BubbleGumBlack

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Bubble Gum BLACK
([X])

@@color:#FF3EDC;Playing in fullscreen and with headphones is recommended. However, closing out of fullscreen has been known to erase progress on certain browsers.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;What you see here may only ever be seen by you.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;Click on@@ ''[[links]]'' @@color:#FF3EDC;to advance the story.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;Please read each page with care; you might never come back to it again.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;Now, we ask that you put on the shoes of another, and@@ ''[[wake up.]]''

One morning, you wake up to the sudden realization that you've been ''[[sick.]]'' <<audio "bg" loop play>>

Your skin has grown pink and raw. In fevers, it bubbles like boiling wax. Every night has filled your lungs with viscus @@color:black;''{{{BLACK}}}''@@. You seem to cough up more and more each ''[[morning.]]''

Today, <<print either("the flood shimmers with ''[[sunlight.]]''", "the flood lies under ''[[fog.]]''","the flood is battered by ''[[storm.]]''")>>

<<print either("A ''[[mother and daughter]]'' sit opposite you, only three seats away.","A ''[[salary-person]]'' sits to your right, with their back against the window."," A ''[[vagabond boy]]'' sits across from you, pouring over a T-shirt with the rail map printed onto it.")>>

No care you give will soothe your illness. Thankful, then, that you're not contagious. Doctors call it "Dermalaspitis". Most normal people call it "Gum Skin." So you're taking today off. You've wrapped your face in cloth, withdrawn 5Ŧ, and boarded a train for downtown. You're headed for Clinic Lime, on the corner of Otter and Lord. The train ride's not long, but your mind and eyes are restless. Light filters through a ''[[window]]'' on your left. Around you, ''[[passengers]]'' stretch muscles in their seats.

Written by - Adrian "Ana" Brulé Base stylsheet, "Simple Centered" by - User "L," https://www.glorioustrainwrecks.com/node/5163 Supervised by - Fred Belzile Jennifer Fisher Special Thanks to - Aby H. Aevee B. and co. Alex (and Crackers) Anthony B./H. Elena J. Isaac B. Lauren H. Lauren L. Madison P. Miah O. Michelina P.C. Porpentine Shayda Y. and, of course, You, the player

Both have dry skin, pale from what might be work rail tunnel work. Only the mother is thin. They pass a glass bottle between each other. The mother asks loudly for kisses from other passengers, while demanding that somebody come marry her daughter. The daughter sits, quiet. During one of these demands, the mother pulls down ''[[her daughter's top.]]''

Heavy bandages are tightly woven around their face, continuing past the collar of their three piece suit. They might be the same as you. You can't spot any pink skin. Between the folds, your eyes linger upon thin lips and raw, sunken eyes. They take a swig from plastic water jug they've got on a rope around their neck. It's since been filled with a ''[[thick, muddy liquid.]]''

A mop of curly hair covers his face. His skin shines with wet and motor oil. What you first thought to be a necklace is actually a homemade slinghshot that he wears around their neck. From around his ears hang ''[[marionberries.]]''

The daughter blushes, yanking her top back up. The two of you make eye contact. Her mother laughs and gestures for you to come closer. Maybe your datemate was right about your mom after all. You decide that you ought to just rest your eyes for while. Eventually, you feel the train jerk to a ''[[stop.]]''

You watch them he take the berries off their ear, and pop one in their mouth. It's only then that you're noticed. He scowl at you. You quickly try to make it look like you were staring at something else. You had a friend once who looked the way he did. She wasn't allowed to stay over for supper, so you'd save your plate for the both of you to share after dinner, under the porch. You never knew who to ask when you stopped being able to find her... You feel the train jerk to a ''[[stop.]]''

They never never seem to notice you watching them. You can hear the squelching of their tongue against the rim of the jug. It could be wobbegong blood, though it's hard to tell without smelling it. It was marketted as a high end cure all substance half a decade ago. You remember visiting your datemate in detox every weekend... You feel the train jerk to a ''[[stop.]]''

Seagulls scavange what they can find floating in the waters off the city beach. You see the silhouettes of grift rigs {{{BLACK}}} on the horizon, their crains plunged into the ''[[suburban abyss.]]''

The red light of a distant buoy blurs as it tries to cut through the white. The silhouette of a fishing boat passes in front of it. You watch as it wrinkles the surrounding ''[[water.]]''

Rain smears its hands against the window. In the mist, you see cresting waves lashing out against with with the downpour, the flood rising to try and swallow the horizon. Thunder echoes from some ''[[distant sky.]]''

The doors slide open, and you walk out of the train and on to the platform. Most of the train's passengers seem to. Neon signs lead you from the underground, through the turnstile, and up above onto Otter's overstuffed ''[[street.]]''

Shops line the sides of the crowded road. Rows of crystaline clothing chains are punctuated with New-Georgian style cafés and petrichor clouds. Posterboards with political slogans hang zitpited to lamposts. ''[[Beggars]]'' huddle under overhanging roofs, holding out cups and hats for passers-by. ''[[Local business]]'' spills out on to the edge of the sidewalk. Among pedestrians stand skeletal vendors at plastic tables, selling magic trinkets and charms. Meanwhile, a group of ''[[picketers,]]'' stand apart, waving handmade signs drawn in gaudy colors on the street corner by Lord.

Your dad took you onto his rig once. He was just a part of the hauling crew. Even at work, he always always smelled that way men do right after showering. You remember locking yourself in a closet by accident. The workers thought it was funny. You don't remember being claustrophobic before then... You feel the train suddenly jerk to a ''[[stop.]]''

Your mother used to always crawl into bed with you during thunderstorms. She would smell like cinnamon. She acted like she was trying keep you safe. Her body would tense around yours after each thunderclap. You feel the train suddenly jerk to a ''[[stop.]]''

''Bold'' //Italics// __Underline__ ==Strikethrough== {{{Mono //space//}}} @@Inline styling@@

@@color:#FF3EDC;Yes, like that!@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;Please read each page with care; you might never come back to it again.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;Now, we ask that you put on the shoes of another, and@@ ''[[wake up.]]''

On the street corner, past the picketers, is a Chilotan style office building. A plack with a tenant list is screwd to the wall on the door's right. You spot Clinic Lime, plugged snuggly between a pilot school and an office for imigrant affairs, all nestled on the 10th floor. The building's entrance is sparse and white. You scurry your way past the security guard nodding off at their desk, and towards the elevator at the end of the room. ''[[You press the up button.]]''

Looking around, you see the red light of an exit sign glowing from the end of a hallway on your left. Walking towards it, and find a stairwell. ''[[Wait a minute?]]'' ''[[Begin the climb.]]''

You pass by a group of beggars, huddled in the shade of a clothing store in liquidation. One of them calls out to you as you go, "<<print either("''[[Oh hey, it's you! Come over and talk!]]''","''[[You there! Care for another story?]]''")>>"

You browse one of the tables as you pass, tapping an old lamp with your ring finger. The vendor takes your hand into their own as you do. Their hands are shaking. "Oh my child! <<print either("''[[I think I have something you'll like here...]]''","''[[May I interest you in something more... useful?]]''")>>"

The group shouts and chants, their words rising above the din of the street. "<<print either("''[[THE FLOOD HIDES OUR HOPE! GOD SAVE THE ABYSS!]]''","''[[DROWN NEW FEUDALISM! OUR HOMES ARE OUR RIGHT!]]''")>>"

First floor. Second floor. You feel tired. Third floor. You catch your breath. Fourth floor. Your skin drips with sweat. Fifth floor. The back of your hands are pink and bubbling. You feel your back as it begins to boil too. ''[[You keep climbing...]]''

You stumbling down a carpeted hallway. You see the door to the pilot school. The door to the imigrant office. The door to Clinic Lime. You walk in. The secretary looks up at you from behind a magazine at the waiting room desk "''[[Ah. Is it that time already?]]''"

You frown, and ask her what's going on. "Oh. No, you're right," the secretary says. "I'm being silly, sorry." She looks at your clothes and the cloth on your face. You look at the 'Diane' written on her nametag. "You must be looking for doctor Gauvin, right?" she says. You ask if that would be for Gum Skin. "Dermalaspitis; yes." You nod. "''[[Well, they're booked solid for the next year.]]''"

Your uncle was a fisherman, once. He told you stories about being a young boy, and seeing ghost ships washing ashore after the fishing union riots. He was killed in a fishing accident off the coast of Nuevo-Tenochtitlan about a month later. You stare out at that shadow of the ship until a tunnel wall obscures your vision. The train slows around you until finally jerking to a ''[[stop.]]''

"But, they do work at another clinic on Lord and then up Jubelin, called Bergamot." You ask where that would be. "It's only two blocks west of here, actually! Just turn until you get to building 451." You nod. ''[[Ask about others you might see at the clinic?]]'' ''[[Ask for a glass of water?]]'' ''[[leave.<-Be on your way, then.]]''

Diane frowns. "Not today, no; but, you could always try coming back here in two weeks and we can maybe schedule for an appointment, or see if someone's cancelled and grab that slot... but, I mean..." ''[[Tell her that you'd be better off finding some other place?]]'' ''[[Try to resechdule.]]''

You mention the elevator and the trouble you had making it up to the clinic as you ask. "Wait, it's--Oh my God, I can't -- Ugh!" she stomps down the hallway on her right. "Not again!" When she comes back, she hands you a paper cup of water. "Here. I'm so sorry about this." You tell her its alright as you sip your water. As you finally turn to walk out, you hear her say, "''[[leave.<-Good luck out there!]]''"

"I understand completely," Diane says. "Anything else you'd like help with?" ''[[Ask for a glass of water?]]'' ''[[leave.<-Tell her that you'll be fine.]]''

"Can I see your hand, dear?" You hold one out for her, and she cups it in her own. Her knuckles glisten. Her palms are soft. "Look at me," she says. Her irises look caught in a ring of amber. "Between you and me: you reschedule here, and you'll be comign back every other week. It's my job to offer it, but I'm telling you now: I won't let you do that to yourself. Okay?" ''[[You nod.]]''

Someone has entred the building and walked across the entrance. This person's skin shines with pink. It's like yours, but their skin is softer. Incredibly smoother. Even with the scars that pepper their cheeks. Their chin is too long. Their jaw too sharp. But their lips look so soft in @@color:black;''{{{BLACK}}}''@@ lipstick. As they walk towards you, you notice that their eyes are just as dark. "''[[Know if the elevator's still broken?]]''"

Jumbled thoughts. Radio static. You nod hastily. They blink before nodding back at you too. They walk still closer to you. "I, um. Can I just slip by you, here, then?" they ask. Your lungs trembling. Your head shaking. You jolt aside for them. You gaze at their back as they walk down the hallway and into the stairwell beyond. Your lungs suddenly contract and you gasp. Breathing again, you rush past the security guard, and ''[[back outside.]]''

You turn from Otter and head down Lord Avenue. Lanterns dangle above, hanging on wires bound to poles on opposite ends of the street. People overflow from Otter onto Lord. Most stepping back into the crowd. Some walk onto the avenue, and into one of the buildings lining the way. A few stop only to linger. A figure in an opaque latex suit pulls along a small cart filled with ''[[concert posters.]]'' In moss park on the east side of the road is a courtyard. It glows from people in turquoise lighting candles at an ''[[Oxyde Shrine.]]'' A little ways away, a hard plastic caravan is parked on the moss. From it, a woman in a <<print either("pigeon neck","peacock eye")>> gown and a parasol announces her ''[[politcal platform.]]''

The shrine is a tarp held up by undersea iron, crusted and warpped from oxygen. In it, a book of prayers sits on a small pedestal, as well as a pillow for when you must kneel. Quietly, you walk under its shade. Your skin feels clear again. Clear like a child's. Beside the prayer book is an smooth angel's finger, and an earthenware statue of a woman who holds two stars. You kneel, and ''[[recall your favourite prayer.]]''

You watch as they grab one of the posters, and tack it to the wall of the building beside them. You go to look at it. Over a picture of three girls with brightly coloured hair is printed: @@WELCOME ONE AND ALL!!@@ @@<<print either ("WORST GIRLS'","SPACE JANITORS'","SKULL EMPRESS'")>> GRAND COMEBACK TOUR!!@@ @@YOU KNOW WHERE TO FIND US!!@@ You look the poster over again. No other words are printed. You ask the worker if they ''[[have more information.]]''

You keep walking down Lord until seeing Jubelin. Crossing over onto that street, you pay close attention to the numbers on the buildings you pass. An over-flood adoption agency in 447. An office for a nationalist political party in 449 A clinic is in ''[[451.]]''

The building is porcelain slabbed Brutalism. You walk in, check the tenant list, and find Bergamot on the second floor. You walk up the stairs and into a small, carpeted waiting room, lined with chairs and short tables. A man looks up at you from behind a monitor at the front desk. He says, "''[[Hi, how may I help you?]]''"

You walk over to one of the chairs beside a table, and scroll through the form. You type in your birth names, given names, and favourite names, phone number, preffered phone number, and the addresses of your last three places of residence, before considering the form's other questions. PLEASE CHECK ONE. HEIGHT: ''[[(O)]]'' 15dm - 17dm ''[[(O)]]'' 17dm - 19dm ''[[(O)]]'' 19dm - 21dm

You move on to the next one. ZODIAC: ''[[(0)<-(O)]]'' Seahorse, ''[[(0)<-(O)]]'' Whale, ''[[(0)<-(O)]]'' Gourami, ''[[(0)<-(O)]]'' Hammerhead, ''[[(0)<-(O)]]'' Koi, ''[[(0)<-(O)]]'' Sea Lion, ''[[(0)<-(O)]]'' Tuna, ''[[(0)<-(O)]]'' Gull.

IRIS COLOUR PALETTE: ''[[(B)<-(O)]]'' Sugar, ''[[(B)<-(O)]]'' Beach Farm, ''[[(B)<-(O)]]'' Oxyded, ''[[(B)<-(O)]]'' Abyssal.

<<print either("MOUTH SIZE:","NOSTRIL WIDTH:","TOOTH AMOUNT:")>> ''[[(¤)<-(O)]]'' Normal, ''[[(¤)<-(O)]]'' Abnormal, ''[[(¤)<-(O)]]'' Parabolic, ''[[(¤)<-(O)]]'' Absurd.

You tap to sign your name at the bottom of the form, and had the tablet in at the front desk. "So," the man tells you, "I looked through the appointment lists. I can't book you for an appointment right at this moment, but if you call back in the middle of next month, I can get you an appointment for the month after that." You notice his name tag reads Tyrone. You ask Tyrone if there's anything else that can be done. "No, I'm very sorry," Tyrone says. You nod. He frowns at you. You shrug, and just ''[[walk back out.]]''

You look across the street. The sun hangs low. A lost paper bag, carried by the wind, tumbles across the street. Emptiness haunts the twilight streets. If people are walking, it is to a home. You sit down on the steps in fron of the building, and feel your knees sparking. Your soles beating. ''[[You ought to get going.]]'' ''[[You have nowhere to go.]]''

You decide you should get walking, and so you get up. You'll make your way back to the train station. Eventually. Where are you going? ''[[onward<-Left.]]'' ''[[onward<-Right.]]'' ''[[onward<-Forward.]]''

<<print either("Light pollution tinges the overcast with lemon and lime.","Steam rises from the depths of a sidewalk storm drain.","Cobalt curtains dance in an apartment's open window.")>> The moon fades out of focus in the east, bringing the chill of evening air. It tastes of salt from the high tide. Is that sweat or ocean spray? ''[[keep going<-Right.]]'' ''[[keep going<-Left.]]'' ''[[keep going<-Forward.]]''

<<print either("Distant sirens pulse in and out under night thrums.","Moths flutter into the webs popcorn spiders weave under streetlamps.","Halogen lights spell CLOSED in the windows of a tarot parlor.")>> Your ankles feel stiff. Blood weighs heavy in your fingertips. The cool night air isn't easing your skin. You know it can't. You wonder if that's @@color:black;''{{{BLACK}}}''@@ chruning in your throat. You think you already know. ''[[one more<-Left.]]'' ''[[one more<-Right.]]'' ''[[one more<-Forward.]]''

A one eyed calico sits in the middle of the street. As you walk forward, she calls out to you. You stare at her, watching as she comes froward to rub herself against your leg. A small blue collar is tied around her neck. ''[[Pet her?]]'' ''[[Leave it alone.<-Leave her alone]]''

The cat swerves away from your hand, and you watch her slink away down the street. But then she stops, and turns to meow at you. ''[[Follow her?][$moxie += 1]]'' ''[[Stay.]]''

The ghost of a sneeze threatens your nose. The calico has started looping itself between your two legs. ''[[Pet her?<-Pet it?]]'' ''[[Refuse it.]]''

There's nothing to gone home to, not like this, anyway... But you can't just sit here. Your legs hurt, your soles pulse, but you can't just sit here... ''[[You have nowhere to go.<-Wait just a little more?]]'' ''[[You ought to get going.]]''

The calico stops to look up at you. You shoo it away. It walks a ways away from you, before stopping to sit and stare. It keeps calling out to you. ''[[Follow her?<-Follow it?][$moxie += 1]]'' ''[[Leave it, and wander into night.]]''

You follow her down the street She walks through a narrow brick alley, and into a parking lot. You follow her. The calico turns right, crossing the street, and down a tunnel below an overpass, and your. The streets turn from concrete to comblestone. And you follow her. You follow riht up until she stops. She's stopped at a soapstone townhouse. Its balcony is held to its wall by duct tape. You sit on the sidewalk, watching the calico scratch at the door until ''[[she's let inside.]]''

@@color:#FF3EDC;You walking past it, and down the street. The it keeps calling out after you.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;You don't look back.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;Maybe you'll go back to the clinic. Someday. Ask about their appointment schedules. You've waited this long.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;Your skin is pink and boiling.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;Sweat blurs the world.@@ ''{{{BLACK}}}'' @@color:#FF3EDC;tumbles from around your swollen tongue.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;Sometime that night, you find yourself at the station.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;The trains have stopped running.@@ @@color:#FF3EDC;You feel what must be wings bursting from your@@ ''[[Ending X<-shoulder blades.]]'' <<audio "bg" stop>>

<<set $moxie to 0>> @@color:#FF3EDC;Bubble Gum@@ ''{{{BLACK}}}'' ''[[([X])]]'' <<cacheaudio "bg" "https://a.tumblr.com/tumblr_ozrzliE8CI1wh88tmo1.mp3">> <<audio "bg" stop>>

You watch calico walk back over to you to continue rubbing herself against your leg. You make another move to pet her, and she swerves again, to sit at the same spot as before. ''[[Follow her?][$moxie += 1]]'' ''[[Leave it, and wander into night.<-Leave her, and wander into the night]]''

You see the shadow of her owner in the doorway. You get up and walk over. He's a young man in glasses and a vermouth jacket. His skin shines in the glow from the hallway behind him. You tell him you followed his calico here. He pauses, looking you over. You feel your face turn red under the pink. "You can come inside, I mean, ''[[if you want.]]''"

The house feels bare. Dust clings to the bottom of your feet after you've taken off your shoes. He leads you down a hallway, through a living room, and into the kitchen. "Sorry about... this," he tells you. "I wasn't expecting anyone..." Used dishes are piled up in the sink and surrounding counter. A bag of cat food sits by the door to the balcony. You tell him you live's not much better. He smiles. "You want some tea?" ''[[Yes please.]]'' ''[[No, but thank you.]]''

Some in are wearing their long, turquoise gowns. Those that are children holding the hand of an adult, while caring for the small iron dishes in which sit glowing candles. Their signs showed other slogans against the defunding abyssal retrieval missions. The police stand by, relaxed, at a comfortable distance from the crowd. Despite what distance has grown between you and the shrines, you're drawn in. As the world fades out around you, you find yourself slipping past the past the police line, and ''[[joining the demonstration.]]''

Their signs showed slogans against companies buying up as much low cost housing as possible, in order to shelter their employees. Most of the people there are young. Police in riot gear surround the protestors. Their shields up, pushing the crowd back. Someone darts around the scene with small camera. Among the crowd, you see something shine in the hands of a person wearing a scarf. Copper is in the air, yet you feel drawn. As the world fades out around you, you find yourself having slipped past the police, and ''[[joining the protest.]]''

The crowd pulls away, and you duck to avoid a thrown bottle. It cracks against store window behind you. The police retaliate and start fighting the picketers, and you slip bck through their ranks. Someone swings their sign to smash it into a riot sheild. You think it would be best if you just ''[[hurry along.<-hurried along.]]''

You parrot back something about how the only thing contagious here is ignorance. The crowd pulls away from the two of you. A thrown bottle knocks you to the ground before smashing on the pavement beside you. The police retaliate and begin pushing back the picketers. Someone swings their sign to smash it into a riot sheild. You get up and decide you ought to just ''[[hurry along.]]''

The man's chest is heaving. "This one's gonna get us SICK! Get BACK!" The crowd takes notice. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth. ''[[Call the man out?][$moxie += 1]]'' ''[[Back off.]]''

The woman's hands hold a scarf to her mouth while talking to you. You say yes, and the woman cuts you off. "As some have already told you, your first step to recovery is to admit what you've done wrong." She avoids your eyes as you frown. "Gum Skin has its origin in sin, don't you know? Would you like me to walk you through confession?" ''[[Refuse the offer?][$moxie += 1]]'' ''[[Accept the offer.]]''

The woman nods, but backs away when you move towards her. "I'll, um..." She rummages through the pockets of her jacket. "Here..." She hands you a card. "Please come to this location later, okay? And, um. Maybe phone ahead of time too, please -- so that we can prepare everything for you." You nod, and watch as she joins the crowd before you ''[[hurry along.]]''

The woman nods. Sighing, her shoulders relax, and she walks away.. Before anyone else can apporach you, you decide to just ''[[hurry along.]]''

A smiling man with a cap full of change looks up at you. He puts the cap back on his balding head, and taps the ground beside him. You take the invitation and sit down. The wrinkles look familiar, but the eyes are wrong. "Hey!" he pokes you, "would you believe it if I told you that I think I've found ''[[a job?]]''"

A woman with a cup full of change looks eagerly up at you. She puts the cup down, and pats the ground beside her. You take the invitation and sit down. Her eyes look familiar, but the wrinkles are wrong. "Okay, so..." she clears her throat before looks away into the middle distance. "Durin' my time as a girl, still younger than you are now, I remember the day when, from the bottom of the flood ''[[they brought up the men...]]''"

"Oxyded men. Men of metal and plastic. "ANGELS!" The shrine heads told us. "Angels that died to protect us from the flood!" I skipped school one day to go down to the docks and see 'em... what was left of 'em, see, they were being torn apart -- gettin' their bits all sent off to shrines all over anywhere. "I went back and told my parents 'bout it. "Mom! Dad! They were tearing apart the angels at the docks!" But me sayin' that only gave away that I'd skipped school, and I got sent to bed without supper. I don't know how much I deserved it. "I tried to pray for all the angels, that night, but I didn't know how. Who was gonna even listen to those prayers? All the angels were torn up. "To this day, ''[[I still don't really know...]]''"

The woman clears her throat again. You thank her for her story. "Oh no, thank you!" she says. "I like you people, you know? Your kind with your skins. You might be contagious, but you sure are good listeners." ''[[Tell her it's because your "kind" don't get listened to?][$moxie += 1]]'' ''[[Thank her.]]''

She frowns at you. "Well, that's not true, is it? I mean, I did just just that just now!" You stand up. You can hear her calling after you for a tip. You decide it would be best if you just ''[[hurry along.<-hurried along.]]''

She smiles and nods. After she tries to subtly rattle her cup at you, you offer her your 5Ŧ. She asks you if you would like to hear more, but you shake your head, thinking it would be best if you just ''[[hurry along.]]''

You ask him what he thinks he's got. "So I've bought myself some nice clothes and been standing outside the bathrooms over at the mall over there; guarding 'em. I'm an invaluabile asset to their, um, establishiment." You wonder why they why that would be invaluable, and ask him as much. "Oh, well, can't be letting any Gum Skinners in there, right? It's for ''[[sanitation reasons.]]''"

You sit there, quiet. "I mean, I know they're sick and all that, but they should be off seeking treatment, not walking around with us healthy folk. Right?" ''[[Argue with him?][$moxie += 1]]'' ''[[Let him speak.]]''

The man sways a little as he laughs. "See!" he calls out to the crowd, "This one gets it!" You try to laugh. Your throat is dry. You tip him your 5Ŧ, and tell him goodbye before ''[[hurry along.<-hurrying along.]]''

You telling him that the sick need basic services just like everyone else does; that they have lives and needs outside of just "getting healthy." The cloth you wrapped around your face quietly slips as you talk. "Hey," says the man, "what's up with your... "ACK! YOU! YOU'RE GOING TO GET ME SICK! ''[[GET OUT OF HERE!]]''"

He takes his hat back off and begins smacking you with it. The metal part of the size adjust stings where it hits your body. Passers by turn there heads to watch the both of you, but continue on their way. You decide to get up, and just ''[[hurry along.]]''

You adjust the cloth around your face and nod. The vendor smiles, and reaches into a plastic bin hidden under their table. "Here, take a look at this." ''[[They hold out an angel's eye.]]''

You adjust the cloth around your face as you nod. The vendor smiles, and reaches into a plastic bin hidden under their table. "Here, take a look at this." ''[[They hold out a bottle of skin cream.]]''

They hand you the bottle and you examine it. All that it's labelled with is a handwritten: "SkiN CArE." You ask them why they think you would need this. "Well, judging by how you're dressed, you have Gum Skin -- You all really do dress the same, dear -- But anyway, I'm thinking that, if you took better care of your skin, maybe your health would improve, hm?" ''[[You tell them that that won't help.]]''

You tell her it's something that you need professionals to treat. "If you insist," they say, "after all, who am I to know? But if you want to take this chance I offer you, it's only 3Ŧ." ''[[Save your money?][$moxie += 1]]'' ''[[Buy yourself the bottle.]]''

You hand the vendor your money, and they slide it out from between your fingers. They slide your change across the table before placing the bottle in your open palm. As you walk away, you undo the cap on your new bottle. Benzaldehyde wafts from the liquid inside as you lift it up to your nose. You feel a twitch in the corners of your mouth. You shove the eye into your pocket and ''[[hurry along.]]''

She hands it to you. You turn the glass ball in your hand, rubbing your thumb over the rusted wires at the back. You ask them why you would need this. "Well, judging by how you're dressed, you have Gum Skin -- You all really do dress the same, dear -- But anyway, I'm thinking that, if you took better care of your relationship with God, maybe your health would improve, hm?" ''[[You tell them that that isn't the issue.]]''

You tell them it's something purely medical. "If you insist," they say, "I mean, who am I to know? But if you want to take this chance I offer you, I'll even lower my price. For you? It'll be only... 4Ŧ." ''[[Save your money?][$moxie += 1]]'' ''[[Buy yourself the eye.]]''

The vendor's body stiffens. Eyes wide, they give you a nod. You walk away, brushing against the shoulders and hands of passers by. Something burns into the back of your neck. You turn to look at the vendor, but both they and their table are gone; now swallowed up by the shuffle of the crowd. You decide to just ''[[hurry along.]]''

You hand the vendor your money, and they slide it out from between your fingers. They slide your change across the table before placing the eye in your open palm. As you walk away, you stare into the pupil of your new eye. Light splits into dull fractals on the glassy surface. You shove the eye back into your pocket, and ''[[hurry along.]]''

Your mouth outlines the first few words of what you remember. You feel the skin on your forehead grow hot at it begins to ''[[swell.]]''

From behind your face cloth, @@color:black;''{{{BLACK}}}''@@ bursts through a bubble in your skin. It slips through what covers your face, splattering across the inside of the shrine. The statue of the woman somehow shatters under the impact. This was a mistake. ''[[Try to clean it up?][$moxie += 1]]'' ''[[Run.]]''

You catch the end of her speech as you draw near. " -- however, I believe that there is greater benefits to coal than what history may tell us!" You see a decal on the side of her caravan that reads: "Malissa Rosemont Brings New Dawns." "This is a new age, with new knowledge! Why must we still be bound to our past mistakes? We ought to be able to forge a new path and bring ourselves closer to enlightenment! What do y'all say?" The crowd cheers around you. You adjust the cloth around your face. Malissa steps down off the stage to ''[[meet with her audience.]]''

She almost jerks from one person to the next, smiling brightly, vigorously shaking eager hands. Caught up in watching her do her work, you're surprised when Malissa begins to address you. "''[[Hi! What's your name?]]''"

You tell her. "Ah! You're that Gum Skinner! Oh, I love you guys! You and the rest of you all have such incredible //strength//." She looks around the crowd "CAN WE GET A CAMERA OVER HERE?" ''[[Let the photo happen?]]'' ''[[Refuse to be photographed.][$moxie += 1]]''

You tell him you're looking for Dr. Gauvin. He looks back down at his monitor. The keyboard clatters as he types something in. "We can try to book you for an appointment," the man tells you. You try telling him that Clinic Lime reffered you here, and the man sighs. "Yes, we get that a lot. Do you live in the area?" You shake your head. He reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a touch tablet. "While I look for a place to shcedule you, can you work on filling this out ''[[for your file?]]''"

You shake Malissa's hand, and it's limp in your hand. You hear her make a small wince, and relax your grip. Her camera man comes around to take the photograph. People are cheering around you. You try to meet Malissa's gaze. The whitened teeth lining her smile look far too sharp. The photo taken, the crowd reforms to swallow her in adoration. You decide it's time you ''[[get going.]]''

You you step away from her, shaking your head, lifting up your palms. She stares, and closes the gap between the two of you, leaning in close to your ear. "I have plans," she says, "to help make treatment easier for you all. Isn't that something you'd be willing to help me promote?" ''[[Refuse to be photographed with her?]]'' ''[[Let the photo be taken.]]''

Turn and walking away, squeezing back through the crowd. The people shift to tighten themselves back around Malissa. Leaving the park, you hear her laughing high above the din. You decide to just ''[[get going.]]''

You finally shake her hand. It reminds you of wet pasta. Her camera man comes around to take the photograph. People are cheering around you. Malissa refuses to meet your gaze. Her cheeks are propped in a smile. The photo taken, the crowd reforms to swallow her in adoration. You decide it's time you ''[[get going.]]''

You brush your hands across the debris, sweeping what you can into a pile on the pedestal. You hear a boy coming up behind you. You turn to see he's dressed in turquoise. He asks, "Is everything alright, sirdam?" ''[[Tell him what happened?]]'' ''[[Run.]]''

You readjust the cloth around your face, and hurry away from the shrine. Bodies in turquoise move aside for you, their heads turning to watch you leave. But the loudest thing you hear is still your feet pounding against the ground. All you need to do is ''[[get going.]]''

"Oh. Again?" the boy asks, looking down at the debris you've collected. He looks back up at you, "I don't believe you've ever been at fault for this." You nod and thank him. "But, my opinion is rarer, so I suggest you make your stay here short." You bow to him, adjust the cloth around your face, and ''[[get going.<-head on your way]]''

Among the protestors, the air is vibrant. Tbecome too loud to recognize anymore. The police have begun shouting. You catch the eye of a man in the crowd. He's holding a sign over his shaven head. You realize the cloth around your own face is coming lose "''[[Hey, get back!]]''"

Among the protestors, the air is sweet. The words of their chants and hymns become too loud to recognize anymore. You catch the eye of someone in the crowd. A woman in a turquoise jacket. You realize the cloth around your own face is coming lose. "''[[Have you come into town seeking better health?]]''"

They look towards you. Their eyes peer out of a transparent slot in the mask of their suit. "Sorry, friend, I'm just here putting these guys up. Whoever did the graphic design for this stuff was one weird hecking -- They begin coughing. Staggering. Their cart's handle clatters as it hits the ground. @@color:black;''{{{BLACK}}}''@@ splatters the inside of their visor. ''[[You watch, waiting...]]''

Straining lungs cause the person to double before the coughing finally stops. "God I hate that." They lift their mask up to wipe the inside, spitting the excess through pink lips and onto the sidewalk before straightening back up. They're clearly not alright. ''[[Ask if they're being treated anywhere?]]'' ''[[Leave them be.]]''

"Oh, yeah it's you, with the uhh..." They wave their hand in front of their face. You fiddle with the cloth around your own. "You look fine," they tell you. "And yeah, if I knew a good place, I wouldn't be out here working with //this// thing on, right?" You say it doesn't look like it helps much. "It's not even for me," they say, "it's so I don't 'Contaminate My Workspace'. We gotta put of with so much of this..." ''[[Share your story?][$moxie += 1]]'' ''[[Let them get back to work.]]''

You nod to the worker. The worker nods back, gasping. "Yeah, don't worry, I'll be fine." You still stay for a time, watching as they lean up a against a wall, catching their breath. But eventually you know you need to ''[[get going.]]''

You tell them about the train ride, going to the Lime, and needing to leave for elsewhere. "Yeah, heard about Bergamot," they tell you. "Hope it all'll work out for you." You thank them, and they nod. Their eyes tell that the mask covers a smile. "Anyway..." The worker looks back at his cart of posters, "guess I better get back to this thing." They look back up at you, "You take care of yourself, okay?" You nod, smiling, and turn to ''[[get going.]]''

You nod, and tell them you should get going. They nod back at you. As you go, you say that they should take care of themself. "Oh, I've been doing my best, don't worry," they tell you. "You take care too, though, alright?" You nod, smiling. Through their visor, you catch the worker smiling too. You stall, watching them work for a while, before you really ''[[get going.]]''

You sit on the well's bottom stair. You would catch your breath, but it hasn't gone anywhere yet. There's only so long you can wait. ''[[Begin the climb.<-Begin the climb?]]'' ''[[Wait a minute?<-But you a little longer...]]''

You stagger all the way back down those ten flights of stairs again. You rest on the first steps at the bottom of the well for a time you could never measure. But eventually, you do get back up and walk out towards the entrance. And as you do, you can't help but ''[[stare.]]''

Sixth floor. You gasp to fill your lungs. Suns are bursting in and out of your vision and you need to rest for a moment. Seventh floor. You feel ready to cry. You wonder if this is what your mother felt all those years ago. Eighth floor. Your ribs ache. All over, your skin is bubbling from under your clothes. Your heart tries to climb its way up out of your throat. Ninth floor. You throw @@color:black;''{{{BLACK}}}''@@ up onto the landing by the 9th. You rest again. Grey tears are hot on your cheeks. Tenth floor. You are doubled over and heaving, yet still somehow manage to ''[[open the door.]]''

You watch him reach into the sink to tear out a kettle. He sets it to boil on the stove, before opening a cupboard and checking a small paper box. "We only have green, I hope that's okay." You nod. He pulls two mugs out of the sink, and rinses them off. The water is boiling. He pours it out, pops the bags in, and hands you yours. The mugs taste clean. "So," he says, "what's brought you ''[[out here?]]''"

"Fair enough," he says. "Never liked it much myself. Just sort of... got used to it." He pours the two of you glasses of water. "So, what's brought you ''[[out here?]]''"

You say that you have Gum Skin. "Dermalaspitis," he tells you. You tell him about the train ride and the two clinics and every person you saw in between and you tell him how tired you are, you're just tired, just really really tired. There's a still once you've finished your story. The man sits up and swallows. "Yeah, dealing with that whole thing is ''[[rough.]]''"

He walks into the living room, and out of sight. You sip your drink. You watch as calico walks in, and stands on its hind legs to get into the bag of cat food. The man comes back in, rattling a pill bottle. He sits down at the table. "I have problems with memory, see?" he tells you. "Sometimes, I just remember too much, and that's where these come in." He hands you the bottle. "They're obviates. With these, I'm allowed to forget. I might've already met you before and just forgotten. "They can help you forget too, ''[[if you want...]]''"

You ask what that would change. He leans back in his chair. "From what I've heard, Dermalaspitis is funny like that. If you can manage to forget about it, the symptoms just sort of... go away. Most people won't even know you have it. You can go back to living how you were before any of this. How does that sound to you?" <<if $moxie is 3>>\ ''[[No.]]'' <<else>>\ ''[[Yes.]]'' <<endif>>\

You tell him going back is all you've ever wanted. He nods, before drumming his fingers on the kitchen table. "I'll make some space in the living room for you, tonight. You're going to wake up a little dazed tomorrow and I might need to talk you through it." You thank him. Space is made on the couch. The man hands you a blanket. You take a pill with the last of your drink, and ''[[Ending X<-fall asleep.]]''

You tell him it would change nothing. That the sickness will still be there. Even if you forget. So, whatever is going to help you with your the skin; with the @@color:black;''{{{BLACK}}}''@@ is going to need to embrace it. Because it's never going away. ''[[The man nods.]]''

He sighs, looking around his kitchen, drumming his fingers on the table. "I'll make some space in the living room for you, tonight, if you want it. It's not much, but it's better than dying out there in the night." You thank him. "I just hope you remember all this and stick with it tomorrow, when you ''[[Ending X<-wake up.]]''"

"How were you thinking about getting treated for it?" You tell him you just wanted to feel comfortable in your skin again. "Yeah? I know some people just kind of let it all sit. They stop bubbling, but their skin goes pink and their eyes go all ''{{{BLACK}}}''." You nod. "Never got that. Just looks weird. But maybe that's me; not like I have to make that choice anyway." You swallow. He stares at you for far too long. "''[[I might have something here, actually...]]''"

You look up and see a handwritten sign on the elevator door. ''[[Sorry! Out of Order.]]''

"Anything else that I can do for you, dear?" she asks. ''[[Ask for a glass of water?]]'' ''[[leave.<-Be on your way, then.]]''

FINGER LENGTH TO ADJACENT WEB RATIO: ''[[(p)<-(O)]]'' 7:3, ''[[(p)<-(O)]]'' 12:9, ''[[(p)<-(O)]]'' 4:3, ''[[(p)<-(O)]]'' 1:1.

DOMINANT PHENOTYPE: ''[[(o)<-(O)]]'' Frog, ''[[(o)<-(O)]]'' Salamander, ''[[(o)<-(O)]]'' Caecilian, ''[[(o)<-(O)]]'' Muddied.