setting
Index was once a small and close-knit community, but the town located on the western side of Washington state has grown in recent years beyond anyone's expectations. It is the ideal place for those who work in Seattle but can't afford the city's high real estate prices, and for others the natural beauty attracts them to the town. And Index truly is a beautiful place - surrounded by thick evergreen trees, tall mountains and glistening rivers and lakes. While weather is typically rainy with overcast skies even this does nothing to take away from the beauty of the town, and it is only highlighted further when the heavy snow graces the town and caps the mountains in winter. To many, Index would seem like a paradise. And yet lurking beneath this visual beauty there is more to this town than anyone might ever imagine...

Current Time in Index, Washington:
rules
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 [Closed] Mr. Lennox, Your One Fifteen is Here

[Closed] Mr. Lennox, Your One Fifteen is Here

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[Closed] Mr. Lennox, Your One Fifteen is Here

Shane Mathis | Warlock; Necromancer

Posted on Thu Oct 19, 2017 6:40 pm

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Kalispell, Montana ⋅ 71 degrees and sunny ⋅ 1pm


You could tell who paid attention to the weather reports. The last three or four days had been cold, overcast and windy which left many today with heavy sweaters and boots. They wanted to be happy about the warmth, but they weren't. They were speeding along the fall train and here was an almost summery day like a genuine smile but from the face of an enemy. Soccer moms who never stopped wearing Uggs the first time they were in fashion shuffled into the mom & pop diner next to the office for their lunch with their girlfriends before whatever was on their agenda for the day. Not much judgment from me, the potato soup I'd brought back to my desk was perfect. I knocked the Styrofoam bowl into the garbage with the back of my hand and sipped the last ounce of watered down Pepsi. I checked the computer to see if my next client had checked in. Mrs. Salter - a new one. I briefly skimmed the information that had been obtained over the phone. Chief complaint: marital problems, general unhappiness. Suicidal ideations? No, but Barbie had made a comment that there was some hesitancy with that answer. It should be noted that Barbie has a flair for dramatics so I take all of her input with a grain of salt and never assume anything from her phone questionnaires. That being said, I think there is always at least a small amount of truth to her assumptions. Next information: No medications, psychiatric or otherwise. No general physician. Patient reports some social drinking. No recreational drugs however no one ever admits to that one on the phone screening. Oh, interesting - she's a research associate for Montana State. Could be intriguing or boring, we'll find out if she becomes a regular. It's not easy to enjoy work after lunch, but this information had me distracted enough to keep my eyes away from the clock.

I stepped out to the waiting room, my eyes searching for a woman, according to the questionnaire was 29. There had to be at least four in the room who could pass for that age. Tara? I didn't have time to stop the smile when the redhead stood. Luckily it expressed itself as warm, welcoming but my heart raced a little at the idea of spending time having intelligent conversation with an attractive woman. Follow me, I said as we passed through the narrow hallway into my office on the second floor of the older building in downtown Kalispell. My office wasn't bad, albeit a few poor design choices. Sloppily painted wainscoting and crown molding, light blue with a darker, more gray tinted hue on the rest of the wall. Old, but nice hardwood floors. The proverbial couch was an actual couch, not some fancy lounge. I kept the art simple, black framed black and white photography. I took a seat in my chair but casually leaned back and swiveled to face the couch as I motioned for her to have the seat. I'm Calvin. What brings you here today?

Twenty nine was probably the correct age. Red hair, not natural but not fire engine red. Just.... orangey. Tattooed arms, and yes, Tara had checked the weather. Plain black short sleeve tee, olive green denim skinny jeans. Hair down in loose curls. No Uggs. Just generic black ankle boots. She sat down and let her back sink into the couch and looked at the ceiling. I'm thinking about change, she said. And I don't mean a tattoo or hair dye or even a new car. I mean, I want to leave. I want to leave my husband. I want a new job. I'm just... I feel this itch like I'm about to jump out of my skin.

Is there anything stopping you? Her eyes widened and I simply smiled in response. I'm not suggesting you do it. You see how this works, right? I'm not asking you this for my sake, I'm making you ask yourself.

Alright, sure. I haven't done it because it's a lot of work to change these things, a lot of work when there's no clear promise of happiness. That was a certain truth almost anyone could agree with if they weren't adamantly opposed to acknowledging it. There is never any promise of happiness.

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Re: [Closed] Mr. Lennox, Your One Fifteen is Here

Shane Mathis | Warlock; Necromancer

Posted on Thu Oct 19, 2017 7:53 pm

The second appointment




What is it that you do?
I study water. She couldn't have seemed more bored if I was Ben Stein reading how-to instructions for a juicing machine. What's wrong, Tara? She was sitting on the couch with her legs criss-cross style and I had half a mind to take a seat beside her. A simple sign that I hadn't been counseling for long. I was no expert but I had at least accomplished a rapport with Tara. I had a feeling she wouldn't lie to me if asked directly, about any particular thing - but she might not give just any information without being asked. So I had to figure her out. None of her doors were locked, but there were so many and it was difficult to tell just which one opened up to the prize.

I don't mean any offense, I just... I don't know how anything will change. If I stay, the grass of leaving is greener, if I go, I'll feel like, I don't know, all the experiences I have will be bittersweet when I can't share them. She stared at nothing as she talked. Looked right through the fake potted plant, through the wall, like she was looking at some movie playing of life decisions and possibilities. You're getting ahead of yourself, Tara. No one has a gun to your head. No one is telling you that you have to make any decisions now. Besides, you have more options. But Tara? I need you to focus on here and now.

Fine, I collect water samples. Test them for various companies, various reasons.. She was clearly bored, clearly unhappy about it. And you want a change? How much of a change? Is your problem with the company you work for? Or are you bored in what you do?
All of it. Mr. Len-
Calvin.
Sorry - Calvin. Have you heard of Desert Greening? There are these two guys, I can't remember their names but they just had this breakthrough. Something to do with grazing. And here I am, like, YES, surprise surprise, the water next to the pigment factory IS contaminated!
I raised a single eyebrow. I easily identified her feeling but I couldn't (anymore) identify with her feeling. Another brick in the wall. It might not feel like it, Tara, but you're doing really important work. But, and I don't mean to sound negative, but not everyone gets to make the groundbreaking discoveries.
Not everyone makes the front page. It doesn't mean the substance, the rest of the world, isn't important.


I made her feel better about her job, or at least she pretended to feel better about it to shut me up. There was a brief silence but it wasn't long before she broke it, by saying something that I didn't expect to leave her guarded lips. I know. I know, Calvin, I really do. I'm just... bored. I'm just tired of this railroad. Does that make sense? I'm tired of the rest of the world deciding in which way it's okay for me to be an asshole. I could drive the biggest gas guzzling SUV, drive like I own the road. Get in bar fights, make videos on YouTube raging about my political agenda. That makes me tough? Cool, a bad ass bitch. I wanna try things, experience things? Try ONE drug? Leave my husband who is probably better off without me? Do SOMEthing for myself that isn't a fucking Tuesday mani-pedi special? And I'm selfish? Impulsive? Another silence. This time it was much longer.

Tara are you thinking of trying a recreational drug? Please be honest. The thirty seconds it took her to respond felt like two hours.
Yes.
I want to remind you, Tara, I cannot and will not repeat anything you say. And on that note, I.... My head fell back, and my eyes found a random object in the room. Something random to focus on. I might have had an agenda, but I was wildly curious before anything else. I'd like to ask for that same courtesy. Quickly, very briefly I took note of the puzzled expression on her face. Tara, I prefer honesty from myself as well, even above the rules of my profession. I guess what I'm trying to say, is that I'm not your fifth grade DARE counselor. If you're interested in an honest discussion with me on this subject, I'll give you honest feedback. She was holding back a smile, I knew it.

What do you know about DMT?


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