After a quick internet search, you figure out how to make scrambled eggs in the microwave. Over breakfast, you update your dream journal, detailing the new mechanics you figured out--including Anti-Plaire and the video game powers. You'd like to experiment with different games moving forward, as well as see if duplicate house keys (or just any key, in general) can unlock doors in the prison.

Hitting up the Back Room today seems like a solid plan, at least to see what they have to offer--though you'd also like to save a little energy for that concert you saw advertised tonight.

You also do a cursory internet search into the history of your house. This has to be happening for some reason, and while there's articles online about repetitive dreams or stress dreams, none of them are ... quite like what you've been experiencing. Something else is going on--if not with you personally, then with the house. The tube creatures repeating lines from your own memory suggests you're not completely a bystander to whatever the hell this is, but these nightmares didn't start until you moved away from Addersfield.

Looking online for the history of the house, however, turns up a big fat zero.

It is... kind of a small town up in the mountains. A bigger city you'd fully expect to have all their housing history and zoning and whatever else uploaded to a convenient internet database, but this town hardly exists online. Just searching the town by itself only turns up a handful of results, mostly from the (fairly unexciting) local news station.

Alas, you fear that a more thorough search into this house's deal might require extra steps. The local library may keep up with that kind of information, or at least be able to point you in the right direction. Plus, they may know other things about the town--things that could elude even the bus network.

You lean back in your seat and just... sit for a minute.

You don't feel any more exhausted than you should, but you do feel... stripped? Lessened? You feel like last night took something more out of you than it did the first night this happened, though you can't figure out what. You're also pretty sure you've never felt this before. You're just... drained, in some weird and intangible way.

You do feel a little better after eating.

Now you just need to take the next step.

Keys? Games? House? You have a lot of questions, but limited time (and energy) (and money) to get answers with.

You give your clothes a quick smell check.

...You think you can squeeze one more day out of these, but after that you're pushing it. You remove the potato from your pants pocket and put it in the box with its brother, as you would look very strange wandering around town with a potato in your pocket.

You get dressed and head to the bus stop. It takes a little while, but the bus eventually shows up.

The bus is ... not empty this time.

"I didn't take you for a morning person," comments the bus.

"I'm not," you mutter softly, not really wanting to draw the attention of strangers. You take your previous seat near the door. As the bus starts up, you practically whisper to one of the screens. "Hey. Does this town have like... a library?"

"Well," begins the bus with a, uh, less personal volume, "MondolBooks offers a wide selectio--"

"You know she don't wanna hear all that," sasses the woman in the set of seats next to you.

"There's also a public library not far from here," the bus instead offers.

"That works," you reply, still half asleep.

"We HAD a few book stores," speaks the woman again. "My next door neighbor and her husband used to run one. Then Mondol moved in."

"Bunch o' assholes," grumbles the big guy at the back of the bus. "They're shuttin' down everybody. My boss's been gettin' letters from 'em, tryin' to threaten us over zoning laws an' shit. If I ever meet that Mondol guy I'm kickin' his ass."

You're... a little surprised. There's been a lot on the news lately about protests and huge companies getting busted down, and Maria--who you met yesterday--was pretty fired up about Mondol. ...But you're pretty well used to the public at large just kind of sucking it up and dealing with it. The power company, your internet provider, AND the local convenience store chain--just off the top of your head--were all ran by callous companies cutting every conceivable corner back in Addersfield. You were told to stop complaining--because what else were you going to do about it? Not have power? No internet? No soda? They'd already killed all their direct competition for miles. Nothing to do but get used to it, that's life.

That's what you were told.

That's how everyone there behaved.

This town seems... less eager to welcome their corporate overlords.

They have not yet acquired a taste for fine boot leather, and it's kind of refreshing. They might not be headed to MondolMall with torches and pitchforks yet, but just the fact that they're not quiet about it--or worse, defending it--reinvigorates you a bit, and makes you feel better about your decision to move here in spite of... well, everything else.

The ride to the library is indeed short. You thank the bus and hurry off, walking into the library to find...

The most built woman you have ever seen with your own eyes. She is jacked. You've seen genetically engineered people before--there were a few working for the oil company back in Addersfield, and one on the police force. You usually hear them referred to as customs, though tough street punks in movies sometimes call them tube cops. That's what they were originally designed for, to be a ready made police force; however, over the years they've started being used as fightball players, bouncers, and... pretty much anything else that needs physical labor, but can't be done by a robot (yet). There was a couple attempts to put them in MMA, too, but it never panned out.

You've just never seen anyone--not even genetically engineered--this totally shredded in person. If she flexed, you're pretty sure her shirt would just fucking explode--and maybe take half the library with it. She's petting a cat when you walk in, but the jingle of the door gives you away. You stop dead in your tracks as she rises and turns to face you.

All you can manage to force out is, "D-did something happen?"

"Oh, no," the woman laughs. You have never, never heard an engineered person laugh, not even on TV. Her clothes are visibly straining to hold her in. "I'm not a cop. I know! It's crazy. I seriously work here. I'm Cici!"

"Plaire," you reply. You're still a little stunned. God damn she's built like a tank but she's so happy and you were not prepared for this

"You new? I've been around a while and I don't think I've seen ya before."

"Oh, yeah, uh--" Focus. Not on the biceps. Not on her eyepatch, either. Deep breath. "--I just moved here. That... uhhh... that's why I'm here, actually. I need to see if the library has records on my house. Like, who used to... own it. And all that."

"Oh, sure!," she replies. She's so chipper. "Yeah, we got that. Where ya live?"

You tell her your address as she starts to circle the counter. She stops, throwing a glance back toward you. "Ohhh. You live in that house."

You reflexively squint. "What's wrong with it?"

"Dunno!," she freely admits. "Nobody stays there long, though. It just keeps gettin' cheaper and cheaper, I thought about buying it myself this last time but--well! You know how it is. One sec."

Cici disappears into a room behind the front desk for a minute or two. You have a stare down with the cat, who flops over just as Cici returns.

"Sooo... the mayor has it."

"...The mayor," you repeat.

"Yup," she confirms. "Mayor Parsons has your house's file checked out."

"...The fucking mayor," you repeat.

"Had it for a while now, it looks like," says Cici. "You could always go ask for it, I guess."

You're not sure what kind of face you're making, but you're definitely making a face.

Cici gives a big shrug, and you see muscles you didn't know existed. "Maybe the mayor wants to know why people keep moving out, too...?"

The mayor.

The mayor of the town.

The mayor of town has the file on your house. Specifically. Your house. The house you live in. The mayor.

"...You alright?," Cici asks.

"YEAH." Whoops. Bit much. "Yes. ...Yup. Yeah buddy."

"Can I, uh... pet the cat?"

"Oh, yeah! That's Meatloaf." Cici replies. "Just don't feed him."

You lean down, extending your hand. The cat cautiously approaches you, sniffing at your fingers. "Why...? What happens if I feed him?"

"He gets fatter," Cici chuckles. The cat begins to rub up against your hand; you start to gently pet the cat.

Yesss.

Cici continues. "I feed him, and everybody that visits brings him snacks. Meatloaf's gettin' to be a little tubbers!"

He is, in fact, a cat with some heft. Befitting his name, he soon flops over and lets you pet his belly. "So..." You swallow dryly. The mayor. Holy shit. "What's the mayor like?"

"I heard she's kinda weird," Cici says. "I never met her, though."

"...She? Mayor Parsons is a woman?"

"Yup," says Cici with a nod. "I think a lot of people voted for her 'cuz she's different. Not JUST being a woman, but... eccentric. I hear that word a lot. Last mayor we had was an old white guy, and he was mayor forever and everybody was sick of his sh-- his stuff."

You smile a little. "I'm not gonna like... report you for cursing or anything."

"Oh, well--" Cici puts a little more sizzle on it, "Everybody was sick of his SHIT. Ms. Parsons came outta nowhere--like, for real nobody knew who she was--and just dunked on him. I heard it wasn't even close, but--well, you know how it is. I don't really keep up with politics."

"So she was elected... pretty recently...?"

"Oh, yeah," Cici replies, "Parsons became mayor maybe... I dunno, less than a year ago."

Well that's definitely not even more suspicious.

You continue to pet Meatloaf, but he holds no answers.

You finally change the subject. "What else is there to do in this town?"

"You find out, you let me know," Cici says with a grin. "I'm still gettin' used to actually HAVING time off and I have NO idea what I'm doing. All I got is working out too much. There's a gym and a shooting range if you don't mind seeing a bunch of cops."

That explains so much.

"...Have you ever heard of Biggest Shrug? I guess they're a local band...?" You ask while giving what is probably not the biggest shrug. "I saw an ad, and they're doing a concert in somebody's garage tonight."

"Never heard of 'em," Cici says. "I mostly just listen to Vernacular Montage... oh, and $tar. I would totally go to some random concert, though!"

You tell her the address and time of the garage concert.

Cici smiles. "Heck yeah! That's awesome. I gotta check that out." She puts her hands on her hips. She furrows her brow at the floor for a second.

"...I might know another place you'd dig, if you like a little danger."

You stand up straight to face her. Meatloaf makes a disgruntled cat noise at you. "...Oh?"

"The old library," she says. "See, the last mayor didn't take care of SHIT, so the old library fell apart. Well-- I mean--" She sort of vaguely motions to the room around you. "--This one isn't fairin' so hot either, but the last one, hoo boy. Most of the books were so water damaged, or eaten by moths and stuff, that this library's like half the size. Prob'ly smaller, even!"

"...So what's left?," you ask.

"Well," Cici begins, "The STORY goes that the last librarian was into some freaky stuff. I don't know what happened to her, either, I kinda tripped and fell into this gig. ANYWAY, the old library's been abandoned for like five years and now they say it's haunted or aliens visit it or SOMETHING crazy. When I started here I had people warning me to check behind furniture for pentagrams. I had one guy warnin' me about government bugs. No idea if any of it's true, but that place has got a history."

"...Huh. Alright." You give a small nod. "Thanks."

Could be nothing. Could be extremely relevant.

Cici smiles. "Just be sure to bring a weapon or something, 'cuz that's on the north edge of town and there's a bunch of animals out there."

"Oh."

She taps her head--or more specifically, she taps at her eyepatch. "That's how this happened! BIG ass mutant wolves."

"Oh."

"Yup."

Alright. That... changes the priority of that plan a bit, then. You take a breath. "So this library... does it have electronic records? ...And/or games?"

"Pfft, I wish!," Cici declares. "That computer there? I bought that. Last week. This place is in the stone age! Paperwork's a butt to deal with. I get paid good, though, and I'm not fighting any giant wolves." She gives a small shrug. Meatloaf hops up onto the front desk, and very briefly--but visibly, if only for an instant--struggles to stick the landing. Cici grins, cupping his chubby cheeks in her large hands. "Meatloaf's gettin' there, though--aren't you, ya little chunker? You're a little tubby kitty! Yes! You're a little fatty cat!"

She scoops him up into her massive arms and begins to sing to him about what a round cat he is. He does not seem to care, for she is rubbing his belly. You are in awe of Cici's confidence, but also her muscles.

While Cici continues to serenade the cat, you wander deeper into the library. You have... a lot to think about.

A gym could be good. Getting in better shape should, probably, help you in the dream world. ...Maybe? It would at least help keep you healthy while you otherwise just play video games and sleep, and it's social interaction--

...but it's social interaction.

And not just walking outside on your own terms to talk to people, but exposing yourself--making yourself vulnerable and putting yourself in a place to be judged by complete strangers in an environment you can't even pretend to belong in.

Frankly, the idea of walking into a gym scares you more than the dungeon does.

You'd have to think about it more, but you're honestly less worried about the giant mutated wolves.

You could always just work out at home.

You could ask Cici to help you work out at home.

You take a deep breath. Maybe think about something else.

You could get a gun?

Gun laws are pretty lax but guns are kind of expensive. You'd have to save up, but--hey, any bullets you use in the dream should regenerate the next night, right? And it would make you feel safer against any wild animals if you have to venture north.

...Though, Cici was probably armed. Right? And she still lost an eye trying to fight one of those animals. You're not sure how big of a gun you could handle, but it's probably not enough to take something like that head on. You'd need to train and practice, too, as you've never used a gun before--and you're... hesitant to find out what kind of people hang around a shooting range.

Hmm.

You start to see what Cici meant about this library not being in much better condition. There's stains on the floor from leaks in the ceiling. All of the books are extremely old, many weathered and damaged, and the selection's not great in general. You do manage to find a cook book, but it's like... housewife fondue recipes from the 60s.

You're not even sure what a fondue is.

You do need to check out something as a thinly disguised excuse to come back, though. If you end up checking out the old library, you'll probably want someone to come with you, and that someone is probably Cici. Also because Meatloaf is here.

You manage to find a huge stack of old magazines; you randomly grab a magazine about cats.

You also find a book about haunted houses.

You take the cat magazine and haunted house book back up to the front desk. Cici modifies your ID card to double as a library card.

"So... uh..." You swallow dryly, doing your best to not sound nervous. "I'll see you at the concert...?"

"Yup!," Cici replies. "9:00 pm, right? I'll seeya there!"

You start to leave, but something occurs to you. "Oh, uh--real quick--is there a map of the town here...? Or a phone book?"

"Oh, yeah!" Cici disappears through the door behind the desk, returning soon with a town map and a phone book.

After a few minutes of you both looking at the map, Cici shakes her head. "Is it just me, or...?"

"No," you shake your head in return, "...I can't read this map for shit."

"Oh, good," she laughs. The map is... old, and designed in the least intuitive way imaginable. You can definitely tell where streets are, but everything else is a bunch of indiscernible shapes and weird utility jargon.

The phone book, luckily, is pretty recent and also not seemingly written by aliens. You quickly acquire the address and phone number of the mayor's office.

You thank Cici and head back out, books in tow.

You wait for a little while at the bus stop; it's about 11:30 am when it pulls up.

Maria, who you met yesterday, is on the bus (and in your usual seat). There's also a man standing at the back of the bus; he stares at nothing in particular through opaque lenses, and is mid-declaration when you walk through the door. ...On closer inspection, he may be blind.

"--But many things grow and live without being alive, and many are alive but never live and never grow. Growth and life are powerful concepts, but they're not elementary. They're not key or core to the world, they're side effects. Green is not life; green means survival."

As you sit down, Maria throws a glance back toward you. "Plaire, right?"

"Yeah," you mutter.

She leans over and half-whispers. "Don't freak out. That's Franklin. He uh... just kind of does this."

Franklin continues, as though preaching to no one. "One cannot grow if one does not survive. Green can be survival itself--mixed in with the blue of detachment and absence, you have a doctor's scrubs. Green can also be a challenge to survival... like acid, or poison, or toxic waste. No violence, no passion, only a threat to survival."

"But how much green have you been smoking?," Maria asks him.

Franklin grins wide. "Well, Miss Emperatriz. One does what one must to survive."

"Where would you like to go next, Plaire?," the bus asks you. "I'm, uh..." You mull it over for a moment. "I'm just gonna head home."

As the bus travels, you look back at Franklin. You take a deep breath... and muster up the courage to talk to him. "What do you think about haunted houses...?"

"Depends on the house," he says simply, before adding, "Depends on the ghost. They're just memories--like photos of moments that took a life of their own. Not all are bad memories. ...Not all are good ones, either."

"You're not planning to check out that old library, are you?" Maria asks.

"You could do worse for ghosts in this town," Franklin states. "Rats, on the other hand..."

"I saw a rat the size of a pit bull in that neighborhood," Maria says. "Never go that far north if you can help it."

"You should see the rats in the cities," Franklin replies. He gives a faint smirk. "Rats bigger than a man."

Maria shakes her head. "I can't tell if you're for real right now or if that's another of your metaphors."

The bus chimes in. "I've not seen one myself, but there's buses in the Chariot MT network closer to the capital. They've seen rats that size."

"Damn," concludes Maria. "Yeah, screw all of that."

Franklin nods slowly. "What does not kill makes one stronger, and all those unregulated power stations try so very hard to kill everything. Rats. Birds. People. I've seen roaches that would blow your mind."

Maria leans forward, staring straight at him. "Franklin. I'm going to be blunt. I never, EVER want to know how big roaches can get."

Franklin smiles wider. "Nobody does. If I'm fortunate that's the worst secret I'm taking to my grave."

The bus drops Maria off at her grocery store before circling back around toward your house. You're not sure where Franklin's going, or if he's really going anywhere at all. You pretend to skim through your magazine while he continues to rant, though now about pollution and how it's screwing up the environment. He's not wrong, but aside from a declaration that EM induction fields are "making more ghosts" and that low frequency towers are "waking up things best left sleeping," it's not anything you haven't heard before.

You thank the bus as they drop you off at your house. You check the mail before you walk inside, but alas--no money yet.

Once inside, you make yourself a decent lunch and settle in at your computer.

You do an internet search for the mayor.

Her full name is Rill Parsons. She ran for mayor as left leaning but independent. You confirm what Cici said--that she just appeared out of nowhere. Parsons moved into town not long before running for mayor; this wasn't seen as particularly odd, as the previous mayor, Larry Montane, basically did the same thing. Parsons did almost no campaigning whatsoever (which isn't surprising, if she's not a millionaire or backed by a political party). There's also no hits for her name prior to her showing up and running for mayor.

...There's also no pictures of her online. Zero. Before or after mayor status.

"She's asking questions," said one local police officer who chose to remain anonymous, "which is more than Montane ever did."

"I hope she likes sloppy seconds," said another of the town's residents, Kate Halford, "'cuz ol' Larry's already licked all the corporate boots."

Citizen Marlow Tuck was less enthusiastic about the candidate. "I think she's some kind of vampire," he began. "No [censored], a [censored] vampire. She's still better than what we got. That's how bad things are--heck, if I didn't have a felony on my record, I'd vote for her."

In spite of an absent campaign and refusing to participate in a debate, Rill Parsons still won the election by a pretty convincing margin. Larry Montane moved out of town shortly after.

...And became a senator. Huh.

You were half expecting him to have mysteriously disappeared, but apparently he failed upward with a vengeance.

Other than that, there's not much on her. It doesn't seem like much of note happens in this town--which, again, is not surprising. It's bigger than Addersfield, but not by a lot.

There is one headline of note: Mayor's Office Receives Visit From Federal Agents. However, when you click the link you discover that the article was deleted at some point.

There's another: Mayor's Secretary Detained After Altercation With MondolGroup. Also a dead link.

It's about 1:00 pm.