#vixul

(Vixul went over to the desk and sat down.) "Close the door, take a seat on the bed."

"Okay." (Door closed, locked, you get on the bed and sit legs crossed. Looking away.) ". . . ."

". . . . .So." (She's looking away, too.) ". . . It's. . it's alright. Hard to talk to someone about it, isn't it."

"Y-yeah. ." (You hang your head.) "Like, just, it doesn't sound. ."

"Doesn't sound real?" (You look up, Vixul continues.) "Like maybe you're making this all up or something?"

". . . Uh, y-yeah."

"And then a few seconds later there's someone screaming in your head that you're not?"

". . . Heh, yeah, that too."

"And then you wake up a few days later and suddenly oops, you just missed a whole week."

"Or being bullied for making a simple mistake?"

"GODS all the TIME." (Vixul threw her hands up dramatically.) "Please, I'm the host how about one of you take over for a bit."

". . . Huh?" (You tilt your head.) "Host? Like, the one in charge?"

". . . . Oh luna you don't know anything about this do you."

"N-not, not really. Kinda. . ." (You scratched your head.) "There's, there's four. Some of us are, a-are better at things than others. Separate memories, b-but we can share some of them. Having a kind of, mind, space, getting dizzy, it's, all so much."

"Well, you're halfway there already." (She rubs the side of her head.) "Alright, one thing at a time. What're their names? What're they like?"

"Oh, well, there's me, Loop, Mal du Pays, and Null. I'm, well, I guess the one in charge? Host?"

"Host is right, the person who deals with the day-to-day stuff."

"O-okay, then, Loop. Loop helps remember stuff, and takes over a bunch too. Mal Du Pays is, is very introverted, protective, a bit self destructive. Null is. . . Rash? Just, he just wants to get things done. Doesn't care about anything else, I think."

(Vixul nods at each name.) "Sif, Mal, Loop, Null. I nice round four, but don't feel bad if you get more, okay?"

"I-I could, get more?!?" (You tugged at your cloak.)

"More likely you will then wont." (Vixul turned to the desk and began going through it while she talked.) "There's four here, too. Me, Vixul, host. Major, takes care of the body and not here to make friends. Addeline, very carefree, makes sure we don't burn out. And Orcane, who, uh, does things that need to be done. Here" (She turned and tossed a notebook to you.)

(You caught it and opened it. Blank.) "Huh?"

"Keep a journal, it'll help." (She picked up her own.) "Put a message on the first page that anyone new can read. Try and make sure it's updated every day, ask your friends for that, it'll help. A lot."

"R-right. . ." (Odile had suggested before you keep a journal. Well, you had an excuse now at least.)

"Oh yeah, and you can write down things that get certain headmates in control." (She sees your blank expression, and sighs.) "If I hear some upbeat music, Addeline will show up. Some triggers are good, some bad. Make sure to list them down.

"Rrrrrriiiighhht. . ." (Your rub your temple, that was, a lot.)

". . ." (She looks away again.) ". . . Sorry, I know that's, a lot."

"I-it's fine!" (You say, half-true.)

"Sure, buddy." (She shakes her head and takes a breath.) "Right, sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself a bit."

(Vixul turned back to her own journal and began flicking through it.) "The term for what you and I are is 'Plural', the other people in our heads are called 'Headmates', y'know, head-roomates. And as a collective you're called a 'system.'"

(She turns back around, now holding her book of notes.) "We're like this 'cause as kids, our personality is still getting itself together. If something traumatic happens to us, it'll stop that from happening. Skip forward a few years and suddenly your head's fractured into anywhere from a couple, to a dozen, to hundreds of personalities."

(You blink at that.) ". . . Hundreds?"

"Yeah, I know. Not common, but it happens." (She continued.) "Usually each part has their own job; Hosts, you and me, take care of the day to day, memory holders are- well you can guess. Caretakers make sure basic needs are met, protectors step in when the body or mind needs defending."

(Memory holder sounds like Loop, Protector. . . Kinda like Mal? Not really though, Vixul continues.)

"Littles are, well, repressed childhood emotion. Persecutors are personifications of, uh, abuse." (She looks to the side.) "Not inherently evil, it's complicated. O-OH! And if someone doesn't know if any of these fit that's okay!"

"R-right. . ."

". . . You should write this down."

"O-OH!" (Vixul tosses you a pen and you open your new journal. You choose a page near the back and start writing. She waits for you to catch up.)

"Then there's Introjects" (She taps her chin.) "Sometimes when a new headmate is trying to form, they latch onto a personality you already know. Fictive is based on a fictional personality, factive is from, well, real life. They might have phantom memories from their 'source', and, other stuff."

<You pause for a second. That's, that's you.>

(Null?!?)

<Quiet. You look up at Vixul.> ". . . introject."

"Yep." <She tilts her head.> "Everything alright?"

". . . No, not exactly." <You look down at what you had wrote, you had been in the background, but that shook you in controll- Siffrin. . . ? Stars, great.> ". . . I'm sorry, I think I just kicked Siffrin out. I'm Null"

"That's fine, sometimes you just get forced to the front. Good to meet you!" <She wasn't phased for a second.> "Need catching up on anything?"

<You shook your head.> "No. Although I wanted to ask, what about that place in our head? That's not normal, apparently."

"No it isn't, some non-systems have them, but for us it's just, there." <She started messing with her coat sleeve.> "It's how the mind organizes itself I think. It, can feel very real sometimes."

<You nod.> "So I've gathered."

"Oh yeah! Do you get headaches? Or dizzy spells where you can't think? Dissociating?"

"Yes. We do." <You remember multiple times when looping a few days ago that caused that.> "When it happens, we have a breathing exercise. And for me, listening to music helps.

"Good grounding techniques, try and find out what else can help, oh and write it down!"

<You roll your eye, but write it down. You had already filled up a page with notes, stars.> "This is quite a lot."

"It, it is." <She gets up, walking over and sits next to you on the bed.> "It's, it's complicated, confusing, and there's a lot to take in. That's because nothing is universal."

<She continues.> "It's like. . . Well it's like trying to compare those little Change God statues. None of them repeat, but they do rhyme. Right?"

"Right." <You nod.> "So, something we experience another may not?"

"Exactly! Actually, I might have an example. Can you see your headspace right now?"

"One moment." <You breathe in, and out. You're still see the bed. But in flickers you can also see the lightless sky.> "Yes, I can."

"Alright, lets try. . ." <She taps her foot for a moment.> "I know, I'm dropping an apple at your feet."

<?!??!?!!?!?!?!!?>

<You reach out, there's an apple on the ground. It's flickering like the rest of your headspace, but, it's, there?> "How did you do that?"

"Phantom touch." <She smiles.> "I don't get that, but you do. If someone phrases something just right when you're in the right mindset, it'll trick your head into thinking it's happening in your headspace."

<You blink a few times. You still had the apple. You look up at Vixul.> "This seems more unreal the more you talk."

"It does, doesn't it." <She reaches over to pat your back, but notices you wince, and stops.> "W-well, it's, real. Even if it sounds crazy, or people call you crazy, it's real and we gotta live with it."

"Mhm." <You look back down at the journal.> ". . . Any more words of wisdom?"

"Lets see- oh! You could name your little system, too!" <She points a thumb at herself> "We're called Snowflower system."

"Heh, cute." <Your mouth twitches into a smile. A funny little collective name, that could be fun.> "Oh, I did have a question to do with combat; I can't use the others crafts."

"Right." <She nods.> "Well, it's about personality and just, your own skills. Major is good at holding his ground, Addeline is fast, Orcane is sneaky. Just like how you might want to tag out so someone else can deal with something better than you can, you can do it in a fight too. Craft types change too."

<Like how Mal wasn't scissors type. Like how you didn't know any craft skills at all. Like how you could loop on demand, unlike the others.> "It also helps resist mind control."

"Learned that the hard way." <Another nod.> "Thanks again for helping with that, by the way."

"No problem." <Like you helped much in the end.> ". . . Anything else?"

"Just a few notes; make sure to communicate problems with your headmates. Don't get worried if there's times where you don't hear from any headmates. And if someone new does show up, try not to deny their existence." <She looks away.> "That one is mostly for the host."

". . ." <You look directly at Vixul. She coughs.> ". . . Do as I say, not as I do?"

"Well I don't anymore." <She grumbles.> "U-uh, any last questions?

<You shake your head.> "None come to mind. Do you have any last words of advice?"

". . . Just, just one." <Vixul turned to look directly at you.> "Look at me."

<You turn.>

"I want you to listen to me, I need you to remember this and write it down in big letters, okay?"

<You nod.>

"Okay, listen. Above everything else, I need you to do one thing. And that's to give yourself grace. Don't be hard on yourself. Don't try and fit some definition or other peoples idea of what your experience should be."

"Talk to your family, talk to your headmates, figure things out. Experiment with your headspace and see what's possible. See who's better at what. See if there's other headmates hiding in there. But, above all, I need you to remember to just, go easy on yourself, please."

<. . . You nod.>

"Do you promise?!?"

<Another nod.> "I promise."

"Write it down-"

"I'm going to!" <You turn back to the journal. And just like she asked, big letters, underlined three times. "Give yourself grace." You get the feeling this is something she learned the hard way.> ". . . And, that's it?"

"By Luna I think it is." <She's rubbing her temples again.> "Tell ya what, you're still here for a few days, I'll get to writing a booklet or something you can flip through if you're confused about anything."

". . . You don't need to do that." <You stand up.>

"Don't be an idiot." <She stands up too.> "It's not like I have anything else to do. Plus it's the Vaugardian thing to do."

<You chuckle at that.> "When in Vaugarde. . ."

"Do as the Vaugardians do." <She, laughing, then cuts herself.> "Oh craaaab wait, relationship stuff."

"What?" <You turn, confused.>

"Well, you're dating Isa, right?" <She crosses her arms.> "And, well, do you all like him?"

". . ." <Siffrin without a doubt. Mal, you had learned recently, does. Loop kissed him a few days ago so you have no idea. And you. . .> "Everyone bar me. I'm still figuring it out. Although. . ."

<You sigh, rubbing your head.> "We learned a few days ago another of our companions, Ramos, has feelings for us. Siffrin is the only one who may having feelings back." <You pause.> ". . The rest of us neither like nor trust Ramos."

". . . Yikes." <She bit her lip.> "Well, first off, congrats on hitting the lottery; most of you like Isabeau, that is not the norm. Second, uh, well. . . You're, you're doing the right thing already by, talking about this. But you all should be clear with eachother and Ramos. If, Sif and Ramos become a thing it should be only if you guys are okay with it too."

<. . . You nod, and sigh.> "Thank you."

"Can I ask why you don't like Ramos?"

"We were enemies for a time." <You say flatly.> "They were controlled by those who did the same here, yes, but I don't trust them."

"Right. . . Gooooood luck with that?"

"Mhm." <You rub your neck.> ". . . Thank you, Vixul, Snowflower?"

"Vixul's fine." <She goes to sit back at her desk, back to work.> "It's snowflower if you're talking to us all, but, you're welcome."

<You wave, and go to leave. That went well, you weren't sure where Siffrin went, but. . . Actually. . .>

<You stop.> ". . . How did you know Polaris' name?"

<Vixul pauses for just a moment.> ". . Pardon?"

"Polaris." <Your voice was flat. You felt something was off.> "How did you know his name"

"Because. . . That's his name- wait when did you talk to Pol about that?" <She turns to look at you again, her eyes changing from kind to suspicious.>

"His name is from an island that has been wished out of existence." <You press on.> "You're not from there, your accent is unplaceable, and you're using the moon as an expletive. Why?"

<She stares at you in disbelief. You've clearly caught her off guard. She's hiding something more. What was it, Vixul? What did you do?>

<There's a cold, long silence, before she sighs, and turns back to her desk.> ". . . I can't tell you, It's a secret."

"Can't, or won't."

"Won't." <Vixul held up a hand, it was empty.> I won't tell you for the same reason you wouldn't tell me about your time craft."

<She snapped her fingers, and a pair of coins fell from thin air into her hand.>

<There's a second of silence, then she tosses the coins to you. You catch them, and hold them up to the light- No. . .> "How."

"It's not hard to spot a paradox if you know what to look for." <She's still not looking at you.> "Relax, I'm good at keeping secrets."

<You huff, and tuck YOUR two coins back in the pocket they were in a few moments ago. Space manipulation? This explained one thing, at least. When you first broke into her room, she snuck up on you without open the door or making any sound. Hm.> "The people we're chasing used some transportation craft, do you-"

"No clue." <She interrupts.> "Pretty amateur stuff, though, I've met children that could do better."

<You squint.> ". . . Have you?"

<She simply hums in response.>

<You stare at the back of Vixuls head, as if looking hard enough might decipher the enigma of her existence. Nothing about her made sense. What kind of journey has she been on? What can she do that's as dangerous as your time craft? Do you even want to know?>

". . . Fine, if whatever your doing is comparable to what we're doing, I'll leave you to it."

"Same to you." <She turns back to you, finally.> "This world's gone through enough broken time, I do not want to know how it's done."

"Good. It sucks." <You reply flatly.> ". . . Thank you, Vixul. And good luck."