The violence we do to ourselves (Part 1)

Summary:

In which half the gang meets a new cluster, and the other half shares memories.

"The real violence, the violence I realized was unforgivable, is the violence that we do to ourselves, when we're too afraid to be who we really are."
— From S1E9, "Death Doesn't Let You Say Goodbye"

A/N:

Four things.

1) I am perfectly alive though overwhelmingly busy because I am starting my last year of college *groans*. My beta would second this. And together we take forever to finish a chapter. Apologies!

2) Thank you for all the encouraging comments on various platforms regarding my story thus far. They make my day, and whenever I feel like procrastinating, your readership keeps me going :)

3) I am getting a bit more motivated to write again so hopefully I can update a bit quicker again. But I promise I will not let go of this story. The plot is thickening, and I am as excited to read the next bit as you are!

4) This chapter was supposed to be one full chapter but it got WAY out of hand and I ended up with 9000 words of draft so I decided to make it a two-parter. It's not because I am trying to buy myself more time to write my next chapter at all. No. Totally not. Why would you think that XP

July 14, 2017

The Archipelago had found another safe house on the outskirts of Paris. It was in a neighborhood full of rich people's vacation homes. Felix expected it to be fancy.

And it certainly was, if the rose garden that surrounded the area in front of the entrance was any indication. The house was painted a creme white, flowers and leaves decking the windowsills in a fashion similar to Kala's flat in the center of the city.

When Kala, Sun, Felix, and Wolfgang (who was begrudgingly walking with his cane) arrived in the morning, it was still chilly, but the windows were open, taking it all in. They stared at the place in awe, and Felix knew the rest of the group would react the same way when they make their ways over tomorrow.

A good location for a new hideout. Everyone agreed the Paris flat Rajan had purchased was only good for a temporary stay. After all, transactions between bank accounts, Nomi had pointed out, was one of the easiest things to track down. Bug could do it, and BPO certainly wouldn't find that too much of a challenge.

Then the front door opened, and they saw a tall, lean man with an umber brown complexion. He grinned and extended his arms in welcome, showcasing his Hawaiian shirt in its entirety. The orange and green matched the colors weaved into his dreadlocks, which brushed against his shoulder. It was not until he was standing right in front of them that they noticed he also wore a black tie with a whimsical pattern.

"The heroes of the hour!" he said in a London accent, his voice booming. Then he extended his calloused hand, speckled with dried gold paint, which Felix shook while everyone else hung back, dazed at the enthusiastic welcome they had certainly not expected. "Leon Tucker, pleased to meet you."

"Those are some awesome shoes," was Felix's reply as he glanced down at Leon's feet.

Leon's shoes were a mustard yellow, the exact shade he would have opted if he'd decided to buy a new pair. On habit he noted the fineness of the stitches along the seams, the firmness of the leather. Handmade and Italian.They looked expensive as fuck.

"Back at you, mate," said Leon, examining Felix's silver shoes in return.

Leon turned to smile at the rest of the crew, and it was then that Kala noticed she had not spoken a word. "I'm sorry," she apologized for the four of them, "when they told us about this place, we were not expecting -"

To her surprise, Leon laughed. "Ahh, yes. My cluster runs this place. Always a fun surprise for first-time lodgers."

"You do this often?" asked Sun.

"We -" he gestured to the magnificent house behind him, - "are the Airbnb for sensates in need, my friend. Who'd you think did all the fancy gardening?"

Next to Felix, Wolfgang raised an eyebrow.

"Right," said Leon, noticing his apparent disbelief, "not me. This is all Gina and Rickie's work. Sometimes Genevieve helps."

"How many of you are there?" Wolfgang asked.

"There's five of us. But three of them went out shoppin'. And Miki is - oh, hang on -" Leon made his way to the open window - "oi!" he bellowed, "Miki, they're here!"

The window opened further, and a woman gave them a wave in her oven mitts. Her dark brown eyes squinted into half-moons as she smiled, and deep dimples appeared in her tawny cheeks, adding a playful glow to her expression. One of her black braids slid past her shoulder, the dyed red tip brushing against the ledge.

She beckoned for them to come in, and they were happy to oblige when they smelled marshmallow chocolate chip cookies wafted through the air. They found themselves in a vast doorway with photographs hanging from walls filled with abstract painted patterns. Below their feet, marbled floor tiles reflected the overhead lights. A wide wooden staircase stood on their right. Felix heard a child's laugh.

"They're here!" the boy cheered. And, instead of running down the stairs, he jumped on the railing and slid down, falling off halfway to roll off the rest of the steps. Felix cringed as the boy hit the marbled floor with a thud.

"Damien!" Miki shrieked, rushing over to examine him.

The child — he couldn't have been more than nine — lifted his head, grinning. He had sparse, dark freckles near his cheekbones. Spiky black hair stood up on his head like the prickly quills on a porcupine.

"M'alright!" he declared. "Did ya see that landing? I'm Damien! You're late! Okay, test two!"

"Oh no you don't," Miki said, her voice stern, grabbing his hands as he tried to run back upstairs. She tapped the elbow that had smacked against the ground with her finger, breathing a sigh of relief when he didn't flinch. She muttered something about "another broken arm". Damien stuck out his tongue before running into the kitchen.

Sighing, Miki turned to them and smiled in apology.

"Is he like us?" Sun asked.

"Homo sensorium? Yeah. He's been with us two years. His mom dropped him off here."

"Oldest resident in Château Tucker, he is," Leon interjected, and Miki rolled her eyes, punching him lightly in the arm. He groaned. "Ow, that actually hurt."

It was Miki's turn to grin. "Good."

Turning to the four visitors, Leon pointed at Miki and shook his head. "Always bullies me, she does. Don't let her size fool ya. She gets surprisingly punchy."

Felix watched Sun suppress a smirk as she examined the round-faced woman whose height only reached her chin, standing barefoot on the cold marble floor, bulky muscles on her thighs exposed in their entirety underneath the oversized t-shirt she wore. Thought after witnessing Sun's kickass fighting when the rescued Wolfie, he knew better than to judge a woman by her size.

"It's only surprising because you always underestimate me," Miki voice was light and cheery when she teased, and she sounded American.

Leon shrugged. "You have a point there. I should carry around a shield or somethin'."

Miki nodded, approving of his admission of defeat, before turning to the group, who were watching their squabble with amused expressions. "Now that that's settled, want some breakfast?" she gestured to the kitchen, where the smell of cookies were getting more inviting by the second.

They nodded. They hadn't eaten since the crack of dawn, just before they'd made their ways here. By then they were too hungry and tired to wonder why the hosts would consider cookies to be a normal breakfast option. As if he could read their thoughts (and he probably could, had the three of them not been on Blockers), Leon remarked, "It's cookies for breakfast whenever Miki's in charge."

Miki nodded, eyeing the half-empty tray of soft-baked cookies Damien was wolfing down before bringing the other batches out of the oven for the guests. "I'd say this goes well with coffee," she told them. And, at Damien perked up in his chair, "No. No coffee for you."

"Aww come on, that was one time -"

The Paris safe house was even bigger on the inside.

Kala counted eleven bedrooms as they were led by Leon and Miki on a tour through the three floors of the mansion. The floor in the hallways, living rooms and (to her delight) basement lab were all paved with fine marble, and the bedrooms were lined with mahogany tiles. The creamy white color of the paint remained on a few walls, though the others were covered with oil and acrylic paint.

She wouldn't call them graffiti, exactly, though the style was mostly abstract, the shapes too foreign for her to try and interpret. Ajay was right, she thought, cringing at the thought of the man that later turned out to be yet another criminal in her life. Perhaps not understanding a work of art made it more appealing. The bright and colorful patterns in the works added vibrance to a house that had once no doubt hosted the most wanted sensate fugitives. She knew Hernando would swoon once he laid his eyes on them.

"Did you do all this?" she asked Leon. Wolfgang, who was walking beside her, an arm around her shoulder, also glanced around in awe.

"Sure did," he answered, smiling in a smug way. And, as Miki punched him in the arm again, he added, "she helped, too."

"Helped?" Miki crossed her arms. "Please, you wouldn't have been inspired without me."

Leon pulled her into a side-hug, conceding. "She has chromesthesia," he explained to the guests as Miki beamed. "Which, I suppose, means we all have. You should've seen us back when we first got the place. All the music and colors… Bloody exhilarating, it was."

"How long have you lived here?" asked Sun.

"How long… Blimey, 's been two years, hasn't it?" he turned to Miki, who thought about it before nodding.

Felix looked around the well-furnished hall and let out a whistle.

Leon laughed, "This is all thanks to my granddad. He was an artist, and a bloody rich one at that. Left me loads 'o money when he passed away. Good man."

When he opened the door to the next bedroom, Kala let out a squeal. Laughing, Wolfgang turned to the source.

On the wall of the bedroom was a lilac colored silhouette of a baby elephant with too-large ears standing on a cloud of by pink and purple swirls. It was surrounded by midnight blue decked with silver dots. Other colorful clouds decked the night sky, some of them a little hazy, as if they were drifting into a mist. On the other end of the room, near the door, was a black silhouette of a larger elephant.

"Did that when we had a Disney marathon," Leon explained. "You two can take this room, if you want," he added, winking at Wolfgang when he opened his mouth to ask how he knew. "I can know what sensate couples look like. You should see Gina and Henrik when they get back. Those two are insufferable."

Miki giggled. As Leon waltzed back into the hallway to lead them to the next bedroom, she put a hand on Wolfgang's shoulder, holding him and Kala back. "You should rest," she said, when Leon, Sun and Felix were out of earshot. "You're looking a bit pale. Mavis told me you were electrocuted?"

Wolfgang shrugged. Miki sighed and grabbed his hand, pulling him over until he conceded and sat on the bed. "I've got something for that," said Miki, standing up. "Wait here."

She went into the en-suite bathroom that they hadn't noticed was there, and came back with a small round jar. There was some kind of white paste inside.

"Lie down, bhediya," Kala said gently, and Wolfgang obliged. Miki gestured to his shirt. He reached to take it off, but it was hard when he was lying down, and the angle of his arm made his chest ache a little. He bit back a groan, and Kala sat on the bed and helped him pull off his gray cotton top.

The bruises from the paddles had mostly faded, save for a few contusions that looked a little green. Some of his veins were bulging slightly above his muscles.

"Impressive recovery," Miki noted, and Wolfgang suppressed the urge to groan again. Kala knew, from what memories he shared, that he was remembering the times a doctor would remark on his skin's amazing ability to patch itself quickly after every cut. "That's good news," continued the woman, who noted the change in his expression but thankfully decided not to pry. "This would have stung a bit if his bruises were still purple."

Miki nudged Kala in the elbow with the hand that held the jar of salve, raising an eyebrow as her other hand twisted the cap open. It smelled like an herbal concoction, but the smell was different from the large collection of herbs Kala was used to seeing in her father's kitchen. Kala furrowed her brows, trying to decipher the ingredients*.

"Did you make this?" she asked.

Miki nodded. "I like to experiment with herbal medicine. It's an Iñupiat thing."

"Like a tradition?"

"Yeah. My parents aren't really into it. But my grandma taught me."

"Are all the ingredients found in France?"

"Some are. But I also included some herbs native to Alaska, where I'm from."

"Are they perishable?"

Expired drugs are a big problem in pharmaceutical companies, she knew all too well, shaking the thought of her husband away with a pang of guilt. On the bed, Wolfgang frowned at her, and she shook her head, mouthing "it's nothing". It was a topic that they both knew they had to deal with eventually. But maybe later. Neither of them knew where to even start.

"They won't expire for another year, I think." Miki said, voice growing quieter. "I'm hoping it's enough to last until - well, you know."

Kala nodded, frowning.

"Anyway -" Miki said, standing up from where she sat on the bed, handing the open jar to Kala - "I'll leave you to it."

Upon hearing that, Wolfgang's frown turned into a smirk, making Kala's cheeks warm up. She hoped to Ganesha she wasn't visibly blushing.

Miki mirrored his smirk. "Unless you want me to -"

Kala snatched the jar from Miki's hands before she even finished the sentence, making Wolfgang chuckle. "Sorry," she apologized, and Miki laughed, raising a teasing eyebrow. "I got it. Thank you."

"Alright," the Inuk sing-songed, walking out. "I'll leave you to it."

When Kala dipped her fingers into the jar of salve, she noted it was minty. Her hand felt a little cold when the breeze from the open window drifted by. Slowly, she traced the bulging veins on Wolfgang's chest, her fingers circling around the fading scars, gliding across the green bruises. He hummed, content. She looked up to see he had closed his eyes.

"Good?"

He smiled, dimples appearing in his cheeks again. "Yes, doctor."

She laughed at that, before dipping her head down to kiss the places that she knew still hurt, one by one. The salve tasted bitter in her mouth, but his growl prompted her to kiss him some more.

"Better?"

A nod, before his smile widened. The small voice at the back of her mind was telling her the same lips had kissed another man barely a month earlier, and all the guilt she had suppressed came flooding back. It was lucky Wolfgang was on Blockers.

"Something wrong?" he asked, eyes still closed.

Kala was not as selfless as she once believed. She had suspected this for a long time, now.

"Just thinking," she lied, telling herself it would be the last time she ever did.

Nodding, Wolfgang's hand reached up to his face, and he grazed a calloused finger against his lips. He let out a content hum as his lip caught hers with a fervor, heat crashing against the cold. She savored this moment, in the hopes that it would give her another reason to do the right thing in the end. Because after being reunited with Wolfgang, she knew there was no way she could let him go again. No matter the consequences.

Someday soon, she would tell Rajan the truth and set herself free.

"I think it's time I teach you to shield your mind against sensate enemies, in light of the recent… developments at BPO," said Jonas.

Everyone, save for the four that ventured ahead to the next safe house, gathered around the living room of Kala's Paris flat. Sun and Kala visited to inform them that all are well at the new hideout, and the rest of the group would travel there the next day.

Will frowned. "The Blockers seem to be wearing off quicker for Riley and me. Whispers keeps trying to break in, I can feel it."

"Exactly," Mavis chipped in. "The in-between times are the worst. You know, when it's still all buzzing up here but you can sort of feel someone else's mind creeping in before you take another dose?" she gestured wildly around her head. "Yeah. Been there."

"The transition periods are when we are most susceptible to invasions," Jonas added. "The disorientation lowers your inhibition against Headhunters. It is usually then that they will choose to slip into your mind through a hint of your emotions."

"Can't we just push back into their memories?" asked Will.

Jonas nodded. "That is one possible way. I believe you have become familiar with this method of coping? I will say, it is also the more extreme method."

Will cringed, knowing too well the price he had to pay to barricade his mind. He tried to push the image of Whispers performing a lobotomy on his cluster-mate out of his memory.

Seeing his reaction, Amanita asked, "Is there a better way? One where they wouldn't get creepy recurring nightmares as a side-effect?"

"Yes! I am glad you asked," Mavis turned to Jonas, rubbing her hands together. "This should be fun -" then, turning to the group with a smirk - "you sure they're ready for this?"

"Ready for what?" asked Nomi.

"A memory loop," Jonas said, before Mavis could interject again. "Two related memories, connected by an element that draws them together."

Hernando frowned, looking back and forth between Jonas and a confused Lito. "Element?"

"Think about a tangible object, or sequence of action, that was present both times. When you know what memories you want to use, find that object or motif. Something symbolic enough to evoke a strong and identifiable emotion."

"Does it… Does it have to be a happy memory?" Lito's voice was quiet, and he looked down, gazing at nothing in particular.

"The most effective emotions to use in the loop are ones where there is growth behind the positive emotion," Jonas explained. "Something meaningful you have learned over the years that makes the second experience so similar, and yet so different, than the first."

"I'd say hindsight helps," Mavis added as she looked around and took in their blank stares. "Like, you get that second experience a few years, maybe even a few decades later. And then you remember the first time and go woah, here's something I missed. And it makes the memory that much deeper."

Will frowned. "Wouldn't that make things worse? Letting a Headhunter see something so personal?"

Jonas nodded. "Nothing can block out a sensate's mind presence in its entirety except Blockers. The memory loop and reverse invasion tactics should not be used in place of Blockers. They are your last resorts, should you find yourself in an interrogation with a Headhunter. These are the most effective ways to prevent another sensate from seeing the memory you are trying to hide."

"Would this work under the effects of the Traceworks?" Kala asked.

"I believe so. If the focus is strong enough, if you immerse yourself in the memories and concentrate on the emotions you experienced at that moment, it can provide some relief to the pain from electrocution. Enough to dull the Echo of the emotion behind the memory you were trying to hide, making it faint, harder for the Headhunter to identify."

Sun frowned. "What if you don't know which memories to choose."

"For most people, the two memories would take some time to find," Jonas said. "It's a slow process. But certainly something to think about as you go about your next few days."

"I -" Lito started, then paused, and exchanged a nod with Dani and Hernando - "I think I know. I have it."

"If anyone else thinks they have found their loop, this would be a good time to start. This skill is easiest to grasp when you're practicing with someone you trust."

From next to Amanita, Nomi leaned forward. "I'm ready, too."

"Before you start," Jonas added, "think of a third memory that you will try to hide from each other. Protect it."

The two of them sat back to back, a bedroom wall separating them from each other. The doors were closed to allow complete privacy, and they knew everyone was chatting in the living room, doing their best to keep their volume down. Jonas had said it was crucial that they learn to do this when it was quiet. In an interrogation room, the loudest noise would be the beeping of the Traceworks machine.

Nomi hugged her legs closer to her for comfort, leaning her head on top of her knees. Behind her, Lito's presence buzzed in her mind, inviting her consciousness to drift through the wall and see what he saw. By then it had become second nature to see through the same pair of eyes, and their minds navigated to fit around each other's. She could make out the lemon yellow walls of the room, the sunlight pouring through the open window.

You should probably block me out now, she reminded Lito.

He chuckled. You're an invader now. Right.

Lito squinted to focus on the beams of light on the wooden floor, taking Nomi's gaze away from what was outside the window. Warmth, she heard him think. Summer. It was summer.

There was the sound of footsteps. It came from behind her, accompanied by the sound of a young girl's laughter. Lito was running in a pair of oversized sandals, and Nomi was feeling the strain of his leg muscles. Dust crept in between his toes, making his skin itch, but all he wanted to do was keep running.

There was a narrow alley in front of him with many open doors and windows, and Lito ran past. As Nomi slipped into his body, she could smell the aroma of chili peppers wafting through the air, hear the sound of oil and meat sizzling against skillets.

Come on, Lito, there's a town to save!, shouted the girl as she ran past him, a blur of black and coral pink. Strands of hair were slipping out of the braid down her back that whipped left and right as she jumped over a hurdle of empty paper boxes lying on the street, the loosening bowtie at the end threatening to fall off with every leap.

Behind them, Nomi could make out the sound of a woman calling out from one of the open windows. Dios mío, María, get back here, you are ruining your best dress!

Nomi giggled, recalling María's ever-presence in memories of Lito's childhood. She had seen glimpses of her in Lito's mind over the past year. But this memory felt different.

María stuck out her tongue and grabbed Lito's hand. He ran alongside her until they reached the main road, where tourists and locals alike bustled along the roads looking for a restaurant to sit down and have a nice meal.

Lito pretended to check a watch on his wrist. Oh no! The bad guys are going to blow up the town in three minutes! We must hurry, Agent María!

Copy that, Agent Lito. She looked around, frowning as she mumbled, no, not that one, not that one… And then, There! she pointed at the restaurant with a crudely painted shopfront. A one story building with a flat roof, he noted. Fairly easy to climb.

Aha! he exclaimed. A very clever disguise for their base of operation. But not clever enough for us.

She smirked, one hand reaching into her pocket to pull out an imaginary gun, which she held firmly in her right hand. Shall we?

Nodding, he ran with her until they reached the painted red-and-yellow sign. The secret entrance is on that side, he whispered, glancing at the area where the dumpsters were. They rushed over and started climbing, ignoring the stench.

María's mother must have been furious, Nomi thought.

Lito chuckled, and everyone in the memory froze, pausing like a video on playback. She was.

Too late, the scene in front of him vanished, and he was looking at Hernando in the tiny bathroom at the Diego Rivera Museum, their bodies crashing against each other as his slippery hands grappled at the cotton shirt that had been plastered to his lover's body with sweat. Then he felt Nomi inhabit his body in the memory, looking up at the worn gray-blue paint on the ceiling, down at the gray tiles beneath his feet.

He let out a groan. Well played, Nomi.

She sent forth an emotion that Lito could only describe as smugness.

He latched on to that, and Nomi was launched back into the memory loop again, fast-forwarding until Lito and María had already climbed on the roof. The two friends fought back to back wearing identical smirks, kicking at imaginary villains left and right, pointing their hand guns at them, pretending to shoot.

Whoo! We saved the town! said María after a few minutes, tucking away her invisible weapons.

Then Lito around to face her. Nomi laughed upon a closer inspection of Lito's friend, hair matted with sweat and dirt with loose strands flying about, a gray handprint smeared across her right cheek. Lito chuckled, too, though he knew better than to let his focus slip this time round. He fixated his gaze on María, who was grinning with a missing front tooth, one strap of her dress slipping off her shoulder.

María drew herself closer to Lito, putting her hands on his shoulder, and looked at him, mischievous dark brown eyes widening.

What are you doing? he asked, laughing.

She shushed him. Don't ruin the moment, Lito.

What moment?

An exasperated sigh. This is where we kiss.

Uh - he took a step back, frowning. But why?

She pulled him closer again. You know, like in the movies! The boy and the girl realize they're perfect for each other. And they kiss.

But -

Lito paused, wondering why he didn't feel the same way. He had seen the ways the other boys in his neighborhood grinned and bragged about the girls they wooed, and he had prepared himself to feel the same. In the movies, the men would bring the ladies roses. And wear cologne, and a nice suit. When he asked if he could dress the same way, papá had said he wasn't old enough.

That must have been it. The heroes in the movies were all grown-ups. Maybe when he was older, he would want to kiss a girl. He would.

Come on, Lito, I'm waiting, María said again, tugging at his shirt.

I, uhh - he looked around, trying to think of a way out of this. But we're all sweaty.

It's like that in every movie, silly. It's more romantic that way.

He closed his eyes. Good boys tell the truth, his mama had said. But being honest was harder than he thought. What would María think, if he had told her he didn't want to kiss her? Would she still want to be friends?

Mama said that I - he closed his eyes, uttering a silent apology to mama - I am not to kiss until I am older.

She frowned. How old?

In his mind, he breathed a sigh of relief. I have to wait until I marry.

Aww, she whined, but conceded, letting go of Lito. But that's gonna take years.

Sorry, María, he mumbled, averting her eyes.

She shrugged, before she looked down at her muddy outfit and started giggling, ever the optimist. Well, I do need time to find a good wedding dress. Because this one is definitely wrecked.

He laughed along as they climbed down and raced each other home, and pretended to forget about his lie, hoping it was a one-time thing.

When Nomi heard the thumping of footsteps again, she found herself running down a street with a green carpet, cameras and microphones and too-bright lights looming overhead. She — no, Lito — was wearing all black, blending in with the darkness around him, and a woman dressed in the same camouflage was running beside him. They climbed up the fire escape ladders on the side of the six-story building and brought themselves into the thick of the epic battle on the rooftop, fighting back-to-back, kicking and shooting prop guns at the masked villains.

It was his favorite movie to shoot, because it was the only one where he fought alongside the girl instead of saving her. María had always insisted girls could be heroes, too. Even as she had grown older, as she had learned to take better care of her dresses, to talk and act "like a proper lady", the impish glint in her eyes never vanished.

They remained friends for years until he moved to Mexico City to kickstart his movie career. Whenever he came home, his aunties would tell him to consider asking María's hand in marriage. You're a perfect match, they'd said.

But he had stopped himself before he had a chance to knock on her door, run away from the village where he grew up and never looked back. He had already accepted that it was not a matter of age that stopped him from kissing her before, but a matter of the heart. And he couldn't lie to his best friend a second time.

His consciousness had slipped back to the Paris flat, and it was only when Nomi visited him, patting him on the shoulder, that he opened his eyes.

"Hey. It was the right thing to do," she reassured.

He nodded. "I know." Then, smiling, "I had my first date with Hernando in the Diego Rivera Museum a month after."

She smiled back.

"Sometimes," he continued, "sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't stopped in front of the door. If I had proposed to her that day."

"You wouldn't have met Hernando."

"Now I can't imagine life without him."

"What about her?" she asked. "Have you ever…"

"I couldn't." He buried his face in his hands. "I don't know what I would even say. What could I say? That I lied to her?"

"I think you should find her when this is over."

"I'm scared, Nomi," he confessed. "She was my best friend. I don't know if I'll be able to move past it if -" he choked back a sob - "it's too hard."

She put her arm around him. "Whatever you choose, you won't have to do it alone."

* My lovely beta LettersfromLaika has kindly educated me on medicinal plants. (I am lazy so I will quote her directly.) If you're wondering what could have been in Miki's magical ointment, these are the most likely candidates:

Labrador Tea: for aches and the like. Also drunk for funsies. A wee bit toxic in large quantities.

Seal Fat: Pretty much the Inuit cure-all - also a nice readily available fat. You can boil it, eat it and use it as an ointment.

Pine tree gum from the inner soft bit of bark: (if not too far north i.e. no trees) - prevents infections.

And I would like to credit this website as well: it's the Avataq Cultural Institute website, and the title starts with "Every Inuit knew the rudiments of traditional medicine". You should be able to locate it via Google :)

(I don't think this website lets me publish the direct link, so I apologize for the format.)

A/N:

So yeah. A sensate Airbnb run by a cluster-family of OCs. Don't worry about making a character list (unless you REALLY want to, in which case I'd love to see it). This cluster's one of the last character-dumps in this story. They'll be with us till the end :)

AAAAND a special shoutout to Savay ( fiftyeightminutes on tumblr) for being my sensitivity reader, you are the best *hugs*. They wrote so many fics for this fandom, and there's something for everyone! Go check out their work!

P.S. Interesting factoid: according to various sources on the internet, Miki is an Inuit name which means "small", and I think that's adorable :)

P.P.S. A trivia question, for those of you who are into this kind of thing: which character (major or minor, canon or OC) had been shown to use the memory loop before in this story? And in which chapter?