Memento mori

Fly me to the moon: Oberon

I'm a curious person.

If you ask me if I am curious, I will tell you I am, in every way it can mean. Now, people say curiosity can be bad. That I know for sure, but never have I suffered from it as of now.

They also say curiosity killed the cat. That's a joke I often get. I stopped caring about it quickly. Now, I'm surrounded by others who don't mind. They are very curious, each of them, in many ways, each of their mind working in their own, complicate ways. Even when I have nothing to work on, I can still observe them, to be surprised at every second by their choice. But at least, despite the endless surprise that an individual can provide by observing his action, there are some constant, some fixed rules they obey.

Never will Eric speak about his past.

Never will Hanna stop to overanalyze thing.

And never will my thirst for more knowledge ever quenched.

It can be a little scary for me to meet other people, so I tend to immediately learn the most I can about them. How else can I be in their presence? It is impossible for me to work properly with people I can't understand.

If I succeed at understanding at least a fraction of how they work, then it's no more dangerous for me to be here. I can't speak properly to people I don't understand.

But for once, I couldn't understand a thing about Seth. This jackal was nothing but normal. Beyond the strangest individual I could ever meet.

The first time I met him, his energy seemed off. He exuded an aura that smelled like sewer. Nothing about him seemed right.

An amnesiac jackal, who went trough events that gave him natural affinity for necromancy, a field of supernatural where so little is known.

What sort of events made him like that?

He was out of the ordinary. From the little I could say now, I'd say he is devoured in and out by mental instability he doesn't the source of. And that is without speaking about the countless horrific supernatural experience he had since he joined my department.

I did my best to understand him. At first, I tried as usual, gathering data, but I failed, as nothing relevantly normal could be observed. So, I took upon myself to act a bit more like other normal people. Going out, doing activities together. It's truly hard for me to pretend to not be me, as I can only be me, and not others. And so, I failed once again to aquire tangible data.

And don't get me started on his show where he got all white. That is the definition of the word alien, it's purest and most ancient form. Something that does not belong here.

I was disappointed. Oftentimes, when I inform Hanna about things she doesn't know, she pats my head and thank me. I liked that.

Truly I can't seem to understand him. At least for now, for I have now a few big elements of his thinking process.

Severe repression of emotions, unconscious avoidance of all elements of his past, random outburst of suicidal behavior and last but not least: a terrible hatred or fear of contact and fire.

I could see how tense he was when I climbed on his shoulder when we got to an ice rink. I could see how little he seemed to care for his safety when he jumped in the fire of the building, just for his mind to shut down a few seconds after that.

And it was just like that.

Our two groups where crossing data, but halfway through Hanna theorizing, Seth started to have seizure, as if his mind was being overflowed. He immediately collapsed on the floor. At the best of our capacity, we tried to help.