The Ghosts in My Head

They effect me physically.

After channeling Jones for any extended period of time, and even sometimes at random, I get pain through the entirety of my left leg. He suffered a brutal war injury in that leg. Ended up being cause for his discharge.

Max causes pains, and even actual muscle knots in my right shoulder. He hasn’t said why. But his brother is known to ask how his shoulder is feeling.

Aquila causes me to lose sight in my right eye.

I don’t know how to keep it from happening, but it does. It’s not a good thing. Much as I love them, I have my own physical problems to deal with, and don’t need theirs to add to it.

The lack of vision thing is more of a nuisance really…

last night, after seeing Game of Shadows that Frederick is Sherlock Holmes, and Max is John Watson. I think it was the whole exchange on marriage that did it.

They chided us for talking about them like they weren’t there. Or at least Max did. Fredrick just reveled in the fact he was Sherlock Holmes. We did it to ourselves.

Max also wanted to know why Germans are always the bad guys. We had to assure him that this time they weren’t really “bad”, they were just paid large sums of money. Though the question was sort of ironic, coming from him…

I have a recurring memory when channeling Max, sometimes. It’s rather vivid, and since it keeps replaying, even if he doesn’t necessarily want it to, I knew it had to be poignant.

The first part of this memory is at night. Light filters through the window from street lamps and the single bulb light in the bathroom, but for some reason the memory is always relatively monochrome. A small clock sits on the dresser. I can never make out the time, as it falls just in shadow, but he glances at it frequently. All I know, is that it’s very late, and the noise of it’s ticking is the loudest sound in the room. His brother, Frederick, is sleeping next to him on a simple, metal framed bed. Max is restless, and worried but at the same time filled with a great sense of relief.

Once, the memory continued to the morning. At some point, Max had eventually fallen asleep, but was woken up when Frederick stirred, and subsequently, fell off the bed.

It was earlier this morning that he finally revealed the significance of this memory.

Frederick had a problem with drugs, mostly heroin, or a variant of it. Earlier in the evening the memory took place, Max had come home after a trip to Berlin to find his brother in an alley way, dangerous levels of the drug coursing through him. Most likely an overdose. Max panicked, and against his better judgement, didn’t take him to a hospital. Instead, he checked them in to a place down the street and spent the better part of the night trying to flush the drugs out of Frederick’s system. At first, he wasn’t sure if his brother would make it through the night, but his condition slowly improved over the course of several hours.

At least I have some fellow estrogen in this sea of testosterone.

Claire came to me by sort of accident… and I think she’ll be sticking around a while…

Last night, Max talked with his brother. Frederick’s host and I let them talk to each other over the phone. Took them some getting used to, but Frederick apparently likes to try and abuse it. 

At any rate, they apparently got on the subject of penguins. Max tells me it all started because he made an off hand comment about how his brother reminded him of a penguin.

Frederick’s host wakes up this morning to find her recent Google search to be “Gay Penguins”.

Max was amused.

aside from sharing the same “residence”…

They’re all damn perverts.