Ripley Ross's Questionnaire

These questions come from the voices of wayward spirits, asked to Ripley through her troubled dreams. She does not quite understand why these questions come to her in this way... but the importance of answering truthfully is not lost to her. She replies to the twisting shapes in her Voice, being fully capable of speaking in the realm of spirits. Wherever these answers go, she knows that they will help someone, somewhere lost in Limbo. From her voice to spirits find their way out of that endless maze, to eventually be brought peace and calm.

Ripley's Voice is soft, with more than a hint of sadness. As she speaks, her tongue glows a faint, dark purple, sparking with a strange energy. "... I grew up in the Bay Area. I've been here all my life. Marin was not always my home, though. I was raised in South San Francisco... The reason why I live and work in Marin now is because of a happy accident... 

Most mom and pop shops go out of business all the time in Marin. The cost of renting keeps going up and up... I was lucky enough to inherit my shop in downtown Mill Valley. Uncle Joselito gave it to me after a long fight with cancer. I knew how close to death he was as soon as I saw him in the hospital the first time... the way the spirits clung to him, gripping at the crinkles in his clothes, their necks turning sharply at every cough or sputter. I helped him get all of his worldly concerns sorted out... and when he finally passed, I continued to speak with him, to send messages to his wife and children. So grateful for my help, the family sold me the property for pennies on the dollar, with the one condition that I would use the space to help others the same way that I did them. 

The two-floor property is nestled between two other shops, all in the same construction. My window proudly displays Ripley's Fortunes. I have a small greeting room right after the front door, and a more private seance room just beyond it. There is some theatre to the process of meeting with customers... It's not just about speaking to the dead, after all... It's also about speaking with the living. Helping them cope with loss. Giving them a place to weep and grieve. 

Above the shop itself is my small studio apartment. It isn't big, but I've decorated it to my liking... Strings of lights in the corners of the ceilings, flowing fabrics pinned underneath. A well-stocked kitchen, a small dining nook separated from the rest of the room via a shoji devider. A bed placed in the command position... The fung shui of the space is excellent if you ask me..."

"If people pay high prices for charlatans and swindlers, imagine how much they'd pay for the real deal... I have gained a large amount of respect in my circles, so word of my business travels well. If I were more underhanded, I might be able to make more money... promising those vulnerable that they'd be able to get answers from their loved ones if they only come to one more session... but ultimately my goal is to heal those grieving, on this side and the other side... not to make loads of money. Bringing the living and the dead together is what makes me feel invigorated... and keeps the spirits in my dreams away for just a bit longer. My business does well enough for itself with its current size. I don't employ many people, just myself and my trusted friend and financial advisor."

"Most of the money that I earn either gets reinvested into the business or goes to family. I don't currently have children... but I enjoy providing for my mom and dad in their advancing age, and occasionally I'll treat my siblings too. I have a fair amount of money that I can scrounge together for the jobs, between savings and borrowing from the business... but I still need to be thoughtful about how I spend money. One day I'll have more, but I will only do so honestly and without going back on my values."

Ripley's shimmering dream-like form warps and shutters at this question. She struggles to admit that she's tried to ignore the ever-present call of her Ambition following her throughout her life. 

"I was a strange, mute child who endlessly confused doctors. They noted that there was absolutely nothing wrong with me, physically. I had the MRIs and countless tests to prove it. They concluded it must be a learning disability, since no other medical conclusion could be made... but never really understood what I meant when I said that I could speak. My Voice just couldn't be heard here. I spoke effortlessly in my vivid dreams. I met countless people in my dreams, who taught and encouraged me to be curious, to do well in school, to make good friends. My *actual* speech skills did not atrophy like the doctors thought. I was speaking to the departed in my sleep.

"The nightmares only began when I started to gain more freedom and agency in my life. When I started to make my own decisions as an adult. I never thought that I was born for anything. My parents assured me that my dreams were just an active imagination... and I believed them until I hit 15..." Her form shutters again, "I learned that the only way that I would be able to survive these nightmares was to use my newfound agency to help the lost spirits I met in my dreams. My Ambition, then, is a selfish one. I do not wish to be endlessly haunted by spirits whom I have no connection to. I want to bring them to rest, so that I might eventually sleep soundly in a dreamscape that I can call my own. It is no wonder that the Charon the Ferryman does not speak... If he engaged in conversation with those spirits he brought to the underworld, he might start to regret his calling."

"Would I kill for peace? The answer feels like a snake consuming its own tail... I would gain no pleasure from adding another lost spirit to Limbo. But I would do it if I had to... only as a last resort. When we killed that vampire, its spirit did not seem to find its way into my dreams as I thought that it might. Perhaps its spirit was already lost... or condemned to a special abyss for its crimes."

This question would come on the back of a particularly restless night, one where Ripley would wake up in the morning completely unrested and slick with sweat. This is not an enjoyable memory for her to relive, and her speech would cause the images of the memory to flash in the dark clouds of dreams around her. 

"It was the night of my 15th birthday... After a long day of festivities with my brothers and sisters. A milestone, a transition from adolescence to adulthood, with many responsibilities that came with it. A day that I remember fondly, followed by a night that would mark the beginning of my new normal. 

"Up until this point, the figures that I met in my dreams were always kind, and more often than not were actively helpful. I always met them in a large, open field. Colorless and monochrome, except for the occasional sparks of purple that fell from my mouth when I spoke to them. We stood or sat in a small clearing of soft grass, with tall weeds and wildflowers waiving in the wind all around us. The bright-white sun hung high in the sky above our heads, shining a spotlight down upon us, the light sparkling as if it were catching on suspended raindrops. I never thought to venture beyond this circle, as I had friends who would always come to me within the light. For my entire life, I dared not step beyond the clearing, into the tall grasses. I dared not explore beyond this comforting space, with all the friends and teachers that I would ever need...

"But nothing good ever lasts. When I found myself in the dream on that night, there was no one. I was alone. I sat a while, confused. They'd always be here first, as if they were waiting for me to come to them. I thought, dimly, that perhaps I came early. So I sat and started to wait. I spent hours watching the wind blow through the grasses around me. I looked far off into the distance, noticing for the first time that this plain was surrounded by rolling hills that almost seemed to bend upward, like I was at the bottom of some unimaginably large crater. The more that I looked, the more vast the space got. The more that gnawing feeling in the back of my mind became clear. 'What if they've left me?' I thought to myself. 'What if they've moved on with me. I'm an adult now. I shouldn't have imaginary friends. I should be making friends in real life, not these fake relationships that I've made here.' As the rumination took hold, I began to cry. 

"I'm unsure how long I was in this dream for. Hours, certainly, but it felt like it could have been days. I waited and waited for someone to come find me. For someone to wake me up... but there was no one. I was entirely alone..."

"It was after so long that I thought to look up into the sky, spotting the sun hanging there as it always had. But instead of the perfect circle that I had become accustomed to, I saw a chunk taken out of it... I stood, looking up at the sun, perplexed and baffled. This place that seemed to never change, to never age, to never modify itself, save for the people that I met here, was finally doing something different. I took steps toward the edge of my clearing, and watched the dark spot overtake more and more of the sun's area... And when I stepped back to the center, I watched the eclipse reverse its direction. That alone told me what would happen if I left here. That I would not be able to return to this spot of light and sanctuary if I left it, and that I had a choice to make."

"But what choice could I make? There was only one. No one was coming. I had to leave."

"The total eclipse commenced as soon as I stepped out into the tall grass. With it brought, unexpectedly, color to the world. The filter of nostalgia and childhood innocence faded to the truth of the environment I've found myself in. It was then that I learned was never alone, no. I was surrounded on all sides by lumbering bodies, some whole, but most violently killed, blood still dripping from giant gashes and wounds dealt by gruesome car crashes, workplace accidents, and crimes of passion. They were watching and waiting for this day. The day that the kindhearted among them no longer passed into the space of this soul's sanctuary to provide comfort and education. This was a new, mature kind of education. The truth of human death, and the true depth of my task as a psychopomp. Most would not go softly into that gentle night. Most would fight, clammer, grapple, beg, and horrify, just as these spirits in the field began to do, walking toward me as quick as their atrophied and damaged legs could take them."

"To this day, the eclipse has not ended. When I sleep, I see it. I've travelled far, exploring this Limbo for countless miles, escaping the calls of the unresting dead as to find some kind of solace or safety in the endless beyond. The environments have changed, from open plains to dry deserts to desolate cities to decaying tunnels and hallways... But there's nothing here other than me and the dead."

"Needless to say... The rise of 'Liminal Horror' on the internet was not a welcome sight to my waking mind."

Xylia Basilio - "Xylia is one of my closest childhood friends who I've known for as far back as my memories take me. Since both of our families never moved out South San Francisco, we never lost contact, and just grew up with each other through school. We had falling outs here and there, but ultimately our friendship would heal stronger than before. Straight out of high school, Xylia would get accepted by UC Berkeley, getting to study business accounting. I was envious of her, temporarily, since I knew I wouldn't have the privilege of doing something so mundane with my life... As much as I wished that I could have...

"She assured me that it was not an exciting path, but supported me in my desire for a normal life. In fact, it was ultimately her idea to start a business... I had never even thought it possible, with all of my lack of energy and difficulty sleeping... but she offered to be my exclusive financial advisor straight after graduation. She continually pushed me to chase some scraps of normality in my life... even if she knew it would need to be combined with a bit of the weird and spiritual.

"She helped with the business plan and management, and the Marin location happened to fall into our laps after about a year of running the business out of our San Francisco apartment. We've never been closer than we are today, and I thank her every day for her patience with me and my particular quirks..."

Anakh Badesha - "Anakh has been with me since the beginning. Shortly after my nightmares began, I was brought to him as a recommendation from my aunt, who had seen him for readings and advice for many of her worldly problems. Much like my muteness, the new night terrors were undiagnosable, and I had been trying to live with them for about three months... The sleepless nights meant that I was ready for anything to work. I always thought that auntie liked seeing Anakh for his charm alone, and I wasn't particularly hopeful that he'd give me any reprise from my dreams...

"But it turned out... that he was exactly who I needed to see. His practice involved a mix of fortune reading, mostly to get a more intimate understanding of an individual's past and present rather than future, followed by sessions of guided meditation. Sessions were usually about one hour for average clients... but for me, he closed shop for the day. He saw my desperation, and understood the need for an intensive. We delved deep into my mind through meditation, a painful yet empowering process to help me cope with the burden of my newfound internal clarity. He was the first living person to hear my voice. He said it was faint, but during meditation he could hear the soft tones of my voice flickering at the edges of his mind. He was also the first to notice the dark purple sparks of light that occasionally shimmered in my eyes and tongue. He said that he had never come into contact with such an energy before, but that he might've had an understanding of its origin. A few days later, he gave me a name for it: Oblivion. The only force capable of setting a soul free and allowing it to truly rest.

"Today, Anakh is a trusted friend and confidant. We trade services as it fancies us, but we mostly meet for lunch and coffee to trade rumors and good conversation. After this many years, he's gotten fluent at ASL so that he doesn't have to go into a trance in order to communicate with me."

Analí - "A fellow Contractor that I met during my first job. She talks... a lot. Not signing, but actually speaking to me... for a while, I wasn't sure whether she if she even realized that I wasn't able to respond to her verbally. After our mission in San Francisco, she insisted that we have regular phone calls... and honestly, they were much nicer than I thought. I was a little bothered at first, I suppose. Our one-sided phone calls where I was simply a listener... but she began to grow on me. I had friends, but so few of them were so open and genuine in this way. As if I were a living diary for her. And, after a number of weeks... she asked if I could teach her sign language. She picked it up fast, probably due to our shared nature as Contractors. But at that point, our phone calls turned to video chats, and we began to share our concerns with each other.

"It's an excellent friendship. She's been... away for some time now. She told me that she would be leaving the state with her cousin at some point... I can't help but feel a sense of loss. I hope to meet her again one day in the future... for now... the FaceTimes will be enough for me."

"I can't say that my childhood was all that strange... well, maybe it was a little bit hectic and cramped. Two parents, both working class. Three sisters and a brother. I was the third youngest of my siblings, but my two youngest sisters are twins. We lived in a large house in a South San Francisco suburb. My mother and father were Catholic, but they were often working too often to give us much religious education... I usually felt like my parents were barely holding on to life... Constantly overworked and tired... I was raised more by my older brother and sister. We've never really drifted apart, even as my brother moved away from the Bay Area to LA, and my sister is a little further north out in Calistoga with her husband. We still have family phone calls, and try and keep each other updated on our lives...

"I attended Public School. And no, I did not fit in. I was diagnosed with learning disabilities due to my inability to speak, but I was an excellent student in all of my classes. I couldn't reasonably be placed in the special education classes, but I was also not able to easily participate in classroom discussions or activities. I got much better at speed writing on handheld whiteboards... I can't imagine how many Expo markers I've gone through in my life... So no, I was not very popular as a child. I had some close friends, like Xylia, but I was never acquaintances with all that many people. Either people loved me, or they didn't talk to me."

Ripley will give a hollow chuckle... "I wish... Boys tended to stay away from me before, and I stayed away from boys after the nightmares started. Most don't understand, and I barely have the time or energy to explain it to them... If I found someone who would really help me, maybe... But this journey is solitary... Not to mention the fact that I know where people go after they die... It would be hard for me to shake that fear.

"My perfect partner would be one who could join me beyond the veil. One who would be able to step into Limbo with me so that we can face the spirits together. This is clearly not something that I can convince just about anyone to take on... They would have to enter into the task willingly... or be born for the task themselves. Take a minute to imagine cutting the dating pool like that."