Pigs fly v4

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not adapted for mobile Warnings : gore, body horror, allusions to police brutality, mentions of substance abuse/addiction, self-harm, pandemics, illness (text-style: "underline")[Click for a more comprehensive list of warnings. Spoilers abound!] (click: "warnings.")[ - Human experimentation - Death and injury of children - Portrayal of mental illness (not in a very sensitive light) - Ableism - Involuntary self-harm - Tying up/restraining children - Abusive/manipulative parents - Suicide - Chloroform use/ involuntary drugging of someone else ] If you want specific warnings or something I'd be glad to let you know (note that, depending on your choices, you may not encounter all of these) [[Enter]]

Hey honey, thank you so much for agreeing to this! We really owe you one. Now, I know you have a lot of studying to do, so you can just have the kids play inside. A couple of pigs were found around the neighbourhood recently, so don't let them play in the front yard. Now, we've tried a couple of other sitters, but none of them were really a good fit, in terms of family values - you of all people must know how kids these days are! But I've heard great things about how organized and practical you are, so I'm sure we'll get along just fine! (an airy laugh) I've left you a couple of holos for different questions you might have. Thank you so much again, sweetheart. We should be home by 12:30. We're at a conference on the pig issue. Steve just got promoted to Medical Director, you know, so he's going to give a talk - on possible remedies for the Sickness, isn't that just great? (a man's voice, cutting over the previous one) I'm not talking about cures, just solutions to the very last phase - speaking of which, your proposal was very impressive! I'm not technically supposed to tell you yet, but you're a shoo-in for the recommendation! If you get bored, I've gotten a copy of 'Swine Flu and the Sickness : Decades of Evolution', fresh off the rack. Feel free to read it! Don't worry, you'll be back on the team in no time and we can put the past behind us for good! (the woman's voice, interrupting) Thanks again, honey. If you need us, just give me a call! (softer, in the background) Steve, we need to get ready. How do I stop recor- [[there's a holonote labeled 'food']] [[there's a holonote labeled 'playtime']] (if: $play is true and $food is true)[ [[Okay, you kind of know what you're doing]] ]

Now, with all the pigs they found recently in the neighbourhood, I didn't want you to have to cook. (a pause) Not to say that you can't decontaminate food, of course! I'm sure you're a perfectly capable cook! It's just that I didn't want to- I thought it might be better if you didn't have to, you know? Anyway, there's mac 'n cheese in the fridge, and some leftover chicken nuggets. Iris likes to have hot sauce on hers, but don't let her do it herself because she'll make herself sick! Gardner can be picky so cut his nuggets into whatever shapes he wants, but it doesn't need to be art, dear. Help yourself to the pasta in the fridge and any of the snacks on the counter. What else... Oh, right, the kids need to eat one fruit each after dinner - that's their dessert. And no candy or chocolate after seven! The kids should be in bed by nine, but they'll probably fall asleep around ten, so keep an eye on them until then. Iris does tell some untruths about brushing her teeth so make sure you watch them. (set: $food = true) [[Okay. Wait, what did the first note say again? ->there's a holonote on the fridge]]

If the kids are going out to play, make sure they've got their coats, masks, and scarves. You don't really need to worry about Iris outside - she's such a little lady! Gardner is a handful, he likes to try to take off his mask if he feels too warm - you know how little boys can get, they just have to burn off all that energy!- so keep an eye on him! Also, don't let them play in the front yard. There were some pigs seen around here recently. The back is enclosed and sealed, so they can play there! They can play with whatever toys they like, and if you hear them talking about Poppy that's just their imaginary friend, so don't be alarmed! (a laugh) They can watch television until 8 pm, but no news channels or documentaries about the Sickness! Iris also likes to watch medical dramas, so you'll have to check that the episode she wants to watch has no sex, drugs, deviant ideas, violence, or Sickness. It's just really not child friendly, is it? All that rotting flesh and talk of euthanasia - they don't need to get those ideas in their heads! Both of them like watching Scooby Doo : Misadventures, so you can always put that on to stop any brewing fights! Don't let them go into the garage, please! It's half-finished, but we're having some people reinforcing the doors, and they left some tools in there. Honestly, workers these days are just so lazy, is it so hard to take everything home? Anyway, the kids like running around the house, which is fine, although Gardner sometimes slips on the stairs. If either of them get hurt, please call the number on the counter - it goes to Steve's private line at the hospital and you won't need to worry about sanitizing a suit to get them there. The rooms at either ends of the hall upstairs are off limits, to both you and the kids. It's nothing personal, honey - they're our bedroom and Steve's research lab, so he needs them secure for the hospital's sake, you know? The doors are vacuum sealed, but it's probably better to stay away from the lab. (set: $play = true) [[Okay. Wait, what did the first note say again? ->there's a holonote on the fridge]]

To : (+00)1993-20-294 (align: "====>")[Hi Helen! Everything's fine, Iris and Gardner just fell asleep. They miss you guys! I rinsed out the dishes and ran the dishwasher since it was full. (read 10:30pm)] (align: "<====")[Thank you honey! You're so sweet!I miss my little munchkins too! So much! (read 10:34pm) Attachment : PI65e7 Steve got an award for his work on end-stage Sickness! (read 10:47pm)] (align: "====>")[Wow! Congratulations! (read 10:47pm)] (set: $text = true) (if: $exp1 is false)[ [[Now you can guiltlessly explore the house ->Explore a little]] ] (if: $exp1 is true and $text is true)[ [[What now?]] ]

You're in the living room. "Living room" seems too diminutive for a room of its stature. The ceiling towers two stories above, distant enough to give the impression of immense space and wealth, but near enough that the chandelier suspended from it hovers just on the periphery of your vision. There's baby photos, framed in elegant wooden rectangles like all the other pictures. You coo at the cute babies. Iris was adorable, with her little blonde pigtails and blue eyes. Gardner had the chubbiest cheeks, like a little chipmunk storing away nuts, surprisedly staring into the camera with big brown eyes. Wait, doesn't Iris have brown eyes? (live: 13s)[ Oh,yeah, some babies' eyes get darker as they grow older](stop:) (live: 14s)[ (set: $exp1 = true) (if: $text is false)[ [[You should really text Helen - She worries easily->Text Helen and update her]] ] (if: $exp2 is false)[ [[Wander around upstairs for a bit]] ] (if: $exp1 is true and $text is true and $exp2 is true)[ [[What now?]] ] ] (stop:)

You're super bored. You guess you could text someone, but let's be real - you don't really have that many friends. Besides, it'd be weird to just sit around on your phone in this huge empty house, right? (set: $clear = false) (set: $devTheory =false) [[There are pictures and crayons scattered everywhere. It couldn't hurt to pick them up?]] [[Maybe check out the book that Steve was talking about?]]

[[Introduction]] 0. Swine Flu until 2030 0. Emergence of the Sickness 0. Immediate Reactions 0. Climate Change and the Sickness 0. The Blowflies and Contamination 0. The First Stage 0. The Second Stage 0. [[The End-Stage]] 0. The Role of Media and Sensationalism 0. Filling the gaps: The Rise of Judaism and Islam 0. [[Mercy Hospitals : Who gets to decide?]] 0. [[Current Treatments]] 0. [[Theories in Development]] Bonus Chapter : [[The Situation in Elsewhere]] Appendix (if: $clear is false and $devTheory is true)[ [[Well, that's enough for you. Maybe you should clear up the house a bit? ->There are pictures and crayons scattered everywhere. It couldn't hurt to pick them up?]] ] (if: $clear is true and $devTheory is true)[ [[You never knew babysitting could be so boring]] ]

Most people have some kind of sob story related to the Sickness, and I'm no different. From the time I'd known her, my beloved wife, Mandy, had been sick. She had depression and, in times of extreme stress or anxiety, would hurt herself. She walked down the aisle to me with crescent-shaped scars from her new manicure dotting her arms, and the day of her doctoral proposal she had practically flayed her own hands, that's how much she had picked at them. But after our children were born, she kept her nails as short as possible. Sometimes, she would wear fluffy gloves all day, or bandage her fingers, and that's how I would know that it was a bad day. But she thought she was getting better. We all did. And then the Sickness came. Thinking about it now, she must have gotten it from one of her infected autopsy patients; this was before we knew that it could be spread through corpses. I noticed the moon-scratches on her arms, but it was a stressful time for everyone at the hospital, and I knew that she was desperately trying to find a cause for the Sickness, so I didn't intervene. They showed up more and more often, and I noticed other things. She stopped reading, first, and dictated her notes. I didn't think much of it at the time, but it was a sign of her nervous system deteriorating. Then, late one night, while doing an autopsy, she sliced into her own hand. I took her home immediately, worried about the cut being infected, but throughout the car ride, she picked at her little scar. I left her in our room while I went to shower. When I came back, she had peeled off all the skin from her right arm.I panicked, naturally. But I bandaged it and I thought we could go to the hospital the next day, because she seemed to be in shock. Back then, we thought the Sickness killed with gangrene - we didn’t know the other symptoms. Mandy wasn't in shock. Her brain had already been taken over by the Sickness, and her infection had spread to what we now call the end-stage, the stage where the only thing to do is check them in to the nearest Mercy Hospital. I was woken a few hours later by a strangled noise, and when I blinked on the lights, the body beside me was almost completely devoid of skin, a fleshy, pulsing mass of meat with my wife's eyes and hair. I did the only thing I could think to do. I pulled out the pistol I keep by my bedside and shot it till it stopped moving. Even before the searing stench had dissipated, the gangrene had taken over. Looking back, I was lucky. Mandy could've been taken by the sickness in worse ways. I've had patients who gouged out their eyeballs, bit off their own fingers and toes, and a cybernetically-enhanced person who ripped off their own limbs. This is the reality of the Sickness, and it’s a reality that we all live in. [[ Well, that's sad ->Table of contents]]

The End-Stage is the most dangerous and easily identifiable stage of all. This is the part where the parasitoid finally takes over their brain, head nestled by the hypothalamus, as its young feed contently on the cerebrospinal fluid... [[ This is kinda boring ->Table of contents]]

The debate around Mercy hospitals has always existed, even before the Sickness, simply under a different name. Dr. Menchia defines euthanasia as a form of... [[ This is kinda boring ->Table of contents]]

While Elsewhere General is working hard to create a cure, the future seems bleak. Government funding has been trickling down thinner every year... [[ This is kinda boring ->Table of contents]]

Of course, //all// hope is not lost. Doctors and researchers are working tirelessly to try to find a cure, and some of them, notably Elsewhere General's Dr. Steve Miller, Harvard's Dr. Ricardo Vasquez, and biotech pioneer Parvati Reddy, have indeed published promising results. Dr. Miller, who, because of Elsewhere's unique position, has had much more access to and contact with patients, theorizes that it's possible to surgically remove the parasitoids as one would remove tumours. "There may not be much left of the brain, but it can be saved. Modern technology is wonderful. And I can't think of any parent who would rather their child be dead than intellectually disabled or partially paralyzed," said Dr. Miller in an interview with a local news station. (set: $devTheory = true) [[ Wow, that's pretty cool... That must be what he's at the conference to talk about ->Table of contents]]

The current situation in Elsewhere began when an unknown group or groups began planting pig corpses around the city. Till date, they haven't been discovered, although it was for a while believed that Franz Hinderwotzen was involved. Now publicly believed to have been an innocent vigilante, exposing himself to the Sickness to clean up the streets of Elsewhere, Franz suffered a brutal death... [[ You already know all this ->Table of contents]]

The book,'Swine Flu and the Sickness : Decades of Evolution', is lying on the end-table between the couch and the leather recliner. On the lower shelf, along with titles like 'A Collection of Andy Warhol's Unknown Works', and the Bible (the post 2040 version, with a foreword by Pope Francis III), is a tattered copy of "Siblings Without Rivalry: How to Help Your Children Live Together So You Can Live Too". Gardner and Iris barely even bicker. Must be a good book. [[Check out the book]]

You really didn't realize how many of the rooms their drawings were scattered around in. But look at their cute little crayon drawings! Iris seems to be serializing a gripping narrative about dogs and flowers fighting. The flowers have the upper hand with their laserguns, but the dogs can move. You hope you get to see the conclusion - she had to go potty just as the conflict came to a climax. You may never know what happened to Lieutenant Labradog. Gardner spent the whole time drawing his family - 'DAD' stands the tallest, with his extremely long torso, but 'mOM' is a close second, her hair piled up to make her a head taller. 'gaRdneR' is the shortest, and dressed in green, while 'IRIS' is wearing a purple... jumpsuit? They all have brown coloured-in eyes, except for 'DAD' whose eyes are blue. There's also another figure, 'POPPY', standing next to 'IRIS' and 'gaRdneR', on the opposite side of their parents. She has the same dark sticks of hair as 'IRIS' does, but she isn't smiling. This must've been just before Gardner got bored, because her body is just a weird circular scribble of lines, and she doesn't have limbs. He drew the outline of her eyes, but has only half coloured in the blue. You suppose that imaginary friends are the lowest priority. You shuffle the papers into a neat stack and put them on the coffee table. (set: $clear = true) (if: $devTheory is false)[ [[Well that didn't take too long. i guess you could read the book? ->Maybe check out the book that Steve was talking about?]] ] (else:) [ [[You never knew babysitting could be so boring]] ]

//Over fifty years ago, at the beginning of the 21st century, Swine Flu was just another dangerous disease, overshadowed by deadlier ones like Ebola, Zika, and Paranus. But now, as we hurtle towards the 22nd century, it has popped back up, in a horrific new form : the Sickness. This is not a medical text. This is a record of history, detailing all the nuances we know about the Sickness - its mysterious beginnings, the panic it caused, the mercy hospitals, and more. "A must-read for any medical professional, historian, or disease-enthusiast!" - New York Times// [[Wow, that sounds really comprehensive and would be really convenient if you didn't know even the basics about the Sickness and the world you live in!]]

It's fine when you have things to do, like reading and clearing up messes, but now it's just you, trying not to fall asleep for the next couple of hours. What will you do now? [[look up "things to do while bored babysitting"]] [[You guess you could read more of the book]]

Yes, yes it does. [[Read the table of contents ->Table of contents]] [[Reading isn't useful, I'd rather be cleaning up->There are pictures and crayons scattered everywhere. It couldn't hurt to pick them up?]]

"you do this" or "i do this"? general edits alt = "iris placeholder" height = "150" width = "200" align = "left" hspace = 20/> alt = "garn palceholder" height = "300" width = "350" align = "right" hspace = 20/> make text go wide, whole page, run off etc? note - each psycho option has diffrent weights, so try to do some math and make the threshold something like total 20% chance of being psych? change johns name to like steve or someth make kids less annoying 9 -> nine if the back button is going to be there? remove it the things that appear with hover and mouseover are too abrupt standardize position of the next button expand on the cure ending - make it clear iris death is bc her fam doesnt support her make the millers more racist, annoying - wear masks but not pro-relief etc format text messages make the poppy parts more about why whats happening to her is horrible -> maybe u learn that the illness is demonized/ she retained some level of consciousness? MAJOR CHANGES TO HOW THE SICKNESS WORKS BC RN IT IS JUST 'U WILL BECOME MENTAL PATIENT SND IT SCARY' - rn you're not making disabled ppl the villains but you are still sensationalizing their pain. the sickness traps you physically, but the mental deterioration is much slower IS SOMETHING U NOTICED THAT OTHER RESEARCHERS HAVE NOT YET REALLY ACCEPTED

You suppose you'll twiddle your thumbs then (live: 1s)[twiddle (stop:)] (live: 2s)[twiddle (stop:)] (live: 3s)[twiddle (stop:)] (live: 4s)[twiddle (stop:)] (live: 5s)[twiddle (stop:)] (live: 6s)[twiddle (stop:)] (live: 7s)[twiddle (stop:)] (live: 8s)[twiddle (stop:)] (live: 9s)[twiddle (stop:)] (live: 10s)[twiddle (stop:)] (live: 20s) [twiddle is such a weird word (stop:)] (live: 22s)[ [[You guess you could read more of the book]] (stop:)]

As usual, your amazingly personalized search engine, Fauxgle, knows exactly what you need. It gives you the following article : "Top ten fun things to do while your charges are entertaining themselves!" Number 1: (mouseover: "Number 1:")[ [[twiddle your thumbs!->twiddle your thumbs]] ] [["You'd rather read the book"->You guess you could read more of the book]]

You're in the Millers' kitchen. You haven't babysat for them before, but they're well known and respected folk. More importantly, you need to get on Dr. Miller's good side. There should be a holonote from Mrs. Miller here. [[there's a holonote on the fridge]] (set: $play = false) (set: $food = false)

(set: $mom = false) (set: $pig = false) You hear footsteps - one pair slow and one pair faster. They're coming from behind you, so you turn around. Two kids enter the kitchen and stand side-by-side. The girl is taller than her brother - she almost reaches your waist. Her hands are clasped, and her arms are straight, elbows locked in front of her. Her tiny hands are at her waist. "Hi, I'm Iris," she says, not quite making eye contact. Her brother is basically jumping in place, but she unstraightens her arm to jab him in the side, and he stops moving his legs and clasps his hands. Unlike his sister, though, he isn't keeping his hands in one place, bouncing them up and down as he speaks. “I'm Gardner! What's your name? We’re gonna draw and colour and play sooo many games and play tag!” he says excitedly. You feel your heart warm. You weren’t really sure about this – babysitting your boss’s kids? Sounds like a recipe for disaster – but the kids seem extremely sweet. And, well, it doesn’t hurt that they're just about the most adorable kids ever, with their chubby cheeks and wide brown eyes. You’re no monster. [[Don't just stare at them - say something!]]

(set: $mom = true) "We won't tell!" says Gardner. His voice is high when he gets excited, high and loud. It really isn't safe, though. "You'd be the goodest babysitter ever!" says Iris. "All the other ones were so boring!" "Best," you correct, but they ignore you. "Mommy will never know," says Gardner, again, "And Daddy says it's important to get f-esh air" It would be great if the kids liked you. That would increase your chances of meeting Dr. Miller, which increases your chances of him liking you, which is important But the pig Mrs. Miller talked about... (if: $pig is false )[ [[Say "It's dangerous, there's a pig out there"]]] [[Give in - it should be fine if they wear their masks, right?]]

(set: $pig = true) "If there's a pig outside, how did you come in?" asks Iris. Gardner looks like he's about to cry, tears welling up in his eyes and face reddening. You brace yourself for a tantrum, but he just says "Okay," shakily, and lowers his head. You can see the tears falling onto the kitchen floor. "Don't cry, Gardner," says Iris, and she pats his back and gives him a little side-hug. To you, she says, "He loves to play outside. Our other babysitter said he had to go outside every day to be good at football." You aren't really sure how that's connected to anything, but you want him to stop crying. "P-ease?" asks Gardner. He can't really pronounce the 'l' yet. "We have our masks and everything," says Iris. "They're new!" adds Gardner. He seems more hopeful now. The tear tracks on his face glisten in the bright kitchen light. (if: $mom is false) [ [[Say "Your mother said we shouldn't do that"]] ] [[Give in - it should be fine if they wear their masks, right?]]

The kids won't stay healthy with a pig contaminating the streets! Any caretaker worth their salt knows you can't put children in danger like that. [[Say "Your mother said we shouldn't do that"]] [[Say "It's dangerous, there's a pig out there"]]

Well, let's look at it objectively. Mrs. Miller had said there'd been a pig sighting somewhere around the neighbourhood, but from the rack of essential oils lined up next to the spice rack and the general tone of the holos she'd left you, you get the vibe that she's a //tad bit// overprotective. The kind of white suburban mom who unironically shares the posts about Hinderwotzen's innocence being a conspiracy theory. She's probably overreacting. You reluctantly give in, and Iris and Gardner scrabble to get ready. (if: $pig is true)[They cheer up so fast that the tears //had// to have been an act, but they look so excited that it's hard to feel bitter about being played by two kids whose ages don't even add up to half of yours.] They're still struggling with their coats and boots when you're all suited up, so you peer out of the window, checking the streets, and then you check your phone for any pig alerts. (mouseover: "check your phone")[Nothing. It should be okay to go into the front yard, even though Mrs. Miller said not to. [[As long as no one finds out.]] ]

(set: $psycho = 0) (set: $snack = 'no') The decontamination process takes a while, so it's almost 7:00 pm by the time you get back inside. "I'm hungry," whines Iris. "Can we have a snack?" Gardner says, "P-ease?" and looks up at you with big puppy eyes that probably always work on Mrs. Miller. Giving them a snack is probably the best way to get them to like you. But their dinnertime is 8:00, and they might not be hungry if they eat now. [[They can have a snack]] [[Distract them with some crafts]]

What snack will you give them? [[Superboosted YoGo!(strawberry flavour)]] [[Some cut fruit]] [[Chocolate Milk]] [[Bleach]]

"Why are you our babysitter?" asks Iris, as she colours in her drawing. She's taking her time with it, first drawing in pencil, and then colouring it in. Gardner is just drawing his in crayon. "What do you mean?" you ask. "All my friends have young babysitters," she says, kicking her legs in the air. "You work with Dad in the hospital, right? That's what he said." Your heart warms a little at the thought of that - that Dr. Miller's spoken of you at home. That'll be a good foundation to build trust on, trust you need to get a recommendation from him, a recommendation you need to regain your license, a license you need to- Iris is still waiting for an answer. "I need his help to become a doctor," you say. //Again,// you don't say. "Why can't you do it on your own?" asks Gardner. "Because I need a letter of recommendation," you say. "Why?" You are forcibly thrown back to when you were fired from the hospital for... [[ not adhering to "ethical practice standards" -> not following ethical practice standards]] [[ sneaking some of the prescription pills]] [[ getting handsy with an intern]]

They don't look thrilled about it, but they eat the (organic, non-GMO) fruit happily enough. Sucrose or fructose, sugar is sugar, and kids love sweet things. [[They can do some crafts until dinnertime ->Distract them with some crafts]]

You hand each of the kids a glass of chocolate milk (vitamin boosted and low-calorie), and they drink it happily. Iris drinks quietly and slowly, and Gardner gulps the whole thing in one go. "The big hand is on twelve and the small hand is on seven, so that means its seven o'clock," says Gardner. "Wow, that's very smart, Gardner," you say. You have no idea if kids that age should be able to tell the time or not, but flattery is never a bad idea. "But we never get any sweets after seven!" It's actually closer to 7:15, but the analog clock on the wall seems to be slow. "Technically, it's not candy or chocolate, so I think it's okay, just this once," you say, winking at them. Chocolate milk isn't the same as chocolate [[They can do some crafts until dinnertime ->Distract them with some crafts]]

It really wasn't as big of a deal as they made it out to be. It's not like you were kidnapping people and experimenting on them or anything. Most of your subjects wanted to help you. To be a part of a drug trial to cure an incurable disease? To have the chance to be cured, and for free? It's not like they had any better options anyway. So maybe you hadn't gone through official channels, and maybe you hadn't completely disclosed just how untested these drugs were. I mean, you only had so much raw material you could get your hands on. Why waste it on animal trials, right? You could cure the greatest plague humanity has ever faced, if you can just get those fucking equations right. And then you'd gotten sloppy, and gotten caught, and your license was suspended and you were put on probation, as it were. Elsewhere General is as understaffed as any other hospital these days, and you were one of the few trained people willing to work with Sickness patients. They weren't going to throw you away completely, so now you're on the most basic of duties - sharps disposal, disinfection of tools, and other janitorial duties in the Sickness ward. Gross. You need Dr. Miller's recommendation to get back into the labs where you got your chemicals,to stay up to date on new developments; to do your research. But you can't tell these kids that.(set: $bs to 'exp') [[Distract them again, but successfully this time]]

It really wasn't as big of a deal as they made it out to be. It's not like you were stealing from any patients - no one was being hurt, really. And you needed those pills, you really did. Your research hadn't been going great. You knew - you still know - that it works. That it will work, if you can ever get the formulae perfect. And it's important research too. You think you can cure the Sickness, if you can just get those fucking equations right. But anyway, it had been tough, and you needed something for your nerves, something to calm you down. Just something to take the edge off, to let you split your time between hospital duties and your research without those pesky breaks to 'recharge' or 'sleep'. You weren't even addicted! One pill a day, and you could've stopped any time you wanted to, you wouldn't call that addiction. And then you'd gotten sloppy, and gotten caught, and your license was suspended and you were put on probation, as it were. You need Dr. Miller's recommendation to get back in contact with patients, to gather data (non-invasively and with consent, naturally); to do your research. But you can't tell these kids that.(set: $bs to 'pill') [[Distract them again, but successfully this time]]

Yeah right, like the Millers would let you anywhere near their kids if that was the case. They're highly protective of their children, remember? A quickie in the supply closet seems like it would be very firmly in the family-unfriendly category. No, it was for... [[ "not upholding" ethical practice standards -> not following ethical practice standards]] [[ sneaking some of the prescription pills]]

"Well..." you start. Iris is still waiting to know why you're older than her friends' babysitters. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the bottle of glue. "Well, it all started when I was working in the lab," you continue slowly. Surreptitiously, you grab the glue and pour it onto your palms behind your back. "One day, I forgot to wear my mask-" "Oh no!" says Iris, dismayed. "-yeah, it's horrible, right? But I was like you, Gardner." Gardner perks up, now more interested in your story. You rub the glue over your hands, still behind your back, and wait for it to feel dry. "I thought, //Why do I need my mask? It's only a minute to get to the lab, and there's no pigs here//. And then there was a pig! Right outside! The workers didn't get to come get it yet!" Iris puts her hand over her mouth, and Gardner just stares, mouth dropping open a little. This would never happen in real life, but Mrs. Miller was clear - no exposing the kids to the Sickness in people. You're already kind of breaking that rule, so you're on real thin ice. "But I didn't get the Sickness, right?" you say, bringing your hands in front of you and pulling at the glue. "So everything's good," you finish. You're still pulling the thin layer of glue off of your hand. It takes a minute, but then Gardner notices. He screams, stumbling backwards. He pulls Iris too, and they both start screaming, tears running down their faces. You... didn't think this through. "I'm sorry! It's a joke, okay, a joke! I don't have the Sickness, look, here's how I did it!" You show them the glue and how to make it look like dead skin, and then you wash your hands and show them that it's all good, everything's okay, none of us have the Sickness, please stop crying. They do, eventually, after you show them an episode of that Scooby Doo show they like, but that certainly could've gone better. [[Maybe some dinner will make them feel better]]

Here's what's in the fridge : [[Mac n cheese and chicken nuggets]] [[Some penne pasta with julienned carrots and a sprinkling of parmesan cheese]] [[Chicken breast and broccoli]] [[Raw eggs]]

You remember their favourite foods, and they devour it in the minutes it takes you to heat some up for yourself. (if: $snack is not 'no')[They must be full after all that $snack, but they don't seem to have a problem with scraping the dishes clean.] (else:)[They must have been hungry from all that running around outside, poor things. The dishes are scraped clean.] [[You're pretty full yourself]]

(if: $snack is not 'no')[They must be full after all that $snack, and from their wrinkled noses, this isn't really a favourite of theirs, but they try, eating all the bits with cheese and pushing the rest around their plate. Gardner doesn't eat any of the carrots, but Iris makes a half-hearted effort. You wink at them and say, "You don't need to finish all of it". They cheer. You're winning best babysitter.] (else:)[They must have been hungry from all that running around outside, poor things.From their wrinkled noses, this isn't really a favourite of theirs, but the dishes are scraped clean.] [[You're pretty full yourself]]

Iris does her dishes on her own, rinsing them and then putting them into the dishwasher, but Gardner just hands you his plate. He can barely reach the sink, so it makes sense. It's just that something about the way he hands it off to you that rankles, a little. "Make sure you wash your hands," you say. Iris goes first, again, and when she's done she helps Gardner, waving her hand under the traditional motion-activated soap dispenser that the Millers have instead of the more conventional voice-activated kind. You take a little longer to wipe down the table than strictly necessary, but Mrs. Miller seems like the kind of person who would appreciate that. Maybe the kind of person who'd mention it to her husband, even. You go to the living room. The kids are sitting in front of the TV, and they have the channel guide open. "Can we watch a football game?" asks Gardner. "No, it's almost bedtime," you say, trying to be sympathetic. "Can we watch the show that only comes at night-" "-no, Iri-" "-AND THEY ALL CRY AND," here, Iris's voice drops to a whisper, "there's a lot of kissing?" No! What the fuck? "No! What the- What show even is that?" you say, because, let's face it, you really aren't that good with kids. Iris looks up at you, wide-eyes starting to gloss over. "No, Iris, I'm sorry, I'm not mad -" Your attempts at cajoling are fairly succesful, and, after you make a fun game out of brushing their teeth, the kids go to bed with little protest (mouseover: "little protest")[(You suspect that they're going to be watching something under their covers)]. (set: $text = false) (set: $exp1 = false) (set: $exp2 = false) What now? [[Text Helen and update her]] [[Explore a little]] [[Sneak upstairs and kill the kids]]

You open the book to the most interesting chapter - the one about the theories being developed - but you can't stay focused on the words. Instead, you think about your research - the only think you've really thought about in the past few years. How much longer until you perfect it? (if: $bs is 'exp')[ In your initial trials, you'd noticed that the parasitoid //was// dying - the only problem was, it was being starved to death, because the cerebrospinal fluid was so diminished by the chemicals you used. That also meant that most of your patients died before you could kill their parasitoid completely.] (else:)[You've done your homework, you've conducted innumerable digital simulations (and you had to code basically half the simulations too). Your compound, as it is, would probably diminish the cerebrospinal fluid so much that it would eventually starve the parasitoid. The thing is, it would kill the patient first. ] That's when you'd come up with the other theory - the idea of not killing, but neutralizing the parasitoid. Rewiring the brain chemistry to work around it. Unfortunately, you'd been suspended before you had a real chance to look into it. It should be simple enough to modify your drugs to be //less// lethal. Well. Simple if you have access to a state-of-the-art medical research facility and complete freedom to order any chemicals you want. Things you could definitely get if Dr. Miller writes you a recommendation. You come back to reality when you hear a hesitant voice. "Can you please come upstairs?" asks Iris timidly. Her hair is a mess, and she looks a little scared [[Say "What is it kiddo?" -> come get yall son]] [[Say "Shouldn't you be in bed, kid?" -> come get yall son]]

"Gardner's- he's being weird! I think he's sick!" Iris goes from whining to wailing, and you drop the book on the couch and rush to her side, trying to calm her down. "What happened? What do you mean he's sick?" you ask. "He- He's pulling skin off! Just like you did today!" she cries. Your mouth twists downwards - they haven't forgotten it, then. "Don't worry kid," you say. You hadn't seen the glue bottle while cleaning up. "He's probably doing the same thing I did, okay? I'll ask him to stop." Almost immediately, she goes from tearful and worried to annoyed. "He's such a gross boy!" she says, puffing her cheeks. Her eyelids droop, but she determinedly stays awake. You go up the stairs, Iris tagging along behind you. Gardner is sitting up in his bed - you can see his silhouette in the dark. You don't turn on the light, because that would wake the kids up even more. You //do// try to sound stern. "Gardner, you need to go to bed, okay? It's too late for jokes." He doesn't say anything, but you think you hear him sniff. Oh dear. These kids are honestly so hard to deal with. You didn't even say anything disapproving this time. Still in the dark, you edge your way towards Gardner's bed and sit beside him gingerly. You're not really good at this, but you've also had to comfort them, like, thrice today, so who cares, at this point? You do. You care, and maybe not just because you need to get into Dr. Miller's good books. Mostly because of that, but not completely. "Gardner..." You reach out to pat him gently, maybe pull him into a hug, but your hand touches something wet and warm. Oh gross, did he wet the bed? "Iris, honey, can you turn on the light please?" you ask. She does. [[Oh, god]]

(set: $iris = false) (set: $gardner = false) It isn't glue. There's a scream. It might be Iris. It might be you. You slap your hand over Iris's mouth and pull her out of the room, into the hallway. Both of you stand there, you with your back to the wall, and Iris leaning heavily against your legs. You try to take shallow breaths, but there's no use. You've been exposed already. Oh, god. You have to do something. You have to do something. Fix this, oh god, you have to fix this, you're the only adult in the house. What should you do first? [[Take care of Iris]] [[Take care of Gardner]]

(set: $iris = true) (if: $gardner is false) [Iris is sticking to you, pressed up against your leg like she's been glued to it. She's shaking, and her hands are tightly clamped over her mouth and nose, as though that'll offer her any protection whatsoever from the Sickness. There's really no helping the two of you if you've already gotten it. The best you can do is... ] (else:)[Iris is waiting downstairs with her mask on, just like you asked her to. As you come down, knife still in hand, she runs up and clamps her hands around your waist. ] [[Hide her in the least contaminated place you can find]] [[Kill her]]

(set: $gardner = true) (if: $iris is true )[You hurry up the stairs and pause for a moment on the landing. It's just to catch your breath. Nothing to do with what you're about to see in the room. Nothing to do with how your life is now in shambles. Nothing to do w- Stop. Not now.] (else:)[Okay. Okay. "Iris, please go wait downstairs. Put your mask on. Everything's going to be fine," you say, and your voice only quivers a little. She runs down the stairs without a word. You can hear her muffled sobs getting fainter and fainter.] You peer into the room, heart pounding in your ears. He's still sitting there, staring into space, scratching long, deep cuts into himself. Your heart sinks. He's just a kid. You've seen kids taken by the Sickness before.(if: $bs is 'exp')[You've even treated some of them in your cure trials.] It never get easier, seeing such tiny hands wreak such immense pain. There's really only two things you can do. [[Restrain him]] [[Kill him]]

The living room is almost equidistant from where both the children are. You drop gracelessly onto the couch and allow yourself to //feel//. This was supposed to be your key to getting back into the hospital. This was supposed to be easy, just one night babysitting two little kids, this was supposed to fix everything. Everythings gone to shit, there's nothing left you can do to salvage the dregs of this situation, is there? Now Gardner is probably going to die, painfully, Iris might too, and worst of all, it'll have all been for nothing. Your formula will die when you do, destitute and alone after being blacklisted from medicine, or perhaps in jail, if Dr. Miller presses charges which he most definitely will if he doesn't kill you himself, and- and- And there's nothing you can do about it. Or is there? You can't really look at your watch through the suit, and your phone is in your inside pocket. You glance at the living room clock. It says that it's just past midnight. The Millers are supposed to come back at 12:30. What can you do? [[Run away]] [[Try to cure Gardner]]

There isn't really much to see up here. The second floor takes up maybe two-thirds of the area of the rest of the house. There are four doors - one must lead to a guest bedroom, because Iris and Gardner share a room. Two of the doors, the ones on the extreme ends of the hall, are locked, just like Mrs. Miller said they would be. You're kind of tempted to try to look at Dr. Miller's research. Darn, the door is locked tight. There's a combination pad on it, and knowing how much the Millers love their kids, it's probably hermetically sealed or something. Yeah, it's a little weird that they have a lab in their house. Maybe you should leave it alone. (set: $exp2 = true) (if: $text is false)[ [[You should really text Helen - She worries easily->Text Helen and update her]] ] (if: $exp1 is true and $text is true and $exp2 is true)[ [[What now?]] ]

That really isn't an option, unless you want to leave this life behind completely, and you don't. You need the particular privileges that being a doctor affords you, and running away would mean, at best, you'd need to go through medical school all over again. Think of all the people who would die while you re-memorized the bones of the skull. No, you're //this// close. You just need that last piece to click into place. Besides, you kind of like Gardner. He's sweet, in the obnoxious way little kids can be. You've never been the reason someone gotten the Sickness before. He had - //has// his whole life ahead of him. [[So the only thing you can do... ->Try to cure Gardner]]

You remember the formulae - of course you do, you spend all your free time pouring over them and trying to perfect them. It does take some specialized equipment and rarer chemical compounds to make it, but Dr. Miller is sure to have them in his lab. You've been trying to get this formula right for almost your entire career. You've gone to lengths that would be unimaginable to the weak-willed, the unmotivated. But this time, this time will be different. This time you'll get it right, because if you don't, you might die. And you don't want to die. You go upstairs, grabbing your trusty kitchen knife on the way.The door of the lab looms before you. If you can get in, you can probably fix this mess. (mouseover-append: "your trusty kitchen knife")[ (well, it's not really yours, but you two have been through so much together!)] [[Inspect the door]]

The first thing you notice is just how incongruous the door is. The Millers have a nice house, a fancy house, even, and the doors are all mahogany. This door is metal, not shiny enough to be new, but definitely well maintained. You wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Miller gives this door the same shining she gives all her other stainless-steel appliances every other week. The door looks hermetically sealed, like the ones in the hospital. It's got a keypad instead of a regular lock, and you aren't at all surprised. Dr. Miller is extremely wealthy. It makes sense that he'd spend as much as he needed to get the highest tier of safety possible. It still doesn't make sense that they'd have the lab inside the house, but there must be a reason. After all, this lab has to be at least a couple of years old - if it was built during the riots, when every garden shed was smashed under suspicions of housing pig corpses, no external lab would have been safe. You won't be able to break the seal or the frame - being hermetically sealed, it has to be of the highest quality. You put your ear to the keypad and press each button in order, hoping to maybe be able to hear the tumblers of the lock clicking. Nothing, obviously. This isn't a normal lock - it probably can't be picked. You're about to pull away, but then there's a weird moan - faint, but you're definitely not imagining it. At first, you think it might be Gardner, but it sounds like it's coming from inside the room. Well, that really doesn't change anything for you; you need to get in no matter what. If there's a pig in there that Dr. Miller happened to be experimenting on, well, that just can't be helped. How will you open the door? [[Try to break it down with your shoulder, or kick it ]] [[Look around the house for something to help you open it ]]

You know there won't be anything to help you up here - the Millers would have kept any powerful tools out of reach of their kids. (live: 5s)[The garage! (stop:)] (live: 7s)[ Mrs. Miller said that the workers had left some tools there. Perhaps there's something you could use? You hurry to the garage. You're also completely inexperienced with any equipment that can't be found in a biochemical lab, so you should probably learn what would be useful. A quick Fauxgle search should do the trick. You pause at the foot of the stairs to maneuver your phone out of your suit with as little exposure to the air as you can manage. (link-reveal: "You have a message from Mrs. Miller.")[ (align: "<=====")[ Hi honey, just checking in. Steve and I might be home a little late, traffic is a mess. Expect us back by 1 AM. (read 12:15am)] You feel your shoulders relax a bit. That... gives you more time. ] You look up 'house tools to cut locks' while looking for the garage door, and hope it doesn't get you put on any watchlists. A list of tools, with pictures, pops up. Modern technology is so useful. You find the garage, and Mrs. Miller was right - it looks too dangerous for kids. It probably would've been safer for these particular kids to have played inside, but what's done is done. You compare the tools neatly stacked in one corner of the garage to the pictures on the phone. There's only one that looks like it's the same thing - a blowtorch. The website warns that it's a dangerous tool to use. If you mess up, the tanks of oxygen and acetylene used to power the torch could explode. There's really no coming back from blowing up the Millers' house. But you're no idiot. Yes, you did something dumb, but, if anything, you're in this situation because you're a genius. You're so smart that you've made a breakthrough in modern science, and you only got in this mess because you wanted to perfect it and share it, and so what if that meant some minor (if: $bs is 'exp')["unethical" experimentation](else:)[drug "abuse"]? But that isn't the point. The point is, as you lug the tanks and the wires and the torch itself back up the stairs, you're also reading, and more importantly, understanding, a manual that you found online. At the bottom of the stairs, you pause. You need all your hands to carry things up the stairs, but you also don't want to waste time putting your phone back inside. Whatever. You're confident that you know how to use the torch. You leave the phone on the couch and loop the wires around your neck so you can carry everything in one trip. The clock in the living room says 12:20. The torch should be able to cut through the door, but the fastest way to open it would be to somehow cut through the bolts of the lock, the things that actually keep the door shut. The lock is electric, but cutting the power would just keep the door locked, so this is probably the best way - cutting through maybe half the door, and then cutting through the latch itself. The door should then be open, right? You hope you've got the instructions right, and get to it. There'd been a lighter next to the tools, and you'd brought it too. When you light the flame, it's way brighter than you expected. You adjust what you think are the right knobs and start cutting. When you shoot oxygen at the metal, sparks fly everywhere. The sound of metal melting is staticky, and would mask the sound of someone sneaking up behind you. The bright light that you're squinting against, sans safety goggles, would make you unable to defend yourself against whoever is behind you. You suddenly feel a lot more frightened, but you whirl around, the torch still burning in your hand, and there's no one there. Okay, you're fine, okay. It takes you a while, but you manage to melt a hole through to the latch. The wires of the door are irreversably ruined. If you can't make this cure and the Millers don't kill you for what you did to their children, you're definitely going to go to jail for property damage. //Click!// You've cut through the latch. The metal where you'd been cutting is red-hot, but you nudge the door with your foot and it moves. Suddenly, you wish you had your knife. You decide not to switch the torch off. Just... just in case. You push the door open and take a careful step into the lab. [[Holy hell]] (stop:)]

The first thing you notice is that it's a bad lab. Oh, it has the tables with microscopes and the shelves with bottles of chemicals, and the door that swings shut after you enter, but pushed to one corner is a bed, and on that bed is the most emaciated person you've ever seen. They're pretty short, but they've been tied to the bed in what's considered the safest position for a victim of the Sickness - limbs spread so they can't use them against each other, cushioned restraints every fifty centimetres or so to ensure they don't hurt themselves by colliding with the bed or walls. Nevertheless, the girl - you assume it's a girl, since, on closer inspection, her hair is in an extremely messy braid, tied off with a sparkly pink scrunchie - has a light bruise on her face. She's wearing a straitjacket, although it isn't actually strapped up, jeans, and fluffy pink socks. Her face is gaunt, and you take a step closer, almost involuntarily. She turns her head to you. Her skin is pale, stretched tight over her bones.Her cheeks are hollow, and her hair is thin and dark. Her eyes are milky - is she blind? There's an intensity to them that scares you. When she snarls, trying in vain to break her wrist against the soft restraints, her teeth look surprisingly well cared for. You stand there, looking at her, door blocking any sort of quick escape, torch still in hand, and you're enormously glad she's tied up. You're here on a mission. You head to the table, with the chrome equipment and bunsen burners and notebooks, and you fear you may have forgotten all the equations that brought you here. You switch off your torch, but just the knob. All you need to do is twist it and spark a flame, and you're not defenseless anymore. As you're writing down the equations, hoping that maybe the millionth time will be the charm, that you'll figure out your mistake, you hear a noise. You turn to the girl, who seems to be looking at you, even though she isn't. She opens her mouth and makes an inhuman wail, one that somehow breaks your heart and sets you on edge simultaneously. In her twisting and flailing, something falls off of the bed. It's a teddy bear. [[what...->wtf]] [[what the hell...->wtf]] [[what the fuck...->wtf]]

Remember what you were saying just a little while ago about being smart? You retract that. You're can't believe you didn't see this earlier. The imaginary friend. The picture of Iris that wasn't actually Iris. The obsession with the Sickness, specifically the End-Stage. Poppy Miller stares at you with sightless eyes and tries to break her knee this time, trying to twist it around so she can put weight on it when it's in an awkward position and snap it. You should stop her, but you don't. You're still processing. What does this mean for you? It doesn't matter if you find the cure, because it looks like Poppy's been this way for years. You don't think she can be cured, at this point. She screams again, wailing and twisting against the straps. The room must've been soundproofed. A tear rolls from the corner to her eye to just above her ear, and you watch it disappear into her hair. What will you do now?(set: $mercy = true) [[Put her out of her misery]] [[Try to keep working on the cure]]

(set: $psycho += 2) You have to, it's the only way, you can't have any witnesses- but that doesn't make any sense. Iris is fine, for now - she doesn't have the Sickness(yet), and killing her is just wrong. Besides, Dr. Miller loves her; you can't kill her in cold blood! She's just a kid, and this is your fault anyway. You loosen your grip on her shoulder and stop reaching for the bat that's by the top of the stairs. [[Hide her in the least contaminated place you can find]]

No! You aren't going to do that! You're not a monster, you're definitely not going to take the baseball bat propped against the upstairs banister(the one the Millers reserve for robbers, if Gardner has his facts right), go to their rooms, and bash their heads in, why would you even think that! Maybe you need a nap. The kids must have really worn your patience thinner than you'd thought. You can't wait to go back home and collapse. (set: $psycho+=1) But for now... [[Text Helen and update her]] [[Explore a little]]

(set: $psycho +=1) You have to, he's suffering so badly, he's in pain. You can't leave him to his gruesome fate, to die at his own hands. You want to do it. You almost would, you think about the kitchen and the knives, and the emergency aspirin in the cupboard over the bathroom sink. You think about how it could be painless for him. You think about all this in the seconds before you notice the tears on Gardner's small, blank face, dripping down his cheeks even as he continues to scratch. Tears are an involuntary reaction to pain. You can't do it. [[Restrain him]]

This... this is inhumane. The Millers might love their daughter, but you can see the scars on Poppy's face that presumably continue below the straitjacket. She doesn't deserve this, she shouldn't be living this cruel, drawn out life. You think about all the people you've seen with the Sickness. None of them lasted longer than seven months, and month seven was always full of tearful requests from relatives and friends for a Mercy hospital. That's where Poppy should be - somewhere where she won't be in pain, where she won't be trying to break her own bones. You could help her. If only there was a pillow in here. That would've made your decision easier; a pillow over the face is nothing, and you've seen it, done it for other patients. Painless and quick, just like they deserve. You didn't bring your kitchen knife either - that could've been quick too. The best you have in here is the torch. You light it and go to the bed, pulling the tanks with you. She doesn't notice you until you're right next to the bed. Then she looks at you, and cries out as she pulls against the straps that are stopping her from breaking her knees. She looks at you. Right at you, even with those blank eyes. "Help," she mouths, her voice barely a whisper behind it. She's been this way for //years//, and she can still talk? What has Dr. Miller - no, he's no doctor - what has Steve been dosing her with? You adjust your mask and suit, pinch them closed tighter, and bend down next to her. Her eyes don't track you, but she doesn't have that dazed look that you see in the wards either. "Poppy? Poppy Miller?" "Me," she sobs, still barely audible. "I'm Poppy." She's a child. She's been locked away for years. She can hardly give informed consent. Still, the disability rights march that Cass had dragged you to once, before you guys stopped talking, rings in your mind. "I'm a doctor," you lie. "How can I help you? "Hurts. Floaty but it hurts." So she's still feeling pain, even while presumably drugged to the nines. "I can get you more pain medicine," you try. There has to be some anesthesia in here, or- "No!" Her voice goes above a whisper for the first time, and her face contorts with something like fear. "Okay, okay, no medicine." you soothe. You aren't good with kids, but you have years of practice talking to people about to die. "I'm going to make it stop hurting, Poppy. I promise." The blowtorch in your hand is still hot. What are you doing? You can't use this on her. That would - it should be painless. You step back, bumping into the tanks. Can you spare the time to run downstairs and grab a knife? Would an overdose of aspirin be better? There's not enough time. You could always turn the heat up, go straight for her heart? Maybe there's a scalpel in here. You turn to look, still pointing the torch upwards, away from the both of you. Maybe if- (set: $mercy = false) [[The door bursts open and a deep voice says "Step away from her" ->theyre baack]]

As you look, you realize that her mouth is ungagged. You tighten your mask and suit and move over to the bed. She looks at you. Right at you, even with those blank eyes. "Help," she mouths, her voice barely a whisper behind it. She's been this way for //years//, and she can still talk? What has Dr. Miller - no, he's no doctor - what has Steve been dosing her with? You bend down next to her. Her eyes don't track you, but she doesn't have that dazed look that you see in the wards either. "Poppy? Poppy Miller?" "Me," she sobs, still barely audible. "I'm Poppy." Her lips look waxy - almost like they've been chapstick-ed, but more importantly, they're whole. She's been ungagged for at least as long as you've been here, and she hasn't tried to bite herself. (if: $bs is 'exp')[You remember that boy from the trials. He hadn't gotten too bad either. It must be something to do with age...] You dash back to the table, looking for whatever Steve's been using on his daughter. If you can keep Gardner in the same kind of stasis for a little while longer... "I'll come back for you," you promise Poppy. She doesn't respond. If Steve's been using any prepared meds, they aren't in here. You remember the locked bedroom and groan. There's no time to melt another lock. Back to plan A. You sort through the chemicals, pulling out the ones you'll need. Amazingly, almost everything's here, probably because your formula is based off of the existing research on curing the Sickness, and the compounds that have already been explored. There's some things missing, but you could probably make them from the other stuff, with enough time. Poppy cries out again. You wonder if Gardner is doing the same. You grab a pen and start scribbling out calculations, trying to modify your equations to both be less lethal and to use the equipment you have. There isn't even an NMR spectrometer in here. Honestly, is Steve even serious about curing his daughter? She makes another noise, a high pitched whine that breaks off, and you have to look. She might be hurt, after all. She looks okay, but she's still trying to break her knee, and if she keeps going at this pace, she might soon have enough leeway to actually do it. You take an involuntary step forward. Should you tie her up tighter? You start towards her. [[The door bursts open and a deep voice says "Step away from her" ->theyre baack]]

Steve and Helen Miller stand in the doorway, in their formal clothes, with their masks on. Steve's suit jacket is missing, and Mrs. Miller's hair looks ike it might have once been a tasteful bun. Steve is holding a gun. This can't be happening. You were supposed to have enough time, this can't be real. "I told you not to let them play in the yard," says Helen. Her voice is steely, but you can see the tears threatening to mess up her mascara. What exactly are your chances of getting out of this alive? You've infected at least one of their kids, and discovered their illegal lab and infected child. You hear the gun click. You need to buy some time. [[Ask how they got Iris and Gardner to keep Poppy a secret]] [[Ask how far Steve has gotten with the cure]] [[Ask them why they kept her in the house]]

You'll need to tie him up, make it so he can't hurt himself. You've seen them do this in the hospital, when they run out of straitjackets. You wish you could have a straitjacket now. They're cruel, but effective, and the time it takes you to build a nest of soft things around Gardner could be all he needs to do some fatal damage to himself. You race down to the kitchen to grab a knife.Luckily for you, the bedroom is full of soft things. On your way back up to the kids' room, the sharpest kitchen knife in hand, you eye the bat consideringly. But one thing at a time. He's been scratching himself, so having his hands restrained is the most important part. You grab the pillows and slit them open at the top, and then shove each of Gardner's bleeding hands into one. You tie them off at the top with a strip of the bedsheet. Gardner's wounds are still open - there's no doubt he'll come down with an infection - but your first priority is to stop him from creating new wounds. Hands have been neutralized, but the mouth is the next most destructive part of the body. You tear another strip from the bedsheet and use it to gag him. You'd actually learnt this technique from Dr. Miller - if you do it just right, the patient can't even bite their tongue. Next is the feet. Ideally, you'd treat them the same as the hands - you never know how dextrous a patient is until you find them stabbing themselves with a scalpel from the nearby table. But there aren't enough pillows here, so you scramble through the drawers. Aha! Socks! They're probably Iris's, considering that they're covered in Disney princesses, but it's not like Gardner can complain! About anything. Ever again. Stop, you don't have time for this. With his feet in five pairs of socks, all that's left is to ensure he can't give himself a fracture or a concussion. He's too short to tie each of his limbs to a bedpost, like they do at the hospital. You'll make do and just hope being able to bring his legs together doesn't give him enough leverage to slip the ties. He's still trying to keep scratching. The pale blue pillowcase is streaked with blood, and bits of fluff are caught on the edges of some of his wounds. The space under his bed is occupied by a box of toys and toy chest and some old craft projects. After you position the wide strip of cloth, you kick them out and slide down below the bed. A stray pipecleaner digs into your ribs. You knot the sheet tightly and do it again. One wide strip over the chest, one over the knees. That should keep him out of harm's way. You run into the bathroom and grab the antiseptic. All you can do is spray his injuries and pray. (if: $iris is true)[ [[Take a second to break down]] ] (else:)[[[Besides, there's another kid you need to take care of->Take care of Iris]]]

Between the three of you, the entire house is probably contaminated by now - where can you take her? There's probably a closet somewhere, maybe the pantry, something in the house that won't be contaminated... The yard! The purifier is dubious, but it's the best you have, and you haven't opened the back door since you came back in, so it's probably safe. "Put on your suit," you tell Iris. You should probably do the same. The suit is supposed to be easy to put on in a hurry, but your hands are shaking, and it takes you longer than necessary. Iris can't finish sealing her suit, and you do it for her. "Is - is Gardner going to die?" she asks. "No. None of us are going to die, Iris. I'll fix this." She starts to cry again. You tamp down the irritation that flares in you. //Be compassionate//, you think. //She's just a kid// "Look, just wait in the back yard. You'll be safe there. I'll make Gardner all better, and then we can come back inside and go to bed, okay?" She looks uncertain. "Why in the back yard?" You don't have time to explain the mechanics of microscopic airborne parasitoids to her. "Um, the bad smell scares away the pig germs," you say. She seems to accept it. You walk her to the back yard. There's nothing in there for her to hurt herself with, except maybe the actual fence and the structures holding up the SafePlay. You point her to the sheaf of dawings they'd made earlier, and stoop to the ground to grab a fistful of crayons. "Just draw something cool while I fix this, okay?" She hesitates, but goes into the backyard with the paper and crayons. You can't give her any food from inside - that could be contaminated too. You smile at her, and then, just in case, you lock the door. (if: $gardner is true)[ [[Take a second to break down]] ] (else:)[ You wish you could stay, but there's another kid upstairs who needs your help [[Take care of Gardner]] ]

(if: $mercy is false)[You're still holding the blowtorch. In desperation, you throw it at the bed. It catches instantly. Helen screams and runs toward it. She looks like she's considering trying to pat it out with her bare hands, but the torch is spinning on the floor like the worlds deadliest top. You kind of... You should pick it up. You reach down, and grab it. Something smells horrible. Helen screams louder. Oh. You'd grabbed it by the fire end. That's bad, right? Fire... fire hurts? No, fire is warm. You'd like to be warm. You put the flame on your arms. Ah, warm.] (else:)[If you're going down, you're taking this whole house with you.You throw yourself to the table where you know you left the lighter. The Millers are caught off guard, and you grab the lighter and try to get the wood to catch. It's taking too long! You need an accelerant... You've got it! If you set your t-shirt on fire, it'll burn hotter than the lighter would, and that'll make the wood catch. You do that, and then lay down carefully. Maybe set a little more on fire, just in case some of the other ones go out?] "What the-" It's that man, Dr. Steve. he's important... oh right, you'd wanted to impress him. no big deal. he probably won't kill you. even if he does, it sounds kind of ...nice? or not bad, at least? the room smells very bad. you close your eyes, but you can still hear things. "Oh god, that's disgusting" "No, Helen. It's perfect." perfect? you want things to be perfect. things would be perfect if the house burned down. you try to get your pants to catch fire too. how warm it'll be! you can see the doctor turn to helen. his eyes are shining, reflecting the fire you are. "It means this didn't happen in vain," he says "Gardne-" "Helen." the doctor looks at some papers on the desk, were they important? and then at you. "We have a cure, and a test subject. We have hope." you could be warmer. you reach for the fire again [[end]]

thanks for reading! (There are five-ish endings, in case you were curious.) -Ankita

You hand each of the kids a tube of YoGo! from your bag (you came prepared), and they slurp it happily. Iris is methodical, starting from the bottom and alternating which hand she uses to squeeze the stuff upwards. Gardner just eats the whole thing in one go. "The big hand is on twelve and the small hand is on seven, so that means its seven o'clock," says Gardner. "Wow, that's very smart, Gardner," you say. You have no idea if kids that age should be able to tell the time or not, but flattery is never a bad idea. "But we never get any sweets after seven!" It's actually closer to 7:15, but the analog clock on the wall seems to be slow. "Technically, it's not candy or chocolate, so I think it's okay, just this once," you say, winking at them. "Aaaand yogurt is healthy! Right?" asks Iris. You wouldn't call YoGo! yogurt. Imitation yogurt-like substance, perhaps. But that's not a conversation to have with kids whose fridge is stocked with organic fruit and vitamin-boosted chocolate milk, especially considering how focused their mother is on eating healthy. You shake yourself out of your thoughts. [[They can do some crafts until dinnertime ->Distract them with some crafts]]

(set: $psycho+= 0.5) Yeah, that sounds great! Maybe with some strawberry syrup to make it go down easier? Garnish with whipped cream? Hilarious. What's wrong with you? What snack will you give them, for real? [[Superboosted YoGo!(strawberry flavour)]] [[Some cut fruit]] [[Chocolate Milk]]

(set: $psycho+=0.5)Hmmm. How about no? I don't know what's going through your mind right now, but cut it out. Eggs are just the first thing you saw. What else could you feed them? [[Mac n cheese and chicken nuggets]] [[Some penne pasta with julienned carrots and a sprinkling of parmesan cheese]] [[Chicken breast and broccoli]]

(if: $snack is not 'no')[ You cut it up into pieces for them, after you microwave it. They must be full after all that $snack, and from their wrinkled noses, this isn't really a favourite of theirs, but they try, eating all the seared bits of chicken and pushing the rest around their plate. Gardner doesn't eat any of the brocolli, but Iris makes a half-hearted effort. You wink at them and say, "You don't need to finish all of it". They cheer. You're winning best babysitter.] (else:)[They must have been hungry from all that running around outside, poor things.From their wrinkled noses, this isn't really a favourite of theirs, but the dishes are scraped clean.] [[You're pretty full yourself]]

You take a few steps back, so you can get a running start, but then pause. Slamming your shoulder into a hermetically sealed door will only give you a bruise - maybe even a dislocated shoulder. It's how one of the first few Sickness patients at Elsewhere General self-deteriorated. They started strapping them down after that. [[If you try hard enough you can scratch out the lock with your fingernails]] [[You guess you'll just find some tools or something->Look around the house for something to help you open it ]]

You can't imagine that the kids knew the whole truth, but why else would they pretend that Poppy is their imaginary friend? "How did you get Iris and Gardner in on this?" you ask. "It's simple enough to make a child think that they're imagining things," says Steve. Ah. Brainwashing children. What caring parents. Helen seems to know what you're thinking, and she raises her chin defensively. "We didn't hurt them. We just told them they were mistaken, that they never had a sister called Poppy. Iris forgot soon enough, but Gardner still remembers something." So gaslighting then. Even better. "They were so young when Poppy fell ill," says Steve softly. "Three and two," murmurs Helen, an almost-smile on her lips. Gardner is now five. "You kept her in here for three years?!" you yelp. That was a mistake. Their attention is brought back to what you've discovered, what you've done. "You. You got our son sick," hisses Steve. There's a pause, almost as though they're waiting, hoping you'll deny it, hoping you'll tell them about the fun game of pretent-Gardner-has-the-Sickness you all played. You remain silent. Steve grits his teeth and raises the gun again. (if: $bs is 'exp' and $mercy is true)[ [[Say "Please, I'm sorry! It was an accident!" ->You cure]] [[Say "I have a cure!" ->You cure]] (if: $psycho >= 5)[ [[Set the house on fire]] ] ](else:)[ [[Say "Please, I'm sorry! It was an accident!" ->You die]] [[Say "I have a cure!" ->You die]] (if: $psycho >= 4)[ [[Set the house on fire]] ] ]

You know your solution is the closest anyone's ever gotten to curing the Sickness, and Steve's lab is just //so// inadequate, and so the first that pops into your mind when faced with a gun is probably something that'll get you shot quicker. "How much progress have you made, exactly, on curing her?" you ask. Instead of shooting you for your gall, Steve winces. "Yeah, that's what I thought. With the equipment you're using, it's no wonder," you add recklessly. "Shut up," says Helen, and you remember that they were about to kill you. Well, there's really nothing you can do about that. "Look, all I'm saying is, you could use some help. I could help you. We could save Poppy and Gardner and so many more people." Poppy cries out, and you can see their eyes harden. Steve grits his teeth and adjusts his grip on the gun. (if: $bs is 'exp' and $mercy is true)[ [[Say "Please. It was an accident, and I'm sorry! I'll help you cure them" ->You cure]] [[Say "I have the formulae, they're almost completely worked out!" ->You cure]] (if: $psycho >= 5)[ [[Set the house on fire]] ] ](else:)[ [[Say "Please, I can fix it! It was an accident!" ->You die]] [[Say "I have the formulae, they're almost completely worked out!" ->You die]] (if: $psycho >= 4)[ [[Set the house on fire]] ] ]

You've been wondering this even before you knew who was inside the lab. "Why- Why did you do this here?" you ask. "What?" snaps Helen. "You love your kids, we all know that, so why did you keep your dangerous contaminant-filled lab inside the house?" Steve narrows his eyes. "I suppose you'd have us keep our daughter in a shed, like a dog?" "A safe, distanced lab! You guys have enough money to just put her in a differen house, for fuck's sake!" "She's my daughter!" says Helen. "I'm not going to have my baby living all alone somewhere far away. The lab's never been an issue till //you// came along." She spits the word 'you' like it's poison in her mouth. It reminds Steve of the gun in his hand, and you find yourself staring down its barrel. (if: $bs is 'exp' and $mercy is true)[ [[Say "Please, I'm sorry! It was an accident!" ->You cure]] [[Say "I have a cure!" ->You cure]] (if: $psycho >= 5)[ [[Set the house on fire]] ] ](else:)[ [[Say "Please, I'm sorry! It was an accident!" ->You die]] [[Say "I have a cure!" ->You die]] (if: $psycho >= 4)[ [[Set the house on fire]] ] ]

Steve's mouth is set. "We don't care," he says. The hand holding the gun wavers. You think, for a moment, that this is it. But he doesn't shoot. There's no bang, no smell of powder, and you see that he's supporting the gun with both hands now, but it's still shaking. "I'm sorry," you try. "Sorry?" says Helen. Her mascara is uneven now, making coal tracks down her cheeks. You've always known that the Millers aren't merciful to people who harm their children. "Sorry won't bring my children back," she says. She grabs the gun from her husband's hands and fires. [[end]]

Steve pauses. He lowers the gun slightly. "You //did// get pretty far with those research notes..." he says. "Yes! Yes," you say desperately, "please, I'll show you, look, I've got some notes on the desk, just let me show you!" Helen looks torn. "Steve, can we- how do you know it's not just a ploy?" "Helen, trust me. This is the intern who carried out the human trials, I saw the victims, I know that there's something to it." Helen doesn't seem convinced at all, but then Poppy cries out and she leaves her husband's side and goes to her eldest daughter, pushing her hair out of her face and soothing her. Steve puts the gun down. "Alright then, let's see it." [[And so]]

"Hi kids!" you say, with your best customer service voice. "Do you guys want to, uh, do some drawings?" Okay, so you aren't good with children. You panicked. Whatever. “We usually play outside now,” says Gardner, staring up at you. Iris nods in support. "Not in the back, because it's gross and we don't like it." "Why don't you like it?" you ask. "It smells bad!" says Gardner. The Millers' backyard, from what you can see, is set up with one of those new SafePlays, essentially a large airtight plastic tent around the perimeter, and a 'purifier' that's supposed to kill the parasitoids and anything else that could be floating around. It really does smell bad, that stale, new-plastic smell, but the front yard //is// a little dangerous. [[Say "Your mother said we shouldn't do that"]] [[Say "It's dangerous, there's a pig out there"]] [[Say "Sure!" - it's healthy for kids to play outside, after all]]

(if: $pig is false or $mom is false)[ You could have probably done a little more to convince the kids to stay inside, but it's fine. They're stubborn as hell, and no one's getting hurt ] "We won't tell, never ever" promises Iris, and Gardner nods excitedly beside her. You go out and have a pretty good time. The kids play some strange version of tag, jumping off of everything in their yard, and tag you in every now and then. They've got this little playhouse under a tree, and they pretend to be a princess and her brave knight. You step in to play the role of the fierce and evil dragon. You keep an eye on the time though, and usher them in soon. An hour or two is more than enough outside - Gardner's already managed to take his mask off once, although he was trying to show you how long he could hold his breath, and you snapped it back on immediately. Almost immediately. Really quickly. He'll be fine. (mouseover-append: "playhouse")[ (Dr. Miller probably built it for them. It's hospital fact that he'll do anything for his kids)] [[Go back inside]]

You haven't heard of this book, but you //do// know the author. Dr. Joseph M. Bradley. He's well known, at the hospital, which is another way of saying controversial. You're sure that if you hadn't been suspended, you would've heard every argument for and against the science in this book. Cass, the person you usually eat lunch with, hates Bradley. She calls him ableist and thinks his theories about the late stages are completely wrong, even though they line up with the hospital's own treatment policies. For personal reasons that you don't care to guess at, she thinks that even once the parasitoid is fully embedded in the cerebro-spinal system, the patient can retain a level of consciousness. [[You have had many conversations with her about it]]

"Saying that the urge to self harm is 'uncontrollable' is patently untrue. It can be treated with medication the same way regular suicidal tendencies are!" Cass would say, digging her fork viciously through the noodles on her tray. "The causes are different," you would point out. "Anti depressants or therapy don't work here." "Well, as far as we know!" "How many patients have we seen die this week?" "Okay there's no need to bring that up at lunch-" "-and I mean if you can't find any research papers-" "-You know how hard it is to get approval for human testing-" "-it's completely different areas of the brain-" "-you haven't seen the things I've seen, it's a very-" "-naive ideas-" "-narrow-minded to immediately assume-" The conversation would only devolve, until your break ended, and then Cass would say, "I just think the binary between a complete cure or death is kind of bullshit. We still don't have a cure for Alzheimers, but that doesn't mean that we chain them to a bed until they die or we kill them. Or, it shouldn't" [[And you kind of agree with her]]

Your own research seems to be pointing to something similar - the focus of existing studies is always on killing and removing the parasitoid, not on saving the patient. You think, with the right mix of chemicals, and some intense training, there's a way to turn the relationship more symbiotic, or at least more favourable to the patient. (if: $bs is 'exp')[There wasn't much support for this in your own research but you'd had a relatively small sample size, after all. And there was that one boy, barely a teen, who'd managed to respond, however minimally, to outside stimuli. He'd actually been one of the few subjects who made it to the ignoble end of the experiment. You have no idea what they did with him.] Nevertheless. If Dr. Miller recommended this book, there must be something of value here - he usually doesn't join the debates around Bradley's reliability. You read the [[blurb]] on the back.

(set: $bs to 'exp')

(set: $psycho +=1) Wait, no you can't. It's a //hermetically sealed door//. Your fingernails are keratin. That's a dumb idea. [["Fine, you'll find something else to use" ->Look around the house for something to help you open it ]]

You're kept prisoner in that house for a week, testing and re-testing the formula as best as you can without trying it on the kids. Helen wants to infect you and use you as a test subject, but you convince them that you're the only one who could figure it out. The day you finally get it is a bad day for Gardner.Steve hasn't been able to pinpoint which desperate measure he tried on Poppy had actually worked, and Gardner is a lot more unstable than Poppy right now. Iris is... coping. She doesn't take off her suit except to shower, and she spends time with both her siblings, talking at them and hoping for a response. She doesn't talk to her parents anymore, not really, so it's left to you to check on her every now and then. Helen spends every possible moment at Gardner's bedside, and only leaves to take over from Steve's job - pointing the gun at you. Sorry, supervising. She's on duty today, eyes as hard as ever. You have something, something that you think should work, but how can you know? [["Test it on Poppy" --> no can do]] [["Test it on Gardner" --> no can do]]

The Millers will never let you test it on one of their kids. You might be able to reason with Steve, maybe, but Helen? No way. In the absence of any trials, you can only take a chance. What will you even do, if this works? Will they let you leave? Could you publish? Do you trust them to keep to their word and let you live if you cure their children, or should you try to escape? [[Trust them]] [[Escape]]

"Helen," you say. "Mrs. Miller," she corrects. "Not feeling the respect with that gun pointed at me, sorry. But I think - I think I've got it. You need to call Steve." It's a bit of a scramble, after that. Steve looks over your work, you discuss the chances, and in the end, he distracts his wife while you test it on Gardner. It works. It doesn't get him back to full health, but he isn't hurting himself and he isn't in pain and he can almost form sentences again. It works better on Poppy. You and Steve sit down together and try to puzzle out the stabilizing agents, while the three children recover. [[Pretending to fake data is easy]]

The thing is, Helen isn't a doctor. She isn't a scientist. You mix up a batch of chloroform and slip it into your pocket without any issues. By the time Steve takes over, you're back to trying to mentally map out any side effects. God, you wish you had your computer. You know whoever's watching you at night will doze off at some point, so you wait until Steve does and then you stick him with the chloroform. Then you take your cure and administer it. Gardner is the right choice. He has to be - he needs it more if it works, and if it doesn't then Poppy already has a better chance of surviving and you need to maximize that. You wait another three days, and it seems to be working. You wait a week. Steve just thinks its his stabilizers working, but you replaced them when he wasn't looking. You dose Poppy, later, finger to your lips to tell her to keep it a secret, and a week later, when she's also showing no side effects, you know it's time. You're escaping. [[Take the kids]] [[Leave them - it's too risky, and they should be fine now]]

(if: $bs is 'exp')[You've done it before, after all. ] You and Steve publish jointly, and then you skip town. Steve, already being well-known and a senior doctor, gets most of the credit, but your new fame is enough to get you tenure at your pick of universities, and you currently split your time between lecturing and trying to perfect your formula. The two Miller children who are still alive are doing fine, as far as you know. Gardner still retained a majority of his neural capabilities, and Poppy sends you holotexts sometimes, when Helen isn't looking. She isn't the smartest kid, but you float the idea of her getting emancipated when she feels ready. The Millers are overbearing and overprotective and don't even let her push herself around in her chair. You told them not to brush it off. You told them they should take her to a therapist, but Helen had sat in on the first session and had cut it off the minute the therapist suggested that Iris's childhood //might// have been a little... un-ideal. You weren't invited to the funeral. [["The end" ->end]]

You can't just leave them here with borderline-toxic parents. You start using the chloroform more regularly, to talk to the kids unsupervised. First, you float the idea past Iris - her siblings are still recovering, still liable to blurt something out in pain, and she's already so distrustful of her parents. "I don't want to be here anymore," she whispers, "but only if Poppy and Gardner can come." Poppy recovers quicker than Gardner, and she wants to come with you too. "Dad didn't listen to me. I told and told but he pretended like I invisible," she mumbles. Gardner is confused, barely coherent, but Iris tells him she's going and that's enough for him. They're children. They can't give informed consent, they can't transfer guardianship to you. But at this point, what's a few more crimes? [[Enough to take care of some kids, that's what]]

You make a double-batch of anesthetic, strong, and when Helen dozes off watching you, you inject her. You get Steve too, and then [[you leave a holo-note for Iris]]

Hey Iris. I had to leave, but you're a big girl and I know you'll be able to take care of yourself and your siblings. There's a bunch of food on the counter, make sure you remember to feed them. They should be okay now. Your parents will wake up in a day or two. (a heavy sigh) Sorry about this. [[You close the door behind you]]

You fake experiments and publish under a new name in a different town. The cure is tested, and tested. It works. You quietly credit Cass's blog for the inspiration. Your new fame is enough to get you tenure at your pick of universities, and you currently split your time between lecturing and trying to perfect your formula. The two Miller children who are still alive are doing fine, as far as you know. Gardner still retained a majority of his neural capabilities, and Poppy sends you holotexts sometimes, when Helen isn't looking. She isn't the smartest kid, but you float the idea of her getting emancipated when she feels ready. The Millers are overbearing and overprotective and don't even let her push herself around in her chair. Poppy is the one who tells you about Iris. There's no accusation in her voice, but you know there should be. You should have known what that kind of trauma could do to someone, that Helen would never risk a child going to therapy and finding out that she doesn't actually get to control their life. It's the guilt that makes you make the offer to Poppy, really. She takes you up on it at sixteen, and you pay for a fancy hover-chair and weekly therapy sessions. It's a better outcome than you could have hoped for. [[end]]

You take advantage of the Millers' supply of chemicals and manage to make five more doses before they start getting suspicious about the change in Gardner and Poppy. Your plan is to sell the drug on the black market, get some new identities and enough money for the recovery. Your little stint with the experiments made you paranoid, so you do have a fake of your own, and some cash hidden away. You make some strong anesthetic, inject Steve and Helen, and steal their car. They'll be out for two days - they won't die, but you'll have a solid head-start. You stop by your own apartment long enough to grab some stuff, and then you drive away, three traumatized children in the car with you. You have your cash, you have your formulae, and you have the dregs of a plan. The plan will work - you've always been good at planning. You aren't good with children. You'll learn. [[end]]