Unraveling Consult

Hannah is relieved to gather up Ky and his list and head back up to the palace. The clinic is better prepared than what she was used to back home. So nice.

But first, she asks Brij, "Can you check on the rest of the clinics down here in the city and see what their staff levels and stocks are like? Not in detail, just scribble down what they're asking for. If we can get back together tomorrow we'll try to make a good guess at population and try to figure out where we should add more. Will you do that? We'll meet back down here in the city for breakfast?"

Brij nods. "I'm really glad Syd decided to come to a place where they speak Thari. I don't need a language barrier, too." Hannah notes that she doesn't ask where the other clinics are or how she'll get their attention. Unless Hannah stops her, she heads off, towards the center of the burgeoning city.

Hannah smiles after her.

Kyril smiles, "Back to jail, then?"

"I should hope not. As far as I'm concerned you've given your word and are under supervised release. We'll get you a room somewhere up there so I can, you know, supervise. But I was hoping you can tell me everything you know about genetics, on a high level, on the walk up." Hannah gestures back up toward the palace with a questioning gesture.

Kyril starts for the road up the cliff to Xanadu Proper. "OK, that's a pretty wide subject, starting with 'Why are one-quarter of the bean plants short?' and getting much more complex from there into some pretty racy stuff like molecular genetics and into gene sequencing."

Kyril goes on to explain twentieth century genetics in reasonable detail, Doctor to Doctor.

"None of it explains why you're qualitatively different from other people, but not all of your children are."

Hannah nods. "But... maybe it does. You and Solange never ran any genetic sequencing on her when she was in shadow with you, did you? To compare it?" She's horrified at the idea and yet curious too.

Ky laughs and shakes his head. "No, Solly wouldn't let me. She said her dad would kill me." He stops laughing, somewhat abruptly and runs his fingers through his hair. "I suppose she might've meant that literally. She wouldn't even let me check her blood type. She just told me it was an exotic, like Bombay Type, but compatible as a donor with AB+. Naturally I wanted to look at that, but she nixed it."

He pauses. "Do you think a microscope would work here?" He leaves the next question hanging.

"Yes." Hannah takes a deep breath. "But every bit of knowledge that can heal can hurt. It's always a struggle, isn't it? Do they tell the myth of Pandora's Casket where you're from? It wasn't even her casket, it was Zeus's. I always hated that story. It's told all wrong."

Hannah is annoyed, looking at the path in front of her. "They probably would kill us. But that's rather beside the point. Is it the right thing to do for the right reasons? Or the wrong reasons? Or the wrong thing for the right reasons? And what if we answer that wrong? No, we can't do it." She looks at Kyril. "I've been thinking about this for weeks. I mean to keep you out of my trouble, though you really are drawn to trouble, aren't you?"

Ky is slightly ahead, and turns to look back without stopping. "Guilty as charged, your honor." His grin is infectious, and his glance lingers longer than her boarding school chaperones would have have liked.

Hannah just raises an eyebrow and shakes her head at him. "We talked about cloning before, do you remember? Solange was there." She lets the little reminder of her sister sit there a minute.

Most people might not detect the anger Kyril has towards Solange, but Hannah reads people better than most people.

"I don't think Gerard would be interested in cloning, but perhaps something else. Something reconstructive. I've been thinking about how you might mix magic with healing. If all the bones are still there, at least the fragments big enough not to be absorbed during the process of cleanup, it seems to me they could be rearranged into the proper configuration and then if there was a way to magically trigger the healing process so they'd fuse that way... just a crazy thought to keep in the back of your head. I'd still like to find a way to see Gerard walk again someday.

"So if I get you a nice cozy house arrest room, what are you going to do with yourself? Because not having a schedule, that's where trouble comes in."

Kyril shrugs. "Well, since I was released from durance dull to be useful, I'll try to be useful. Set up a practice in town, specializing in diseases of the rich, hair restoration, maybe invent insurance claims to stimulate the economy. Things like that."

Kyril continues along the trail. He doesn't seem to get tired, although his brow is glistening, and he probably should have a hat, as incongruous as that might be with his casual clothes. "In other words, no idea. I've been sorta isolated from what 'useful' would look like, so I've either got to poke around and find it myself or get some hints."

"I've got some hints for you. Setting up a practice wouldn't be a bad idea, honestly, and nearly a full time job itself. Getting involved in making sure we're not going to have a sanitation issue - that would also be helpful and time-consuming. Maybe working with the... harbormaster? Whomever it is who runs the docks, have them send you sick folks shipping in so you can isolate bad diseases before they enter the populace. There may already be something in place for that, but I don't even know. You're joking about hair restoration, right?" She asks hopefully.

Kyril shakes his head. "Unless you have medicines and treatments I don't know about, hair restoration is not really a viable practice. It's pretty much the example they use in Medical School to weed out the unserious. They didn't catch me with that trick..." He looks down at the town. I don't see a way to dig sanitary sewers under a town basically built on a sand bar, but then I don't see how the town that's down there would survive a Tsunami or Tidal Wave. Might be possible to do something in the cliffside housing, but this whole place seems like it wasn't designed to deal with the realities of nature.

"Any idea why that would be viable? Maybe we should just be planning for when the entire place gets drowned."

"But that shouldn't..." she stops walking and looks up at that sky. Then back down at the city. "I suppose if someone could control the tides, there wouldn't need to be an earthquake. And tides are be about timing as well as forces."

Hannah sets her bag down and stares down at the city, putting her hands on top of her head and thinking.

"Yes. Yes, that too. Combine it. Electricity works, man-made materials should work, I think - something that can go under sand and is flexible enough to hold together. Or inflexible enough. Something that flushes sewage to somewhere less dangerous, something that serves as high ground in a Tidal Event. Use gravity, avoid relying on electricity. I keep thinking aqueducts, but it's not quite right. We may need to limit residential areas. Nothing is settled, though moving people around is always problematic. We should avoid it if we can but if we need to do it, the sooner the better. The city is only going to grow.

"I mean, in a Tidal Event, the buildings wouldn't survive, but maybe the people would. You can't stop the ocean. There would have to be drills, a holiday to practice, add some music and our King will be on board. He's going to say something like, 'It'll never happen because I don't want it to' and maybe he'll be right or maybe everything is possible. So... whatever it is we end up with, it needs to look like Art. Art that compliments the palace."

Finally, she smiles. "No small order, all told. But it'd keep people in work, give people an idea of what's possible here. It's plenty. Do what you can do. Just... come up with wild ideas and try to find people who come into the clinics who can answer questions about construction and whathaveyou. Have Brij help you. People are going to trust her and want to help her.

"Oh, hey, if you don't want to stay in the palace, I know some men in the city who'd be happy to have a doctor living among them. Something to think about."

"Mmmm. I don't want to live in town. I like being up here with the powers that be and working down there. Kinda lets me be a bridge between, which is rarer and may help more."

Hannah nods knowingly. "I understand that. Have you met the librarian? I've found you have to think outside the library, but knowing the librarian helps when you need details."

"Lauderville was in a Hurricane zone. In bad years, we'd get four. I know squat about building, but a way to get to high ground was the key. In Okaloosa, we had a sea wall. Build it with a bandstand, if you want music on it."

Kyril pushes his hair out of his eyes. "I have not, in fact, looked up the librarian. Solly and I corpse-napped his ex-girlfriend and I don't think he likes me."

Hannah sighs. "Right. Well, he'll have to learn to live with you. It might help if you apologized. Y'know, your jail time served as a nice cooling off period for everyone who might have been very angry about that. Maybe." She almost feels sorry for him. "Yeah, I'd offer apologies, were it me. I wouldn't go around trumpeting this, but Solange was trying to identify the threat. To me, it's sacrilege, but even I can see she considered the risks worth protecting the family. And she's paying the price. I don't expect she'll see parole in twice again the time you have. But then... it was her doing. All you could have done was abandoned the action.

"I know these circumstances are no fun for you. If you make yourself useful and do good things, people will redefine you by those actions. Unless they're real stubborn, but you can't do nothing about stubborn."

Kyril nods. "Yep, yep. I learned a long time ago that I couldn't fix it when someone else displaced their anger at their loved ones onto me. As an avowed atheist, I didn't have any problem with Solly's plan. She told me that most people were non-believers, so I didn't think of sacriledge as a concern. And I never counted on her father being more stubborn than she was. That was probably a mistake."

Hannah just snorts. "So do you think you have to believe in a god to think a soul is a sacred thing? Or that you have to believe in a god to believe there are souls? In general, most people don't take it well when you mess with their dead, whatever they believe in. Just a note, for the future," she adds, amused.

He navigates around the last switchback. "Almost there. I'm not very worried about myself. My poker buddies seem to think of my incarceration as a temporary condition, so I did, too. It wasn't the hardship you might imagine being locked up would be."

He grins. "Ever been to jail, Hannah?"

She chuckles. "Oh yeah. Three times. I was always protected from the 'hardships' too. I was only scared the first time, but I was young. That time got me a scholarship to finishing school. Once I helped bust up a bar. Found out I don't really like destroying things. Got off easy on that one - community service, but was in jail weeks while all the white ladies got to go see the judge ahead of me. Last time was during my residency in the capital. I was treating some working girls, and the local authorities didn't know me, so figured they better take me in to straighten things out. The Dean of the Medical College showed up to identify me, but it took two days. That was embarrassing. Was this the first time you've been in jail?"

He shakes his head. "Twice, before this. The last time I was a prisoner of war for about 3 days, but we were rescued. I don't know if that counts. The other time was when Solly disappeared and the police thought I knew something. I did, but you don't tell them that your girlfriend who disappeared is really a space-alien who went back to her magic castle to fight demons." He shrugs. "Or I didn't. Eventually they let me go due to lack of motive and evidence and because I had enough money to pay for a lawyer who was actually good at it."

"Oh, I think prisoner of war counts. Next one who gets imprisoned has to buy the other one a treat when they get out. Deal?" She smiles.

As they get up to the palace Hannah leads the way toward the library. "You need to get a hat, you know," she informs Kyril, trying to sound more doctor than mother.

Kyril shrugs and feels his forehead. "It goes red, then it tans off the next day. And at 57, I'll have skin cancer, but it'll be caused by things I did when I was 13. Nothing I can do about it now. While the King may look dashing and happy in slashed doublet and hose, I'd just feel silly in a getup that required a codpiece."

When Kyril figures out where Hannah is heading he stops. "Um. I'm not really ready for Nestor on his home grounds, and I don't think he's ready for me. Maybe I should sort out moving out of the dungeon?"

Hannah stops too. "Sure. Of course. Do you want me to come help you reassure people you've really been freed, or do you think you can handle that without me?"

Kyril laughs. "Nope, I can run it down myself. This place is, as far as I can tell, purposefully inefficient. They'll work it out, and ask around and such. Besides, the King tells a great story about how he went from Arrest to House Arrest to Dinner Guest to second in command after he tried to assassinate his predecessor. They're probably used to inviting prisoners to high tea here."

He smiles, then lets it go. "I can get on with my 'avoid Nestor for a bit longer' plan without your help."

Hannah laughs "Alright then. I have a call I need to make anyway. Don't avoid Nestor too long. He has the books." She says this last with all due solemnity. "And stay out of trouble!"

Random lets go of Raven's hand. "Welcome back to Stately Xanadu Manor." The mansion/castle behind the King was clue enough and the picturesque waterfall that fills the basin beside it made it abundantly clear where Raven was.

The King is dressed for riding. Either he's returned recently or he's about to set out. Other than him, the great terrace is empty.

He gestures towards a table near the edge. "Caine was either in a big hurry to get rid of you, or you've really got some news for me. What's up?"

"News, sir," Raven answers promptly, heading for the table. "The Admiral tells me I found something that Lucas was up to while I was checking in on the place where I grew up. Or a box of something."

"'Unka Random' is fine when we're in private, if you need to. I know it's hard to drop all that 'Sirring' and 'Ma'amming' when you're in the Navy, but them's the rules in this league."

Random sits in a way that couldn't possibly be comfortable. Draped over the frame of the chair, he gestures toward Raven. "Knowing Lucas, or at least the reputation he chose to cultivate, it's either something wildly inappropriate, wildly dangerous, or both. So, I'm going to guess that you found a collection of deadly pit vipers, each one tattooed with a unique scene of unbelievable debauchery.

"Am I close?"

Raven blinks a couple of times. "Can't say as how there's anything inappropriate." She considers, and then continues dryly, "Unless we're counting kind of girly handwriting. So I guess it's just dangerous. I found this box, addressed to my little brother what seems to be Lucas's son, and it's full of these." She pulls her sample out and sets it and the box on the table.

It is around this time that Jerod makes his entrance from the castle, nodding once to a page accompanying him before dismissing him. His approach is leisurely and as always court sensitive, enough time to allow Random sufficient time to warn him off if need be.

Random waves Jerod over. "Jerod, welcome back. Look what Raven found." The box holds enough cartridges to hold a palace coup, but not a civil war.

This is also the time when Ossian calls Random by Trump. "Requesting passage to Xanadu, uncle." he says with a smile as soon as the Trump contact is open.

"Come then," says Random, and holds out his hand.

Jerod nods to the King, looking at the box of cartridges, then at Raven inquiringly.

Ossian steps through, and bows to the King and to Jerod. "Uncle, cousin. " Then he looks at Raven, and the box, and then Raven again. "Oooh." he pauses. "I 'm Ossian."

"Raven," the captain identifies herself with a polite nod. "These were left for my little brother. Guessing my mother didn't know about them, since they got left."

Random looks at the cartridges. "Not Corwin's automatic rifle ammo, but it could've come from the same batch, for officer's pistols..."

He picks one up. "Opinions, lads? What was Lucas up to, why the boy, and what else do we not know? I don't think they're decorative."

"Max - my brother - he told me he was the oldest of six," Raven says helpfully. "Though I can't say as how he told me much more than that. And it was addressed to him, special-like." She pulls the paper the box had been wrapped in out of her coat pocket and flattens it on the table. "And the way it was left was odd. It ain't like my mother to leave good furniture behind, much less good furniture what has something she could use to get money out of someone hid in it." She sounds very certain of that.

Jerod picks up one of the cartridges as Raven speaks, listening to the words as he twists the bullet from the cartridge casing, dumping the propellant into his hand to see how it compares to what was in the arsenal and what he had seen before. He wipes the powder from his hand once he is done, replacing the cartridge and bullet back beside the box once he is done.

If Random is observing him (and Jerod would be surprised if he weren't), and if the propellant matches what Jerod knows from prior experience, then the King gets a single nod concerning his assertation.

"Max had indicated he would need to avenge his father in some circumstances." Jerod says. "A stash perhaps, delayed vengeance maybe. Or a hedge against future bets if they went wrong, or if Lucas saw an opportunity to exploit. I'm not sure I'd say they were for use against you your majesty...but rather an unnamed family in a bad future. They're very effective equalizers.

Ossian nods "Lucas did care for his kids, and he definitely was capable of scheming. But, I wonder, isn't it more dangerous for the kid to be found with bullets in his possession?"

Random almost replies to Ossian, but stops when Jerod starts asking questions.

"Would your mother have taken something that didn't belong to her, if it was likely to cause problems for her later?" Jerod asks Raven. "Could the furniture have come from someone else, who may have expected it back? I'm assuming this furniture was not a new addition that came after her departure." He motions to the paper. "May I?"

Random touches it with his little finger, brings it to his nose, then sticks it in his mouth. It does not kill him, but it's easy to see that he doesn't like the experience..

"Light it up," says Random. "It's what I was gonna do. But don't be surprised if it doesn't work here and does elsewhere. Gunpowder leads to guns, 'equalizers', you called 'em? That's what they were in Flora's favorite shadow. Last thing we need, being us.

"Raven, can you keep Max from committing suicide by Moire? Or can his mother?"

Ossian keeps quiet for the moment.

"I can try," Raven answers. "Can't promise; I barely know the boy. Whoever does it, it'll be a damn sight easier if people what know who killed his father stay away from him or keep their mouths shut for now. He can't go poke at people if he don't know who they are, and he doesn't seem to yet."

Random shrugs. "Bad news, you're going to end up with the hard way. Restraint in gossiping is not a feudal duty they owe me."

He turns to Jerod and holds out a lighter. It's a flint and steel affair, with some sort of fuel oil. Hopefully it won't explode too explosively.

Jerod takes the lighter and flicks the wheel to produce a flame, followed by a slow pass across the powder from the cartridge.

Raven isn't surprised that she'll have to do it the hard way, clearly. She watches what Jerod is doing without further comment, though.

The powder burns -- a slow sullen and non-combustive burn that would not propel a cartridge at lethal speeds.

[Random]
"That's Corwin's stuff. Great for polishing jewelry. Probably still explosive in Amber. Or 'again'. I would quite like to know where Lucas got it. Also, why he gave it to a boy, but unless we're going to go bother his ghost, we're not likely to learn that one."

"Do we know of anyone else with access to the powder?" Ossian asks.

Random shrugs. "Anyone who visited his favorite shadow. Anyone who got a cartridge, fired or unfired, after the batter. It's hard to imagine anyone who couldn't have had access to that powder. Rebmans, maybe."

Ossian also follows the process. He looks at Random. "Do they know about Reid?" he says gesturing towards his cousins.

Random shakes his head. "Not from me. Nephews, your cousin Reid is dead. Ossian discovered this while on a mission to find him. We have unfinished business over the matter with the Klybesians. They say they were not involved, of course.

"I'm going back there to tell them we want his body. And if I get away with it, his girlfriend too." Ossian smiles. "I could use some backup."

"There is also the issue of the Gatwegians, Uncle." Jerod offers. "I've been assembling info on that and personnel as needed. My return was to collect Raven and his ship before heading out."

Raven nods in agreement. That had been the plan...

Random smiles and waits a moment before proceeding. "I imagine of the difficulties of working for me is that I keep adjusting things to match the current circumstances rather than the circumstances when last we talked. I suspect this is part of why my brothers and I stayed away from Dad when he was in a delegating mood.

"Have you ever seen any of those heirarchy of needs charts, Jerod? All the rage in mechanical-electrical societies that have the leisure time to indulge in philosophy.

"In any case, I need to deliver a message to the Klybesians who may have killed my nephew more urgently than I need to deliver a message to the Gatwegans who almost killed a different nephew. Call it Random's Heirarchy of Threatening Missives, if you will."

Jerod nods, apparently unsurprised. He knew the moment he heard of Reid's demise that a response would be needed on that front - such a situation could not be ignored. He makes note to himself to send a message to the Count to advise of the necessary delay. It will give the Weir time to prepare if needed.

He turns to Raven. "You came here by trump and the Vale of Garnath is in Amber. If Caine is efficient, it's already set sail for Xanadu. What say we let that happen and you three head off to make my opinion known to the Brothers. I'll have someone make sure your ship is all shiny when you get back."

"What level of...response...is his majesty looking for?" Jerod asks. "The Klybesians are certain to be in full obstruction mode and an admission of culpability is unlikely. Are we just nudging them, or do we need to be concerned about salting the ground as it were?"

"Aye," Raven agrees, cutting herself off before she added the 'sir' that naturally ought to follow orders. "And how big a nudge, if that's what we're doing instead of the other?"

Ossian smiles. While he does not particularly like Jerod, he thinks that it will be interesting to see him interact with the Klybesians. "We will not negotiate, which will annoy the Klybesians to no end."

Random nods. "Ossian has my message. You three can discuss details of how you want to deliver it to them amongst yourselves. If they can't give you Reid's body immediately, well, we have less cooperative options. Don't stand for delay if it's mere obstructionism. And once you have the body, remind them that we wanted all of it back. If they've chosen to do medical experiments on his corpse, they will wish they'd only had to face the death-curse of a Prince of Amber."

Random smiles. "Easy, right? If you need horses, get them from the stable. Oh, and get the girl. She may be able to tell us more about what happened to him."

Jerod looks at Ossian. "Rule 38. Your lead, your plan."

Ossian coughs. "I have painted a Trump sketch of a place close to them. Should be annoying enough for them. As soon as we get in contact with them we demand to talk with Hannibal, who seems to be one of their leaders. We ask for the body, and for the girl.

"They will try to negotiate. If they persist we go claim the body without their consent."

"Do we know where the body is?" Raven asks. "And the girl?"

"I have been to what they say is his grave. The girl I don't know. It would be much better if we could threaten them to release her and the body. They do understand power.

"They do have at least one sorcerer, and have stuff from many shadows. But I am pretty sure we could wreck that place if we need to.

"Any suggestions?"

"Define stuff from Shadows." Jerod says, motioning for food and drink to a page hovering on the edge of their vision once the King departs.

[Ossian]
"Trinkets. Maybe they just wanted to show off. But in one way or the other they have acquired the things."

"You don't sound so sure that was actually his grave," Raven says. It's half observation and half question.

"I did not dig him up, no." Ossian says "And while I do not think they lied to me, I cannot be certain."

"Ah." Raven pauses, and then asks, "Since I ain't got a clue, is there anything I'm supposed to know about these folks? Besides that if they're talking, they ain't to be trusted?"

"They trade in information, so if they want to stay in business, they'd better not lie. They will probably want something in exchange for releasing the body and the girl. And we will deny them that. " Ossian seems rather pleased at that.

"While I do think they mostly trade information in a honest manner, they are too interested in our family."

"And that ain't great," Raven says, nodding. "All right. I think I'm caught up enough."

"Since you seem to think that they're going to negotiate and we're going to refuse to do so, perhaps you'd like to explain how you think they're going to just give us the location of Reid's body and the girl." Jerod asks. "If you're not negotiating by trade, then you're doing so by force. What are you going to have that they are not going to want to be subjected to?"

Ossian grins. "Well, I'm counting on you there, cousin. If we want to, I guess we could wreck the place with Pattern. The threat should be enough."

"I think if we're going to wreck the place with Pattern, it won't be a 'we' effort." Jerod replies drily. "I'm hoping you've considered if they've got a sorcerer, I can defend against that personally. I'd figure so can you. Raven...maybe not so. No Pattern walk, remember?

"What's your escape plan if things don't go so well?"

Raven isn't exactly thrilled at the idea of having to defend herself against a sorcerer, and it shows on her face, but she doesn't interrupt.

Ossian nods. "I guess Trumping away is one plan if things go bad. I am worried that it might be too slow, though. I still think they are wise enough to give in to threats."

Jerod looks over at Raven. "Thoughts?"

"Well, it's a plan," Raven says drily, "and not just a single step in one." She snorts and shakes her head. "I ain't got a problem with threatening these people, but threats have got to be done right or they ain't worth much. You can't open with a big one - which I'm guessing 'wreck the place with Pattern' is - unless you already made other threats and they didn't listen. Besides, it don't leave you much wiggle room if they try to kill you before you can carry it out. And it don't sound too healthy for the body we're supposed to bring back, either. And not sure I like having only one plan for if things go bad, since I'll be f-" she clears her throat, "screwed if I ain't with whoever's got the card when it's time to leave."

"I know the plan is not that good. What about if you are the one with the card?" Ossian asks.

"I have no intention of starting out with the big threats. Just the implicit ones that we pose by being Random's messengers."

Raven nods. "Aye, that'll work a bit better." She glances at Jerod. "Guess my next question is, is that going to be enough of a threat? 'Or else' ain't of much use unless they already know you mean it."

"No, it isn't." Jerod replies, leaning back in his chair. "We can try to shake them up early if we want. That puts them on the defensive and makes them nervous, but it can also motivate them to prepare and can get their backs up.

"We'll need to go in early, to the edge of the Shadow. There are things that can be done to mess with them, to make things happen under certain conditions. But you need to be able read the place first and if they have sorcery available, that's a power than can be used to counter ours. It won't last long against us, but in a pinch it can last long enough to stop us."

"I think they know what Amberites in general are capable of, but they might think we are not that dangerous. Maybe shaking them up a little could be good. Nothing grand enough to make them hate us, though." Ossian looks at Jerod. "What did you have in mind?"

Raven looks at Jerod as well.

Jerod sifts memories for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"Foreboding." he says simply.

"If I have enough time, I can try to make those in the shadow feel a presence. I can't affect their emotional state...Pattern doesn't work that way. But I can create the conditions under which a person would be likely to interpret those conditions as equally something foreboding. And once that begins to take hold, I can adjust the probabilities to permit others who are weaker against reality from being likely to consider resistance to it.

"Enough to let their emotions do some of our work for us."

"That's subtle and good," Ossian says. "How much time do you need?"

"Depends on the Shadow and the people." Jerod says. "How strong, how much reality exists there and needs to be adjusted. We'd see once we get there...that's why we'd need to be on the edge. We wouldn't want to be doing this while we're trying to talk to the Klybesians, or any of their military flunkies."

Raven continues to listen.

"My trump sketch should be suitable then," Ossian says. "I should probably find me a larger sword, before we leave. Other than that, I think I'm ready. What about you?"

Into the momentary silence, Random looks up from the crossword puzzle he's been doing, or at least using as a pad for doodling on. "You all need anything else from me? Don't take no for an answer and if you need to shove a dirt-covered coffin through a trump, try to make sure to do so when I'm in bed, asleep..."