Carpathia sits back stage staring into a mirror chugging her fourth water bottle. She had come to the conclusion that she needed to get better at crowd work. It wasn't like she was particularly bad at talking to people, she just needed to be able to translate the skills she uses for face to face conversations to... face to many faces? That wasn't a good description of it at all, but it was enough for her to fight back some anxiety.

When she was a Staff Sergent, Carpathia often struggled when talking to her squad as a group. So much so it even ended up becoming a bit of an inside joke that she couldn't give a speech to save her life. She made up for it by nurturing personal connections with everyone, taking the time to talk to people one on one. Her poor public speaking was supported by the fact that she already had everyone's respect. But she can't rely on that for contracts, where you're thrust into strange situations with even stranger people. So Carpathia had to practice speaking to large groups of people, and the best thing she could think of was stand up.

This is what led her to spend a month signing up to do comedy routines at a local dive bar. Still couldn't deal with the stage fright, though.

Needed time to myself after that job. Went off to the mountains to do some hiking for about a week. I've never actually done that before, but has nature felt a lot more comforting to be around since I started these contracts. It was nice, just spending a few days in a tent, exploring forests, bird watching. Not to mention the air! You never realize how clogged up the air is in the city until you actually leave it.

I visited a lake and did some swimming. It's not something I do often, since wearing swimsuits still kinda fucks me up, but this place was quiet and isolated, so I felt safe enough to dress down. I just floated there for a while, looking up at the sky. The water was cool and the sun warm. I still remember the feeling so vividly, it's like the world was giving me a hug.

Jesus I sound stupid right now.

Carpathia came home later than expected, having had to extend her stay on the site of the Contract for a short while. Cyrus was preparing a Lamb Roast for his siblings to celebrate Carpathia's safe return. She'd been growing more and more thankful for the family dinners they would have after each of her contracts, she needed something to ground herself after having such close encounters with the supernatural.

With her rapidly growing powers, it was harder to remember the important things. Since this all began four months ago Carpathia had changed rapidly, both physically and mentally. But her brothers were always there to bring her back. The smell of Cyrus' roast slowly cooking reminds her of who she is and what she's come from. Carpathia still feels like herself, but the world around her feels fundamentally different. It was hard to notice at first, but the trees planted into the side walk outside her cafe stopped feeling like background decoration and like another living thing sharing the space with her. Same with the potted plants she keeps on her window sill. Now it's like she has roommates that need to be taken care of very directly.

Carpathia is brought out of her introspection by Lyle looking at her strangely. She stares back at him silently. He seems to be looking at something around her neck, but Carpathia decides it would be funnier to just keep looking at him until he realizes.

It dawns on Carpathia that this is a lot funnier in her head than in practice, especially given that Lyle hasn't noticed yet and she's been staring at him for what feels like half an hour. But she can't abandon the bit yet, right...?

Five minutes passed before Carpathia finally says something.

"Lyle. What're you staring at? I got a bloodstain on me or something?" Lyle jumps slightly,

"Uh, no sorry. Just... What's with the cross? I thought you weren't Catholic anymore?" He says, pointing at her chest, where a stone Celtic Cross hangs from her neck. She takes it in her hands and looks down at it, seemingly as surprised as her brother that she was wearing it.

"Oh this thing, got it on my most recent contract."

"You gonna elaborate on that one Path?"

"Not tonight. I want some Lamb."

Spent my month volunteering at the shelter. Been going there for a couple months now, and I think people are starting to properly trust me over there. Plus, it's great practice for talking to people. At the Safe Harbor, you really only ever meet two or three kinds of people when you're behind the counter. Good customers, bad customers, and weirdos. But at the Family Landing shelter has people of all types. Really lets me flex skills as a conversationalist. Since people are constantly coming in and out, I can never really rely on previous encounters and an already built up relationship. I'm good at getting to know people, though. There's this one family who comes by pretty often. Two dads and their daughter. One of the dads, his name is Jameson, is trans. He can't really afford any of the doctors he'd need to get what he wants done, but he's super thankful to meet another trans person. Guy didn't have a binder, so I gave him some of Lyle's old ones. Not like Lyle is gonna be using them much anymore.

They're a sweet family, but it tears me up inside to see my kin going through this shit, and I can't help them anymore than handing out croissants once a week. I'll fix this, soon.

Carpathia sits in an outdoor seating area of the local Jamba Juice with her two brothers. It's a hot summer day and they all felt like going out together. Carpathia peacefully sips her mango smoothie and watches a pair of crows as they laze about on a nearby tree. Lyle is about to ask her for details on her latest contract when Carpathia cuts him off,

"I'm under an NDA. I can't really talk about it." She says inbetween sips. Pouting, Lyle mutters to himself,

"It's always the fucking red tape..." Carpathia smiles at her brother. She may not be able to talk about what happened on the job, but she can talk about her coworkers.

"I did get to meet a Noire detective, talking dog, and fucking ZMan, though." Her brother's jaws drop. Carpathia can't help but be a little proud of herself, it's rare she gets a reaction out of Cyrus.

"Wait wait wait wait," Lyle says, waving his hands around frantically, "you met ZMan? That rapper that Anjawon really likes?" Cyrus stares at his brother for a moment,

"She met a talking dog and your focusing on the rapper?" Lyle shrugs defensively,

"I dunno man! A talking dog is really abstract, ZMan is someone I've been hearing about for like, the last 6 months every time Anjawon walks through the doors." Cyrus squints at Lyle, clearly dissatisfied with his answer before relenting, allowing Carpathia to continue talking.

"I'm surprised no one mentioned anything about the detective. Guy had the trench coat and everything." She looked between her brothers, waiting for some sort of quipy response, but none came. "Well, he's named Frank, and the dog is Wally. Both of them were pretty chill, kept thinking if I could ask to pet Wally but it never really seemed like the right time. He had this weird power where he could like, do human stuff, but only if no one was looking. Which, sounds hilarious honestly, but very inconvenient. Frank lived up to the job title, was able to sniff stuff out like it was magic. Guy just... saw things." At that Lyle furrows his brow and interjects,

"Well, it probably was magic."

"Oh shut up, I'm trying to be dramatic. Anyway! ZMan! Bit of a weirdo, but that isn't anything bad." The three siblings all raise their smoothies in a silent toast. Three weirdos can recognize one of their own in a heartbeat. "Has fire powers, (yes it works exactly like you think it does) and is able to help people recover from stress just by having a quick chat with them. As long as it's about how everything is the governments fault." The three weirdos raise their drinks in another silent toast before Carpathia continues, "I ended up saving his life, and he mine." Her brothers stare at her for a moment, expecting some sort of explanation. She looks at the two of them, and with a touch of exasperation leaking into her voice says,

"What? I'm under an NDA!"

Been thinking about what I want to accomplish. The place I want to build. It needs to be compact so that I can fit it inside the city, but I don't want to sacrifice the amount of people I'll be able to shelter. That really only leaves me one option, pocket dimension. I've gathered I'm some sort of dryad, I can feel it in my roots, and last I checked dryad's typically have a grove to call home. A special little pocket of nature they have domain over. I want to be able to tap into mine (if I even have one) and to do that I need some magical experts.

I thought about some of the Contractors I've met and who would know this kinda thing. Person who came to mind was Liv, the girl who was able to summon demons and had some strange magic relating to the truth (which, hey, so do I now). My intuition was right. After some tea and sandwiches she got me in touch with "The Cult of Knowledge". She's a strange one, but I think her heart is in the right place. Maybe I'll be able to help her keep her hands clean in the future, who knows.

CW: Gore/Body Horror

Carpathia is sitting in the tub. She's been sitting in the tub for roughly eight hours at this point. By now, the once pristine white porcelain that Carpathia works so hard to keep clean was covered in dead skin and inky black blood that glittered like the stars. Her initial shock at seeing her own viscera had faded after the first few hours. Now she was mostly bored.

Her dull musing was interrupted by a knock at the door. Her family's apartment only had one bathroom between the three of them, so it had been happening through out the day. This time though, the door opened to let in the smell of... something. She sniffed the air slightly, but all she could really make out was her own blood. Suddenly, the shower curtain was pushed aside to reveal her older brother Cyrus, carrying a bowl of chicken soup. His understanding of what his sister was going through right now was based on her very quick and clearly distressed explanation of why she would be taking up the apartment's single bathroom for 24 hours. So, he thought she was sick. And when his sister is sick, he makes her chicken noodle soup. He had also been trying to prepare himself for what he was about to look at. He was warned it would be gross and kind of horrifying. Carpathia wasn't lying.

Before him sat his sister, naked except for the stone Celtic Cross around her neck that she holds so dear and sweating out alien blood. Her skin was slowly peeling off, revealing a layer of wood that seemed to pulse and glow ever so slightly with every breath. He could just barely see little bits of new skin growing on top of the wood through the blood. It smelled like shell fish. By itself this would be concerning, but she had also placed a towel over the bathroom mirror. She hadn't done that in years. His sister was in trouble.

Cyrus likes to think he isn't squeamish. He likes to think all the 'squeam' had been shocked out of him during his time in the military, but there was something different about seeing his own sister in such a sorry state. Her surprise at seeing someone come in melted away into the familiar smile she always greeted Cyrus with and it made him sick to see her pretending this was fine.

"You made me soup? This isn't a cold y'know, I just need to wait it out. I'm not really hungry, anyway." Cyrus' sister had recently developed an ability to make it so everyone she spoke to knew when she was telling the truth. So he could very easily tell that she was entirely serious. Carpathia wasn't hungry. He didn't care. His sister was in trouble, and he wasn't going to sit by and do nothing. He pulled up a bathroom stool and sat next to the tub and started feeding her soup, spoon-full by spoon-full. Her hands were hardly in a state to grip much of anything, let alone use the fine motor skills needed for eating soup, so he would sub in for now.

Carpathia was about to object when Cyrus interrupted her.

"You're going to turn down my cooking? Shut up and eat."

She could formulate no argument to combat his almost mythical rhetorical skills. So, she sat there and let her brother feed her home made chicken noodle soup. Eventually her smile fades into a dull frown, from a dull frown to the verge of tears, from the verge of tears to actual tears. Then, finally, a small, tired smile.

Ten minutes after the soup was finished, Cyrus was still there.

"You know, you don't have to hang out in the bathroom with me. I'll be fine on my own." Truth.

"Don't care, I like spending time with my sister." Truth.

The siblings sat in silence for the rest of the night, enjoying eachother's company.