#all this is to say that i refuse to look for jobs outside of wellington :)

[elesssar]

i also feel guilty and like i’m doing something wrong by not applying for jobs in other cities but. i dont want to move. i actually think i would rather die than go and live somewhere else without my friends at this stage of my life like. what am i supposed to do, move to auckland and live with strangers because i can get a job easier? yeah i have friends in auckland but like. i actually think id rather die

#which to be honest is growth for me #when i was younger i was sure i was going to be someone who could ruthlessly uproot herself #but that is simply not the case #i dont like change too much i like staying in one place #and also i have really good friends here #and going to canada that one time broke my brain so hard i dont want to be isolated like that again #recently ive been wondering if ive gone too hard the other way #im going to be alone like proper alone eventually so i should stop #being sad when my flatmates are in their bedroom talking about stuff im not involved in #i like being literally by myself but not metaphorically yknow #all this is to say that i refuse to look for jobs outside of wellington :) #because the alienation isnt worth it #and im resentful of and panicked by the idea of. well. that #IM MISERABLE THIS EVENING #beth vs life #no shade to my auckland friends tho i love them love spending time with them #and anyway. i wonder if the only reason i enjoy being alone so much #is because it was just me and mum growing up so like. #i dont know any other way #i had to do a lot of work to be socialised to live with other people when i moved down here lol

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/79420381

Chapter 67

Nick had no clue how he made it back into the house. His feet were moving all by themselves, as if he could escape his lonely fate like that. Then he fell into his bed and let it all go. Tears shedding and sobbing loudly, he spent the next hours like that, hoping he would fall asleep eventually, just like it had happened to him the last days. But the merciful blackout didn't come this time. He tossed and turned in his bed, throwing away the pillows and wrapping himself into his blanket in multiple different poses. Nothing felt comfortable and no one came to comfort him. In time, the tears ran out and his dry sobs became weaker and less frequent. He began to feel the empty room around him more intensely and the silence hurt in his ears.

Sitting on his bed, he began to think again, even if only a little bit and clutching at every straw he could find. Was Virgil really dead? He couldn't imagine Virgil being dead. Even less than Morrie being dead, but he had seen him himself. Virgil instead...His memories denied him a clear vision. Did he see Virgil or not? He had such a bad feeling in his stomach, that could convince him he had seen him. But it rather felt as if there was more to it. Nick dwelled in his thoughts, massaging his stomach. Time was patient, but his memories didn't come back. Except... The hotel. It had something to do with what happened there. Nick furrowed his brows. Why had he been in the hotel? Without Arthur? This didn't feel good...

Nick made his way to the door, but palpating the handle, he hesitated. Going outside and meeting the others didn't feel right either. He didn't want to see anyone, he didn't want to have to explain. He had no explanations, after all. He had blood on his suit. The damn jacket still lied on the floor. Well, it could stay there now, no reason to hide it anymore. The damage was done. Nick very silently brought down the handle and crossed through his own home as if he was hiding in the streets. It even felt natural. He had done that so often that it was a routine now. Thanking himself for having a back door, he went out into his backyard and continued his meek stroll from there. Walking in a slow and gloomy pace, he gave a few greetings and waved here and there, and the Bobbies let him pass. Finally at the bottom of the long stairway, his stomach told him he was at the right place. He slowly   climbed up, his feet suddenly refusing to work. Every step was straining, and he took deep breaths because he felt the stress could choke him. His beloved manager, slaughtered by a monster, just lying there forgotten...the image made him more and more afraid.

What a disappointment however, when he arrived at the top of the stairs, and only his clean, shiny gold-self faced him. Nick's gaze ran along the metal features, the limbs, the pedestal, it was all clean. He walked around it, with no different results. There wasn't even barrier tape anywhere. Nick stopped his desperate search and sadly looked up to the statues' motionless head. Even if Virgil had been here, he wouldn't know. Either the Bobbies had done the same good job they had done with Morrie or he had been mistaken and he'd never find out where Virgil really was. Still, he stayed there. He had no other place to mourn. A few tears escaped him, but he was too clammed to cry out loud in this public place. He turned his head away when he noticed that someone came up the stairs. He hoped they would just pass by, since he wanted to stay for a while longer. But the person stopped and seemed to stare at him without saying a word. Great, Nick thought. Now he'd have to play the happy Lightbearer and give autographs and shit, but he rather hid his sad wet face and prayed the stranger would get bored and leave.

“So it really happened here...”, a female voice said quietly. Nick turned around and stared at Birdie Callagher with wide eyes. She, however, eyed the statue as helplessly as Nick had done it before. “I can't believe he's gone.” She was wearing a white hat with a wide brim that now looking up, revealed her face. Her eyes were red and her features distorted with grief. She wasn't a better sight than Nick and her mourning gave Nick time to realize that Virgil had been her manager too. He unsurely eyed her. Even though she had been Virgil's new star for a while now, he had no idea how close they actually had been or if she was only crying over a talented business partner. “Yeah, he...must've been very stressed out...”, he stumbled and shrugged. “Huh?” Birdie looked at him again. Nick winced. “Well...to go on holiday so suddenly...” Birdie gave him a questioning look. “You believe that?”, she blurted out. “You believe that holiday-crap?” Nick jumped a little. “No, he's dead!”, she went on. “Someone murdered him and we'll never know why and he'll never come back...” A tear ran down her cheek. She pulled at the brim of her hat, hiding her emotional outburst from Nick. “I know...”, Nick said sadly and they fell quiet again. “Sorry...I didn't mean to rant...”, Birdie whispered after a while. “It's okay”, Nick replied.

It was so strange, Nick thought. Two stranded stars, left without their protector. They had been close to the same man and they still didn't know each other at all. But her mourning for Virgil made him feel sympathetic to her. “That's a weird place to grieve”, he said, pointing at his golden self. “Yep”, she answered, “but it's all we have.” “Do you think he'd mind...if we commemorate him in a more comfortable place?” She gave him another look. “I'm just talking about a drink or two...in remembrance of the best manager in the world...” She relaxed again. “Is that an invitation?”, she asked more friendly. “Yes. Sorry for my manners. I'm just not myself without him...” He sighed and looked back at the statue. “I think I know what you mean.” She followed his gaze. After honouring Virgil for another while, Nick made a few steps towards the entrance and turned back to Birdie. She went along. They entered the hotel together, walking in silence, deciding mutually that the bar was the best place to honour their manager further.

They picked their table and Birdie said she fancied a Cherry on the rocks. Nick took the same. Then Birdie shortly looked over her shoulder. “They're still staring at us...” “They probably wonder what two icons like us are up to.” Nick didn't turn around. He had expected the guests to stare anyway. “They wonder who of us killed him.” Nick winced. “I don't think they're going that far.” “I think they do...they already believe you have an evil nature, Lightbearer.” Nick looked at her. In her face he could read rather curiosity and sympathy than disgust. “I may have”, he said mysteriously. “But Virgil was worse.” She chuckled like she could understand the joke very well. “He was the one I wouldn't mess with...”, Nick went on. Then he shook his head. “I miss him.” Birdie's expression saddened. “Me too...” When their drinks were served, Nick raised his glass. “To Virgil?” She did the same. “To the best manager in the world?” “To a good friend”, Nick added. Birdie nodded. “Yes.”

Their glasses clinked quietly. A lone piano was playing in the background and there weren't many people in the bar yet. It was as quiet as it needed to be to take pause and cope with what had happened to both of them. The cold liquid felt good on Nick's tongue. He could continue like this, he thought. He would be fine with it. This day was ruined anyway. “That feels good”, Birdie gasped, putting her empty glass down. Nick, who silently wiped the still cold glass with his fingers, nodded. “Yeah. How about another one?” She curled a strand of hair around her finger before she answered. “Yeah, I guess...” Nick eyed her. “You don't have to. Don't let Old Nick delude you.” Birdie gave him a faint smile. “It's not that I didn't drink before...but Virgil...he didn't like me drinking.” Nick was puzzled. “Really I mean...not at all?” She smiled more playfully. “It's rather strange, right, considering your reputation in this respect?” “Well...I...it's not that he made me drink...”, Nick replied, thinking about their long history with Joy and Party Favours. “He always avoided the question when I asked...I guess it's not my business anyway...But he always told me to be careful. With the drugs, with the drinks...it's easy to better up your mood in Wellington Wells but he wanted me to keep a clear head.” Nick felt a sting in his chest. Virgil must've seen what had become of his first star and tried to make it better. He didn't blame Virgil, but he couldn't help feeling betrayed. Gloomily, he eyed his empty glass. He decided would have more drinks since he was doomed anyway.

He called the waiter to order another one and to his surprise Birdie joined him. To his look, she said: “It's not that he could see me now...” Nick had to smile. “Already rebellious.” “Why not?”, she said louder. “I've been such a good girl all the time. And now I wish I would've focused less on my work...” Nick mused. How much spare time had he spent with Virgil? How many casual situations did they share apart from their work? The manager had been a workaholic, Nick had been a chaotic mess and sometimes they had crossed paths. And still, they had felt very close. He wondered how close his connection to Birdie had been. “I know what you mean”, he answered. They silently applied themselves to their second drinks. “It's strange...I'm free now...but also lost...”, Nick blustered out. “He always cared for me, all the little things he did apart from his regular tasks, he had always been there, and now...I can do whatever I want...and that feels awful.” Birdie nodded. “It was so different when I had him. He changed my life, my career. I don't know how he did all that so fast. Only a few months ago, I was a nobody. A singer in some clubs, but never a popular act, not to mention a star.” Nick thought about his first meeting with Virgil and a smile flashed over his face.

“How did you meet?”, he asked her. “Oh, he one day appeared after a gig, in a little club in St. Georges...he said he liked my voice and that I could me more than just a minor act, if I made a few changes. I was completely flabbergasted when he said his name was Virgil Dainty.” “I can imagine”, Nick smiled widely. “He was quite a phenomenon.” “You bet...”, she lit up too. “The manager extraordinaire in person, in this shabby club...I felt so underdressed all of a sudden in my cheap rags.” Nick chuckled.  “I wonder what I've been wearing at our first meeting...I guess I had that second hand suit that was a trifle too large. But it was bright red and I was very proud of it.” She eyed him. “You kept your colour choice.” “Yeah...I'm wearing a lot of colours but this is still kind of iconic. Virgil liked it so I guess it wasn't a bad choice.” Birdie smiled and took another nip of her drink. “He changed me...a lot”, she admitted, dwelling in memories. “I found some of it ridiculous but of course I never questioned him. And it turned out he was right in every department.” Her glance wandered from his suit to his hair. “How did you meet?”, she returned the question. “Oh, that's way back...but the story is quite similar to yours. Me and my band...we had already conquered a few holms but no one would have called us popular either. He approached me after a gig, just like he did it with you. He instead already had a reputation as an outstanding manager. I bet his old stars had been pissed about losing him.” “He left his old band for you? Speaking of not popular.” “Oh, no, I don't know why he left them. He told me he was searching for new talents and that he had been watching us and others for a while. I was so overwhelmed that he came to us.” “He had a nose for talents.” “Amen to that. I was 16 at that time. I bet I was awful.” She chuckled. “Noo, don't say that! I bet you were cute!” Nick looked at her, smiling. “You think so?” “Sure.” “I could've been an ugly child.” “No, I don't believe that. Unless you had plastic surgery, then maybe...” “No, Virgil didn't go that far.” They laughed and Nick was thankful for this moment.

“To be fair, he didn't really make me feel pretty”, Birdie said. “Everything I had to change, it was crazy...” “Oh, come on, I don't believe a thing. I bet he had it easy with you.” “I should say that...it would make a better story.” She giggled. “Truth be told, he was very picky.”, Nick pointed out. “Oh, yeah...he knew exactly what he wanted and I better followed...” She sighed nostalgically. “I have to admit, sometimes I could've strangled him.” “I guess he wanted to do everything right.” She nodded. “He wanted just the best for us.” “I think he learned a lot from how he handled me. He was always ambitious but I didn't get a full makeover until I've been a star for a few years. I'm sure he wanted to do everything right with you.” Birdie mused, looking down her empty glass. “Do you feel like he left you?”, she asked quietly. “I thought he would. But then he stayed with me as if nothing happened. I guess he was waiting for what I would do...You know...if I mess it up or get my shit together again. But he was as lovely as always.” “Did he really live with you?” A sad smile flashed over Nick's face. “He had his own abode in my house...an office and everything. But he also went out a lot. I wonder how he managed to be everywhere at once.” “I didn't notice he still had you. I knew it of course, but he made it look like I'm the only star...” She looked up to the ceiling, glass still in hand.

“Next round?” Nick clinked his glass against hers. She smiled and nodded again. “Was Virgil ever drunk?” Nick thought hard. “I can't remember. I can't remember getting drunk with him. I can only remember getting drunk and him scolding me about fucking up a show. Sorry.” She didn't mind the cuss and laughed instead. “I wish he would've introduced us to each other. I would've loved to sit with him and you together at a table, hatching a scheme...” “Me too...We could've made him drunk.” She liked the idea. “Oh yeah, we would've peer pressured him into getting wasted.” “And there we have the reason why he never had a drink with us.” “Smart man...” “Yeah...”, Nick said quieter “I never thought that could happen to him...he was so tough.” Birdie's face fell again. They forced smiles when the waiter brought their next round and they quickly faded afterwards. “Perhaps he knew something...”, Birdie muttered. “I anyone could have known something, it was him. Sadly, he didn't tell me a word...” “He was secretive sometimes.” “Yeah...perhaps the image feels better than thinking he fell just like the others...But it doesn't comfort me, really.”

Birdie gulped down more Cherry. “Is it a crazy fan?,” She asked lifting an eyebrow. Nick shrugged. “Not a hunch. I don't know what fan would do this. If anything, they hate me to the core.” He wiped his forehead. “I have to be more careful...my band...I have to keep them save...I can't forgive myself if they...” He broke off and hid his face in his hands. Birdie leaned a bit closer. “You just need more bodyguards...I'm sure the Constables will queue up to care for you.” Nick rubbed his eyes. “I need to pay them...I have to get a new manager...I don't know what a mess I left in the office..” “You're Nick Lightbearer! You'll get a manager! Just take one who can walk and chew gum and you'll be fine.” He smiled a little. “I hope so...Perhaps Virgil has a brother.” She smiled. “Hand me his number if you find him.” Nick noticed something. “How will you get along?” She took a deep breath. “I'll be fine I guess...Honestly, I miss the manager less than I miss the man.” He lifted his eyebrows. “So, you...and him...” She smiled sadly. “He was...restrained...but charming. I don't know if he was serious...and now I'll never find out...” “He wouldn't have played with you”, Nick said quickly. Birdie threw back the hair strand she had been playing with. “He was a true gentleman.” “Yeah...also I can't complain...He treated me right...” He emptied his third drink for Virgil. “I'm glad I met him...even though I wish we would've had more time.” She drank slower, letting her mind wander. Nick gave Birdie a sympathetic look. He felt the same with Morrie...and Arthur. “If Joy could turn back time, it would make really happy.” She returned his gaze. “True.”

They dwelled in consent for a while until Nick broke the silence again. “Want another round?” Birdie looked back at her glass as if she had forgotten about it. Then she let out a breath. “I shouldn't. I never had more than one of these...” “I wouldn't give you away...”, Nick said innocently. A smile flashed over her face. “Thank you, but...I'm also tired. This day is wearing me out.” Nick nodded. “Sure...So, a coffee maybe?” “I prefer a good rest over filling myself up with caffeine...”, she replied. “Alright..Do you have a suite? Would you mind if I escort you there?” Another look from her. Nick gave her his most innocent expression. “It's on the second floor”, she finally answered, left the table and turned back to him. He came along and they made their way to the elevator. Shortly, Nick was on the edge of tears again, because the whole interior made him think of Arthur, how he had marvelled at all this. But he gulped the tears down and held his breath until the fit was gone. He smiled briefly at Birdie to assure her that he was fine, and a second later realized how ridiculous it was.

They silently walked over to her room and she turned around to face him at the doorstep. “Thank you”, she whispered. “For the drink...and everything else...” “No need to thank me...”, he ensured her. “Will you be alright?” She nodded faintly. “I think so...And you?” He shrugged. “I guess I have to keep a clear head...to pick up the shreds...” Birdie came a step closer. “Take care of yourself, Nick”, she urged him gently. “You're not like people say...you're sweet.” With that, she raised herself on tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. Nick still felt how it warmed his heart when she closed the door behind her.

#we happy few #Wehappyfew #nicklightbearer #nick lightbearer #whf nick #whfnick #whfnicklightbearer #wehappyfewoc #whfvirgildainty #whfarthurhastings #whf arthur #whfvirgil

[vrheadsets]

VR vs. MR vs. Uncle Jack

Hello again and welcome back to VR vs. the time once a week where a keyboard is thrust into my hands and I jab away at it until I make some kind of point. Today is actually the last VR vs. for a couple of weeks as I am off on holiday to relax. So if there is a VR vs. next week it certainly won’t be written by me.  One of the things I wanted to do for a while is get back to talking about games and away from the super serious discussions about the industry for a bit. We went through a bit of a period of talking about very serious industry things and I think we’re due an excited tête-à-tête about a game I’d like to see make the jump into the world of immersive technology. Long time readers of VRFocus will of course remember we used to do that on a regular basis courtesy of our Make It A (Virtual) Reality feature, something I actually used to write moderately frequently before taking over VR vs. Unfortunately in February last year someone made the decision to take Make It behind the VRFocus barn and proverbially Old Yeller it with an editorial shotgun. Which was a shame, because damnit I liked Make It A (Virtual) Reality. I got to talk excitedly about TRON, reimagined classic video games and board games, and discussed children’s television and Bruce frickin’ Campbell.

So today I want to get back to that, and since this is my column I hereby resurrect Make It so I can talk about a game that whilst I have not played (and am not going to until it is finally released) that I love to watch others play and think would make a highly intersting mixed reality (MR) – not VR – experience. So I guess we’ve got a VR vs. Make It A (Virtual & Augmented) Reality? Oh well.

As an aside before we begin I am aware that it is #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek (in the UK at least) and I will throughout this be talking about a game where people are en masse using medication to escape their troubles. There is no deliberate timing for this, it is nothing to do with the campaign in any way. Nor am I directly equating We Happy Few with the topic. Mental Health is a serious concern, many people do struggle getting through life from day to day in oh so many ways. Depression is a proper son-of-a-bitch, as this writer oh so readily knows. We will actually be having a three-part mini-series on emotion and how VR can help tackle such things beginning tomorrow I believe so keep an eye out for that. I can however see why someone might, might think the timing is deliberate or I am being critical in some way. I’m not. This has nothing to do with it – and I really do want to talk about this game today.

In any case… Wakey Wakey, everyone! It’s another fabulous day on VRFocus. The sky is gray outside although I am sure that we will soon be spotting streaks of lovely sunshine poking their way through the clouds. Everyone at VRFocus is working busily away on news and features and doing absolutely everything that they can to bring you information on virtual reality (VR) – the brand new technology that can bring you joy. You can never have enough Joy can you? Happiness is a choice!

We Happy Few first poked its head out of independant studio Compulsion Games in 2015 although I didn’t hear much about it until it featured in during XBox’s E3 presser in 2016. Then, ohhh, then it got my attention. We Happy Few is set predominently in Wellington Wells, a series of islands in the UK surrounded by a river – quite possibly near Blenheim in Oxfordshire based on that there is a Blenheim Bridge and the lead character making references to “Mr. Churchill” whilst talking to himself in the area. Historical Explanation: Blenheim Palace was the birthplace and ancestral home of Britain’s great wartime leader Sir Winston Churchill. After he died he was buried so that you can see Blenheim Palace from where he rests. So it’s a pretty good theory.

Speaking of World War Two, We Happy Few is set in dystopian future where following World War Two it seems the populous has decided the only way to get through and make sure such a tragedy never happens again is to medicate their way through it. Utilising an artificial high known as Joy, readily available in pill form on every street corner phone booth – even in multiple ‘flavours’ – they steadfastly ignrore all the terrible things going on around them. The lack of food, the utter misery of lives spent in drudgery. Choosing instead to live in delusion. “When life annoys, pop a Joy.”

Everybody must feel the same happiness. Everyone must go around with a big smile on their face – so much so that everyone has one painted on their face. (Another sign of the need for everyone to be the same.) It’s like a bit like the film Equilibrium set in a twisted version of the 1960’s. Instead of the mysterious pseudo-religious character of Father and his conformist broadcasts there is Uncle Jack a happy-go-lucky slightly enigmatic figure ripped straight out of 1950’s early television broadcasts. A continuity announcer in more ways than one, he is there to reinforce the message of those above and his cheery attitude and stories keep everyone going through troubling times. The people’s dependancy is such that he has reached a near religious status for some. The more you look the more you wonder if his words aren’t slightly tinged with a touch of menace. Shades of the BioShock series permeate the story, surroundings and gameplay. The Equilibrium comparison also amplifies even more as the lead character Arthur Hastings’ job is to ‘redact’ materials that may enduce an unsatisfactory emotional response. Do your job. Smile. Join in. Be the same. Play Simon Says and learn to do as we say. Be happy. I said BE HAPPY.

Swinging these sixties are are not.

For those who don’t take their Joy their behavior soon has them found out, those who are not on their Joy and are not conforming are called Downers. The presence of Downers are a threat to the Joy of the conformists. There are anti-Downer security devices and traps placed in the more oppulant residences in order to protect them. Traditional looking British ‘Bobbies’ roam the streets and are quick to judge and secret enforcers work behind the scenes. If discovered it becomes an essential free for all on the Downer, they are caught and sent packing to Wellington Wells where other Downers are – that’s if they don’t die of course. Death is everywhere. But the shock of death can be overcome and ignored of course. There’s a pill in your pocket to put a song in your heart.

For Arthur, a reminder of his lost brother sets off his story as he refuses to take his Joy as the memories set in. The scene shifts and everything begins to look decidedly wrong. He is eventually discovered when the work party he is encouraged to attend includes a brightly painted piniata and after whacking it he looks again to see what they all see as a piniata is actually a dead rat.

However this visual transformation between the real world, the ‘ideal’ world of Joy, and also the visualisation when crashing off of Joy is what would make the most interesting augmented or mixed reality experience. Imagine you interacting with the real world around you and find that it is changing? What if you saw everyone with a painted smile on their face? It’s not that far away from what you’ve got on the likes of Snapchat right now, is it? We’ve had VR experiences where the world around you shifts based on your emotional responses. Remember Nevermind?

We Happy Few does I think have the potental to produce an experience in a similar vein. Villagers judge you based on your movement and attitude both of which have the potential to be tracked. Imagine travelling through a location which can change from sunshine and rainbows, to misery, menace and monotone hues. About not just playing a game with a controller but playing the game. Moving through in a certain way, having to worry about the sheer vibe you’re putting off. You’re desperately trying to play a character in a world where you haven’t seen the script. In many ways it’d be a stealth game but a stealth game in plain sight.

A conform-em-up.

We Happy Few is still very much in progress, the team put out a big update not that long ago adding another island. If you would like to see the game played I suggest definately you watch ChristopherOdd’s let’s play where he’s covered both the 2016 version and the recent Maidenholm update. I also recommend following his playthroughs of XCOM. (Locksley forever!) We Happy Few is also set to get a film at some point so we’ll see more of Uncle Jack yet.

But wouldn’t you all like to welcome Wellington Wells into your home, your actual home? Of course you would.

You don’t want to be a Downer do you?

from VRFocus http://ift.tt/2pZCGHp

#VRFocus #vr #virtual reality #canada

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/78608290

Chapter 65

Virgil felt he was close to finding the truth. If he had time now, he would scold himself for being so goddamn blind. As if the answer hadn't been obvious the whole time. He couldn't blame it on Nick. His defiant rockstar was a sneaky bastard for sure, but he had made no attempt to hide this at all. The poor thing had no idea what he was doing.

After he had asked for a portion of Blackberry Joy from Nick, Virgil had gone to the person responsible for this substance. Fortunately enough, she had paid them a visit anyway. She was about to leave when he stopped her gently. “Hello Sally, I haven't seen you for a while.” “Hi Virgil”, she cracked him a smile. “Yeah, I'm sorry. It's funny how time flies by when you have a good time.” Virgil nodded. “Can I ask you a question before you leave? I'm sure it won't take long.” “Oh, sure...” Sally turned away from the entrance door and looked up to the tall manager. “You seem to have found another way to sell your Blackberry Joy. Nick's stash is full of it.” Sally furrowed her brows. “Another way?” She came closer and examined what Virgil held out to her in his hand.

The innocent looking black pills didn't disappoint with their fruity smell. Sally sniffed, then she took a pill between to fingers and turned it around. “This is...peculiar...” She looked back at Virgil. “Where did you say, did Nick get it?” Virgil gave a slight shrug. “He didn't tell me in detail. He said it helps him to get clean...If I recall it right, he said it's part of his therapy.” Sally's nose twitched. Her whole expression was tense. “It's not Blackberry Joy...at least not the sort I'm selling...” She looked up, talking more to herself now. “I wonder who could create such a pill...could it be...no...he couldn't...?”

“I'm sorry to hear that there's a copycat,” Virgil's deep voice gently shoved itself back into Sally's mind. “Well...the rivals never sleep,” Sally waved him off, smiling again as if it was no big deal. For a girl like her it maybe wasn't. “Would you mind if I kept one of those? I'd like to extract the formula.” “Of course, keep it. I can't do much with it, except for asking around.” “Right...perhaps you're lucky with the dealers, if they like you.” Virgil looked confident. “I know the dealers quite well, you know, someone had to do Nick the favour when he was high.” He put the rest of the pills back into his pocket. “I'll send you a message with the blower when I find out who your copycat is.” “Thank you. And when there's something odd about this I'll tell you.” They said goodbye and Virgil was left to feel like the dumbest blockhead in town.

He hurried to get to the dealer in Hamlyn Village and was very tense when the shady man sniffed at the pill he offered. Then the man frowned. “What?”, Virgil impatiently blurted out. “It's well made, that's for certain. Whoever makes this, he knows what he's doing.” “What is it doing?” “I haven't the slightest. I haven't seen this before. Sorry, man. I don't think it's even on the market.” Virgil pondered about it. This didn't sound good. “Don't you think it could be from any of the other holms?” The dealer eyed the pill, doubting. “How long did you say, does he take it now?” “A few weeks?”, Virgil answered. “Sadly I wasn't around when he started, but it must've been only a month ago.” The dealer shook his head. “Too long, man. If it was a new trend, say, from last week, it'd be possible I didn't hear of it yet. But you know I keep in contact whenever I can.” He referred to the other dealers. It was harder to get new supplies from the other holms since they kept shutting the bridges down. “I see”, Virgil said. “Thank you anyway. You can keep a sample if you like.” “You're welcome”, the man said and closed his hand around the pill. “If you happen to hear more about it”, Virgil added with a meaningful look. “Leave me a note.” “With pleasure”, the dealer said. “Is there anything else I can assist you with?” Virgil knew what that meant. It was harder to please the dealer now since his most generous customer didn't make use of his services anymore, but the other lads liked the softer stimulants, so he chose a few of them.

After meeting the dealer in St.-Georges-Holm, he was certain that this curious sort of Joy wasn't sold anywhere. With his bags full of drugs, he wondered about where to go now. He considered waiting for Sally's analysis to be a waste of precious time. Also, his sense told him he had forgotten something else. Something he had forgotten about before until had Nick brought back up... He needed a while to get it. The underground flat that Nick had set his hopes in.

Virgil was surprised to find it not as messy as he had expected it to be. So, someone had been using it at least. Nick would most likely not clean up, therapy or not, so maybe his playmate was a neat person. He wasn't sure if it was actually Arthur. There could be another reason for this unexpected hygiene, because now finding clues would be not as easy as he had hoped. The bed was unmade, well, the clues he'd find in there were not of his interest. Without any special scheme, he simply opened all the drawers and doors he could find and searched for anything useful. He hoped for a bill of the mysterious merchant or a hint to what therapy Nick was actually having. Sadly, it could be anywhere, because his protégé had no interest in organizing things. Not even his songs.

Eventually, he was happy to come upon a pile of sheets in a drawer. They looked different to the quickly scribbled notes Nick usually created, and so they were very promising. Virgil soon figured they were a sort of diary he had kept for a while and possibly abandoned. That would be just like him. Virgil decided to read them from the start, if he could figure out the chronological order. Sitting rather at the bar instead of the bed, he examined the notes closely. Nick's handwriting was almost neat. He had been writing slowly and considering his words. Virgil had no problem to figure out he kept mentioning a certain “James” apart from an “Arthur”. And that “James” didn't seem to be a playmate.

Then a black envelope came to light between all the sheets and Virgil began to see the bigger picture. His heart made a jump when he read an address, written in elegant but forceful letters. Sighing out a deep breath, he leaned back, looking at his successful investigation. 'You're getting old', he told himself. 'You're slower than you used to be.' 'Or rather...', he thought of a certain songbird '...distracted.' Well, no time to complain, he had to go and confront his rockstar with what he was doing.

Back home, he found out that Nick was absent and the band didn't know where he went. Arthur was nowhere to be found, so they assumed he went with him. Checking his blower, he indeed had a message from Sally. She said the mixture was very complex, so she couldn't give a very detailed analysis yet, but the words she used to describe the supposed effect were alarming. Virgil's heart now raced. He looked back at the address and ran out, hoping that he had guessed right.

“We've come to the end of our time! Stop taking Joy! Stop taking Joy!”, were the last words he said in public, before they locked him away. He didn't care about escaping, he only cared about yelling at the top of his lungs, letting out what he had been suppressing for so many years, every oh so wonderful day in Wellington Wells. He smashed the equipment, every little part he could get his hands on. It was over. It was all over. But for whom, really? The security personnel ran in and caught him in the act. There was no hope fighting back, but he still did. He couldn't stop himself anyway. Being helpless came with the advantage that he could do whatever he wanted and he had nothing to lose. He really hoped to  wake people up. He shouted the truth at the staff that watched him being brought away. They only stared with wide eyes behind their false white faces. Dead bright smiles and no thoughts. A few of them took another Joy, others simply left. No one outside had stopped taking Joy that day, no one outside had seen what could've been his last broadcast. Time didn't end, it went on.

What followed was a rather unhappy procedure. In an attempt to heal the poor suffering patient, he had been granted the pleasure of seeing the curious Haworth Labs from inside. They sure would've been astonishing to visit if anyone would've cared enough to give him a tour. Instead, everything he was allowed to see was a tiny room with bright white walls that were painful to look at even in a healthy state, and a glass wall in which he could see the scientist watch him and making notes, making faces or simply not caring at all. Sometimes he saw his own reflection. Sometimes the board was close enough to see, and under the messy scribble that formed the name JACK WORTHING he could read his own stats. No one did mind, no one asked about what it did to him. He was told to forget his surroundings instead. Happiness was still a choice. And of course, every day at the defined time, they watched Uncle Jack's shows. Every Wellie watched them, after all. They had enough recordings. Jack could see them gather around the telly in their breaks, letting their not-yet patient tell Downer-jokes and then going on with their everyday life as if nothing happened.

He didn't watch them for so long, he was sure, at least not in that state. What quickly came after that, were multiple phases of treatment that slowly wore down his track of time and his sanity. He would forget about night and day, forget if they even turned the lights out once. Since he had refused to take any pills himself, they soon badgered him with injections, or filled his little chamber with gas. Or they gave him an injection first and then forced a pill down his throat. Now, they could do everything they wanted. Everything but getting their job done, apparently. What they had called Joy had either been the cause of a nightmare, acute pain or hysterical laughter. Sickness mostly came afterwards. He forgot his surroundings, yes. The rather endurable moments where when one substance had left his body and the other wasn't on the way yet. Then he lied in his bed, motionless, eyes closed and his mind as good as empty. He remembered the laughter of a child sometimes, or he imagined holding a doll in his hands. She loved them. She. Who? Most of the time he didn't know who he was.

His mind became a momentary thing. He lived without consciousness for hours and then suddenly found himself wake up to a cheery song. Those were his favourite times, because the music felt magical to him. It could bring back memories that seemed so out of place in his little world that he wondered if they were really his. Was that smiling, charismatic man really himself? And who were those people cheering and applauding for him? So many people in one room, ridiculous. And such a large room too. It happened less often that he remembered that indeed Uncle Jack was him. But every time he recalled that band. They looked so funny with their long hair and colored suits, since his room was only white, and all scientists had very short hair. He himself too, if he saw his own reflection right. That's what they looked like, the people who made the funny music. He was happy he could see them play in his mind. Nick Lightbearer was a happy man. Or a boy, rather. Was he really that young? Yes, these memories made his tortured mind wander and dream of better days. The scientists didn't listen to them often enough. He could've perished happily.

Instead, one of them finally had a good idea for once. That or they simply ran out of useless substances to test. By now, Jack had been a good boy and they could feed him pills. So they fed him some more. And some time, one of them was actually helpful. Jack didn't notice it at first. It was rather the doctors who were pleased with the result and they wrote so on the board and continued the treatment, cheering about their success. Jack however, calmed down, for the first time in his life. So much that he even noticed he had been stressed out before. His pain faded until he didn't even feel an itch anymore. The fear left him, causing his pulse to go slower and his sleep to be deeper. He could dream. And most important, he could remember. He could mourn. And cry. As long as he was calm, they didn't mind. He found out what he had done wrong at the beginning and he figured there was nothing that kept him from doing it from now on. They hadn't given him happiness, but patience.

Soon, he had to hold back his laughter when he saw the scientist watch him, responding excitedly to his efforts. Those fools! When they forgot to pull the board away again, he examined the development of his own stats. He read their minds they carelessly presented him. It was all there. What they wanted him to do, what they didn't want and what surprised them in a positive way. Did they even recall they were dealing with an actor?

While healing, Jack thought about what he would do in the outside world. He felt reborn, and simply continuing with what he had done before seemed to be ridiculous. He couldn't escape it entirely, sadly enough, but he would make sure to have his own sort of fun. With his mind rapidly reassembling itself, he soon saw the bigger picture. A town full of liars. A dying town, even. He could watch it die, or fasten the progress a little. The latter sounded quite pleasing.

He wondered what had happened to the funny band so far. They had been part of the lie, but they had also been a new generation growing up in all this chaos. They had been innocent children at the beginning, just like his poor Margaret. Could he blame them for trying to feel better? They even tried to make everything better. He had found that spirit in the Make Believes. He couldn't help his poor Margaret but perhaps he'd find a soul that deserved to be saved. One image especially didn't leave his mind anymore. It was Nick Lightbearer, who had always looked sad and worn out when he thought no one saw him. Jack assumed that the happy times for him were over too, that he knew better now, and Jack felt sorry for him. He felt the wish to tell him what his voice alone had done for him, every time it had woken him up from his fugue state. It had given him the strength to keep up. Perhaps Jack could do something for him. It'll depend on what he deserved. All the time until his discharge, he had been looking forward to meet Nick and when he finally met him, he didn't regret a second he had spent with him yet. What a good soul. And eccentric one, too. He matched him more than he had first thought. Both being famous icons of Wellington Wells, they would be both adored and feared while playing their very own game. Wellies loved to play after all. He only needed to get some annoying people out of the way. Liars, grudgers, critics, false friends...That poor boy's life was crowded with them. How could he breathe?

When Jack realized he had been gifted with another form of insanity, he found that rather hilarious. Being still a good patient, he had access to a big stash of what they called Blackberry Joy. Verloc, that bungler, fancied himself to be the new Sally Boyle. His Joy indeed was more interesting. And while the Uncle Jack Show went into a new season, another human being was given the gift of Blackberry wisdom. Of course he didn't torture little Nicky. Children needed to be treated with love. And later, he was proven right. The boy flowered just as well. It was interesting how his mind reacted to the drug. The Joy still depended on personal preferences, so it seemed. He was surprised by the fondness he received from Nick and the thanked his fate for granting him such a precious gift. Still, only one pill per hour wasn't enough when he wanted to take the boy with him. But as ever, Jack was patient. It was already a great pleasure to have Nick's company at his night strolls, even if he was in a bit of a foggy state. He proved himself to be a quick learner. It was fascinating how precisely the musician could cut through dead flesh. In contrast to Jack, he didn't fly into a frenzy with the cleaver and he had really talented hands. Yet it was Jack who prepared the bodies, but he introduced the trade to Nick, bit by bit.

He was looking forward to another night with him. Nicky was already prepared, lying on the couch and being in a sort of giggly phase. It would fade away, but for now he was an adorable sight. He grabbed Jack's hand and the selfmade therapist looked at him lovingly. Their togetherness was disturbed when suddenly the doorbell rang. Jack looked up and squinted his eyes. “Did you give anyone else my address, Nicky?”, he asked quietly. “No”, the boy simply said, stroking the other man's hand. Jack watched the door. It could be just a Wellie on too much Joy who mistook this house for one of his friends'. The question was answered when the door burst open.

“Nick?”, Virgil's voice echoed through the corridor. “Nick, are you there?” The manager hurried into the first room accessible and came upon his rockstar, curling on a couch and chuckling. “Nick!” He knelt down before him and steadied his head with one hand to open his eyelids with the other. “Hello, Virgil”, Nick said giggling and let the examination happen. The manager didn't like what he saw. “We have to get out!”, he decided and attempted to lift up his protégé, but then another man appeared in front of him. Looking up, Virgil firstly only noticed the black suit. Then he found the rest of the features and froze. Bright red eyes. More intense than the color he had seen in Nick's. But the look was familiar.

“Doctor Verloc?” Virgil asked in surprise. The man laughed and the voice didn't match the sight. “Perish the thought that that man will ever set foot into my property. No, Mr. Dainty, I'm not Doctor Verloc. I'm in fact one of his more elaborate projects.” Virgil stood up. He was taller than Jack but right now it was his only advantage. “What do you want from Nick?” “I offer him assistance.” “I don't see how you could help him.” “Haven't you noticed the difference?” “Yes, but sadly very late.” Virgil grabbed Nick's arm, still locking gazes with the stranger. “This is over. Come Nick, we're leaving.” “But we're not finished!”, Nick moaned and ripped his arm out of the grip. “I don't wanna go!” He curled up into a ball.

Jack tilted his head. “What makes you think you can leave?” In the twinkling of an eye, he held a shiny object that looked a lot like a cleaver. Virgil's mind was so slow nowadays, but at least his body still obeyed him. With a few quick hand movements he broke a leg off a chair and swung it. “Sorry, was that precious to you?”, he asked when the stranger eyed the damaged piece of furniture. “I'm impressed, Mr. Dainty. Most Wellies would run.” “Then I'm glad I'm not like most Wellies”, Virgil replied. “Nick, run! Call the Bobbies!” Nick however didn't make an attempt to flee. He looked at the scene with wide curious eyes. “Nick! Wake up! Do as I say! Get out of here!” But Nick only gave the stranger a questioning look. The man chuckled. “It seems like you're beyond your authority here. Right Nicky? Stay where you are and wait for me.” “Okay”, Nick said to Virgil's dismay. “No, Nick, you need to wake up!”

Jack was done talking. The thrill was too much. He darted at the manager and playfully let the blade clank against the wooden leg. Virgil returned the swing and hit Jack with all force. Jack backed away, learning that he had to be careful about the strength of this man. Virgil gave it his all. His only hope was a well-placed hit that'd send his opponent on the floor. He couldn't believe it himself when his next strike made the cleaver fly away and get stuck in the wooden panels of the wall. Both him and Jack watched it go, then Jack made more steps backwards, still blocking the corridor, with the manager and his improvised weapon above him. “Nick, stop him!”, Jack shouted. “He'll destroy it all!” Virgil waited, but to his relief, Nick didn't move either. “Nick?” Jack's voice sounded a little less certain. “You're caught in your own web!”, Virgil shouted. “Surrender, or I promise this will hurt!” He didn't reckon that the remnants of the chair would crash against the back of his head with such a force. It made his vision blur and the floor come closer. He didn't feel it when his elbows and knees hit the parquet.

Nick stood above him, looking at his work and then at his friend. “James, are you okay?” “I'm fine. Well done, Nicky”, Jack said solemnly, but also a bit out of breath. He walked over to the cleaver to pull it out of the wall. “I recommend you to have quicker reflexes next time.” “What have I done?”, Nick asked. He had a bad feeling but he didn't know why. “Virgil?” Jack grabbed the manager by the hair and pulled the head up to look at it. Content, he let it fall back down. “He's prepared”, Jack said casually. Nick looked confused. “Yes, he's ready! My congratulations, Nicky, he's your first own work.” “I...” “I leave the honor to you...” Jack held out the handle of the cleaver to him. Nick hugged himself and gulped. His whole body was tense. He shook his head. “No?” Another shake of the head. “What is it?”, Jack spoke with a voice soft as silk. “Are you shy? My god, you're trembling.” He lay an arm around him and brought him closer to the body on the ground. “There's nothing to be afraid of. Look, he's just like the others. With one exception: he's entirely yours.” He smiled. Nick clutched his hair. It was a common gesture when he was uncertain. Jack knelt down next to Virgil and reached out for his meek friend. “Come here.” Slowly, Nick walked over and knelt down next to him. “Is he really...?”, Nick asked. “Yes”, Jack assured him and gave his back a gentle pat. “You're welcome to be more confident about your work. Now, what did I teach you?” “Didn't we want to go outside?”, Nick almost squeaked. Jack chuckled. “Why would we do that when we have such an exquisite body in front of us? Just look at it.” Nick shyly eyed his manager. Jack put his hand on Nick's and brought the blade closer to the delicate flesh. “See, just like that.” Nick cruised along Virgil's upper body, gently, he didn't hurt him. Remembering the movements his friend had taught him, he calmed down. He fastened the grip around the handle and lowered the cleaver.

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