.

Project 492/493 January 17th, 1930 Patient 1199: Female, aged 25, erratic behavior (post-natal); also Patient 1116: Female, aged 16, Mongolian idiocy

Following experiment 353, I decided to extend the Sarles technique to transplantation, re-opening skull and removing greater section of forebrain from 1199 and transplanting tissue to brain of 1116. Operation a success.

Postscript, February 23rd, 1930. 1199 is significantly more docile and more listless. Ability to make decisions altered. 1116 has begun to experience seizures; three to date on January 26th, February 1st and February 18th. No improvement in condition.

There was need for discretion. While the sterilizations could be done in the operating rooms but some of my more… delicate research and experimentation required private and accommodations with trusted personnel. The renovations of the East wing had been the key to this. Director Weaver was willing to give me whatever I needed. He oversaw the project himself, adding a sub-basement attached to the existing tunnel system. Cool rooms and the cold earth called to me. Almost seemed to beat like a heart.

Supposedly there were large cave systems further down, the tunnels had broken into them in a few places. Weaver said it could come in handy if he needed to store anything.

If asked, my personal operating room was set up like a morgue. The low temperatures of the earth on the stone walls help keep the cost of ice down.

I performed hundreds of experiments. While my failures were discouraging, they were hardly noticed by anyone of importance. It was all an easy thing to do in an institution that had come to exist, at least partly, for the purpose of consigning people to be forgotten about.

I was a celebrated therapeutic innovator. Published my papers, the community at large was doing much of the same at the time. The medicine age was at hand. The larger world would never fully appreciate our successes. That they came at a cost.

Some of my successes and failures remained in the labyrinth. I never questioned why the dead disappeared. All part of the process.

I discovered secrets of the barrier between mind and soul, how to breathe life into the dead to burn like a divine flame in their chests.

In 1930 we had a bit of a scare. One of my patients remembered. That is the trouble with these poor drugs, everyone deals with them slightly differently. He managed to convince other patients of what he saw.

A patient riot in the lower East Wing, apparently incited by what I had done and he didn’t understand. It’s bad, and by the time we had quelled the mad, the riot had claimed the lives of 17 patients and 5 staff. Weaver takes care of it, offers generous compensatory payments to the families of those who were lost and the relatives push things no further. He does good, he makes it go away.

I had continued my life’s work. I saw the hospital as a living thing, walls full of sinew and sensory organs. I fed the mouth of the earth. I was successful, I was celebrated.

Then it all went wrong. Weaver doesn’t do good this time. He does poorly he doesn’t keep his staff in line. That worm Werner doesn’t understand my work, he never will be a successful man in the field. Raw creation is mine. I can pluck the nerves and flesh into amazing states.

My supporters couldn’t stay the press of the ignorant. Low of breed and brain. Nothing left to do but to become a footnote in history. I wonder if I will find my way back to the hospital, to the lab, to the pulse of that ancient mechanical art.

Chimera, you feel a jerk around your neck, a snap and nothing at all. You are knocked awake.

Eos: Jack, she’s been spaced out for 5 minutes, not a matter of seconds. Your phone rings.

Jack: Jack flicks his eyes to the phone screen. This is a bad time; does he recognize the number?

Eos: It's Eos.

Jack: "Yo, what'd ya find?" Jack answers the phone and keeps an eye on Chimera.

Eos: “Hey Jack, we’ve already found something interesting! Check this out:”

“Jamestown, February 21, 1933 – James Sercombe, a 21-year-old patient with “Mongolian idiocy” (now normally known as Down syndrome) dies of a brain hemorrhage. His physician, Dr. Mathew Gorlay is out of town on a lecture tour, Dr. Thomas Werner, a recently appointed member of staff, performs the autopsy. He discovers that the unfortunate young man had been the subject of at least 14 surgical procedures over the last year, including three separate operations on the brain. The last of these, a second exploration into the forebrain, was the direct cause of death.”

“Dr. Werner testified that Mr. Weaver ordered him to cover it up on threat of dismissal, Werner took his findings to the state representative of the AMA Committee on Ethics, which orders an investigation. The investigators discover that Dr. Gorlay’s now-celebrated research comes at a cost: although he’s well-known for dozens of groundbreaking surgical techniques, Gorlay has covered up the deaths of nearly 300 patients over the last 12 years, and has caused permanent and needless damage to another 150 or more.”

“Many advocates for eugenics and proponents of the efficacy of psychosurgical techniques come to Gorlay’s defense. Doctors across the United States mount a letter-writing campaign on Gorlay’s behalf, stressing the major contributions Gorlay has made to the field of psychiatric medicine. In the end, however, no one can escape the fact that Gorlay is guilty of medical fraud, and it is fraud, not malpractice, for which he is indicted. During the investigation, it transpires that Weaver, who is aware of Gorlay’s coverup, has been embezzling hospital profits since 1926, for a total of $96,000.”

Jack: "Jeezus.”

Chimera: Chimera jolts awake, blinking back tears. She back up against the stone, huddled over, and quickly smears the blood off of it with one hand.

"Got it," she tells Jack. She won't look him in the eye. That in itself is normal actually, but her kicked-dog posture suggests an entirely different reason for the reticence. "Did I . . . did I miss anything?"

Jack: "Eos is on the phone. She found some information for us," Jack pauses for a moment, eyeing Chimera. He turns to the phone, "Could you note that information for us, Eos. I need a moment, here. I'll call you back in a second."

He hangs up before getting an answer, then mutters under his breath and texts: "not emergency" to Eos.

"Chimera ... what spell did you say you were going to cast, again?" He squats down, draping his arms over his knees and tilting his head, looking at her seriously.

Chimera: "Our instructors would call it a "Past-Life Regression"," She smooths over her leather jacket compulsively and climbs to her feet. Still no eye contact. "I just lived a piece of Gorlay's life like it was mine. Got some valuable information to share. But he hurt . . . a lot of people . . ."

Jack: Jack nods, looking up at Chimera but not getting up himself for a long minute.

Then he pops to his feet and begins stretching. Rolling his neck he says, "I've had a spell idea kicking around a little bit. Clear Thoughts can be very helpful, but it's hard to make it Last, you know? And it doesn't resolve things properly.”

"So it's only a stop-gap. But I've been thinking," Jack's voice takes on the undertones of the Accented High Speech he prefers, "A Burden Shared is a Burden Lessened."

Jack holds out his hand, "Will you let me help bear the weight of his crimes?"

Chimera: There is a flat refusal in Chimera's expression, a mix or pride and stubbornness, but then something shifts. She offers an open palm. "Yes. But I want to know how it works too; 'sharing the burden' is a two way street."

Jack: Jack clasps Chimera's hand in a firm and unyielding handshake. His spell roils his aura, pressing the supernal evidence of his thoughts against Chimera's, and slips a little bit of that thought into the cracks that form around an emotional trauma.

Then, gently and carefully, he blurs that trauma, pulling it across an invisible gap until it exists in two places at once, spread and stretched thin until an equal share exists in both auras (and in both minds). Then, Jack releases her hand, and steps away, carrying a portion of that strain with him.

Eos: Jack's phone receives a text in response from Eos: "Okay, call back when ready, Overwatch has something too."

"What did you find anyway?" She looks up over her laptop at Overwatch who meets her gaze looking over the lid of his matte black hard case.

Overwatch:  "Found the results of the trails a year later," he says, "North Dakota medical historical records, newspapers in Jamestown:"

“In November 1934 – Weaver receives a prison sentence of three years for fraud and embezzlement. Gorlay is struck off the register and sentenced to five years, although he commits suicide in prison after two weeks rather than live on in disgrace. Thirteen other staff members receive prison sentences of between one and three years.”

“Then it looks like the Jamestown Asylum teeters on shut down, and many its patients are sent elsewhere. Those staff members who survive with reputations intact (notably Thomas Werner, whom the press treats as something of a hero) attempt to find other employment in hospitals across the state through the lean depression years.”

“This is a bleak decade. Even after the scandal the hospital has a mortality rate of 1 in 10 and a census population of around 1,500.”

Eos: “Oh,” Eos breaks in. “And 50 or so of Dr. Gorlay’s subjects were never found. That’s fun. Probably stuffed into those sealed off closets or in the walls or floors somewhere.” Eos sounds almost morbidly giddy.

Azazel: “Or maybe you’ve seen too many scary movies.” Azazel interjects.

Eos: “No. I’ve been abducted by a monster that has way too much in common with Dr. Gorey. Same evil, slightly different face. God help him if he is a ghost. I will send him to the worst Death Dominion I can find. Toss him into the bottom of the underworld after I work him over myself.” Eos’s voice almost has a full growl of utter hatred in her voice. She isn’t blowing smoke.