The only scheduled daily commitment Cedric had was his Dark Arts and Wicked Wizardry class, which didn't meet until after lunch hour. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays also had committed tutoring sessions, but those weren't until even later than DAWW was. Technically, Cedric really should have gone to his Independent Study "class" in the morning at some point, but given that Layton was now technically directing his thesis on artifacts and that Layton taught in the mornings, and Cedric preferred researching by candlelight, well… He nearly always intended to get up at a reasonable hour, but it wasn't exactly unusual that Cedric arrived to Professor Miller's class still considerably groggy from sleep.

"Glad you could join us, Mister Sorciere," Professor Miller's voice came from the front of the room, light and feminine but sharply edged with… sarcasm? Accusation?

Cedric glanced at the clock on the wall, which read the time he thought it had - a minute before the hour - but asked anyhow, "Am I late, Professor?" Had the schedule been changed, and he hadn't been aware? Had there been a notice that he'd missed? Was he not supposed to be here today, had class been canceled? Had-

"What?" The professor asked, then shook her head. "No, I'm just. Hello. Now go sit down." She waved a hand towards the back of the room, where Cedric's seat was.

Normally, Prof. Miller's brusque demeanor was a nice change of pace - unlike a lot of other folks at Hexley Halls and in his life in general, she didn't sugarcoat, she didn't put on a pleasant face when she didn't mean it. Given her sense of style was as dark and sharp as she was and that her first name was Regina, not to mention that she taught Dark Arts and Wicked Wizardry, (often shortened to DAWW) of all classes, meant that The Evil Queen was one of her kinder student-given nicknames. Others liked to play around with rhyming 'witch'.

So, honestly, Cedric felt a sort of kinship, a sort of attachment… something like a schoolboy crush, at times, admiring how she was able to be as confident and strict as she was, and yet respected, at least, if not many students' favorite.

But then there were times, as now, when Cedric felt like he was missing something. As he went to take his seat, he glanced around, and it didn't seem like there were any more looks his way than usual, really. It definitely felt like he'd walked in on a discussion about himself, but that was… probably unlikely? He knew, he knew that he was paranoid beyond reason that folks were talking about him, criticizing his style, his hair, perhaps a stain he hadn't noticed, something embarrassing stuck to his back, anything, really.

But there was a grain of truth to be had, there. Nothing could be dismissed, because any of it could be the time it was true.

The first half of the hour was, as usual, lecture. Cedric tried to take notes, but as usual he tried to write down too much information, got lost on what the teacher was saying, tried to consolidate, ended up writing nearly nothing after a certain point… He listened and understood what was being said after that point much better, but he'd have no way to remember it. Before that point, he had no idea what any of the notes he had taken down were about, because even that much had been mostly in support of the audible lecture, which he'd missed understanding given he was trying to take down notes.

Trying to puzzle out just what Miller meant with that greeting overlaid some of Cedric's listening, though, so even that much was something of a waste, today. Which was just. Delightful.

What was not usual was that the second half of the hour would not be spent practicing small spells against inanimate targets or defending against enchanted statuettes that would fire off small spells, or even the small matches versus one another. "Today, and for the next two weeks," Professor Miller said to her students, as folks Cedric didn't recognize filed into the classroom, "you'll be learning with the Templar class, from Pendragon Academy. You will respect them, and appreciate the opportunity this gives. Partner yourselves up, one from each class. Today's sparring will just see where relative power levels are. Don't disappoint me."

All of the students from Pendragon seemed so… muscular. Even the girls, though there didn't seem to be many of them, were more physically fit than most folks Cedric had seen his own age. It wasn't surprisingly, logically, that a knight's school would focus on physical training, at least largely. But Cedric knew for a fact that the templar variety didn't do as much weight lifting or the like as your garden-variety knights… Whatever the case, it was still rather daunting to have to approach any of these people. They were apparently all around his own age, given the years in Pendragon didn't work much differently than Hexley, if he recalled correctly, but the confidence they seemed to carry themselves with made them seem older (and if he was honest, more attractive, though that wasn't especially a good thing compared to his sickly scrawny hide).

One person from the crowd stood out to Cedric, though, and despite his apprehension he found himself approaching a student about a head taller than him and had a scar across the bridge of his nose and a dark head of hair… mostly, aside from bangs that were swept to one side and, notably, white.

"E-excuse me?" Merlin's mushrooms, what Cedric wouldn't do to smooth out his words when he was nervous. It really didn't help matters. Before he could stutter too much more, though, the - boy? Young man? ...Masculine person of some age or variety- turned around and looked at Cedric with with a minor double-take.

"Shiro," said the young knight- there we go, that's the descriptor- as he stuck out his hand. It took Cedric a moment to remember to shake it and answer his name in return.

And then they… just stared at each other for a moment. The longer the silence drew on, the more Awkward Cedric felt, the more he felt like he should just say something already, but at least it was good to know that apparently the other lad didn't know what to say, either.

"So, ah, was yours accidental or intentional?" Shiro seemed to finally manage.

Cedric scoffed. "I enjoy having my failure marked into my physical being, it's a point of pride." ...That was absolutely the best tactic to take here. Wonderful.

Shiro only rolled his eyes. "Mine wasn't intentional either, though not something I did myself. I can't actually remember the day of the accident, but Cordelia said it wasn't a pretty sight."

Cedric's eyes widened a bit as he drew a long breath, a halted gasp. The chances he'd know her weren't exactly astronomical given, but it was still something to learn they were both connected to-

"Oh, Ceddy!" called a too-familiar voice, causing Cedric to flinch a bit. He didn't want to acknowledge her presence, but his younger sister Cordelia bounded up out of the thick of the crowd regardless. "Ceddy, there you are! I wasn't sure you'd be in the class we were going to train with, but I was definitely hoping you would be!" She even gave him what was probably supposed to be a friendly punch on the shoulder.

Ugh, Cedric didn't have the spoons for this. "Could you not do that," he said, pushing her away from himself, though thankfully she didn't need much urging. "We've apparently got to deal with each other for an entire fortnight. I'd appreciate if you spread the torment a little thinner."

Cordelia backed up a bit, muttering apologies, but startled as she noticed who Cedric had been talking to. "Oh! You've met my boyfriend, Shiro! Haha, good times…" She grabbed Shiro's arm and wrapped her own around it, causing him to stiffen a bit- but grin, if somewhat… strangely?

More importantly, though, Cedric wanted to know- "Since when have you had a boyfriend?"

"Why wouldn't I have a boyfriend!" Cordelia said, a little too quickly, too emphatically. "I like boys!"

Tilting his head to one side in minor confusion, Cedric said, "...I didn't question that."

"Oh. Uh." Cordelia laughed… nervously, was it? And shrugged. "Haha, yeah, I guess you didn't… A while then, I guess."

Cedric crossed his arms and huffed a sigh. "Well, one of us understands privacy, so don't worry, Mum and Father won't get word of this, regardless of anything else."

That didn't seem to be quite the right response, though, given Cordelia was waving Shiro's arm frantically at this point, saying, "No, no it's okay! Please, definitely, tell them I've got a boyfriend! Like any normal teenage girl would!"

...What? What!? Cedric was trying to form any kind of response, trying not to sputter incoherently, but hadn't expected such a direct attack from Cordelia, who certainly wasn't his favorite person but at least seemed to 'humor' his identity, at worst. Or so he'd thought.

Without the words to retaliate, though Cedric couldn't… couldn't be there any more. He couldn't deal with this. So he turned around and found someone else to deal with instead.

So Cedric skirted around the edge of the crowd of students, pretending like he'd have the nerve to approach anyone else at this point… though there were certain students who seeme unrealistically tough, and provided good incentive for trying to choose his own sparring partner before he was the last one left and was stuck with the knight-in-training left. It was nice to note, at least, that the most musclebound student of the group, tall and broad with thick curly blond hair, was already engaged in conversation with T.S. From what little Cedric could hear over the din, it sounded like the two knew each other - they were making jokes (probably) about being liege and champion. Cedric stopped listening in before he became too nauseous, though at least that provided teasing fodder for next club meeting.

Most of these students looked so intimidating, though, and honestly Cedric had spent his allotted daily socializing energy, and then some, on that previous approach and the following encounter, so it wasn't very surprising that he ended up as the last student to be paired from Hexley. And of course his luck was that the last student from Pendragon was… well, it wasn't Cordelia, at least, nor anyone he knew, but this blond- not really a boy, or a man, or a guy. Teen? This blond teenager of some description reminded Cedric of his least favorite parts of Greylock, with none of the endearing qualities.

"Howdy there!" said Cedric's sparring partner, "The name's Hank, but you can call me… The Bat." To, ah, emphasize? the name, the blond put his hands beside his head, with his index fingers held out and the rest curled in-giving more the impression of horns than anything Cedric would associate with flying rodents.

As such, it took Cedric a moment of blinking before he could respond. "Cedric, at your service, though I think I'll call you 'Hank' if it's all the same to you."

*Hank gave Cedric a look that the latter couldn't decipher, something like surprised and… intense? Intense wasn't an emotion, but that was the best Cedric could do to describe it… anyhow, gave Cedric a look, and said, "But my dude, they're not the same. One is 'Hank,' and one is 'The Bat.'"

Cedric expected more after that, but… nothing. "All… right." Was this boy just being intentionally irritating, or did he feel that strongly about being called something else? As much as it seemed silly to Cedric, he also knew what others thought of him and his own choice of name… But given that he was being asked to be called not just after an animal but with a 'the' at the beginning, it felt very… trivializing. Merlin's mushrooms, Cedric got enough of that from everywhere else.

That last thought cemented it for Cedric, though, and he said, "Well, Hank… en garde." Some of the other student pairs had already started their bouts, so Cedric felt no remorse in throwing what was honestly a rather cheap shot at Hank for accidentally insulting Cedric in a roundabout way that Hank almost certainly didn't even realize. Being petty had its merits.

With an early advantage like that, Cedric was actually doing pretty well against this fellow, both sending offensive spells his way and usually dodging or blocking the boy's return blows, be they with his bamboo sword or the odd magical effect. It… was notably difficult, especially since Cedric wasn't especially in the habit of dodging, but he was managing.

Given Hank was largely on the defensive, he apparently saw fit to try to rile Cedric into irrationality. "C'mon, that barely even hurt!" he said, and "I eat spells like these for breakfast, dorkasaurus! ...Well, actually I usually skip breakfast, but you know what I mean." Largely it was too silly to be effective, though that in itself did drive Cedric to dislike this boy further- there was really only so much emotional energy he could handle from people in a day, and both of his two friends already filled that quota quite well.

"What was that," Hank said again, and Cedric started to roll his eyes preemptively. "Geez, you hit like a girl."

The moment that Cedric hesitated was enough to get broadsided by- Hank was attacking with his shield? That was... A thing one could do? At any rate, Cedric stumbled backwards, and took a breath to cast his return spell-

-but before he did, a student near them, engaged in their own diagnostic duel but apparently doing well enough to pay attention to other bouts, said "Dude, you really shouldn't say stuff like that."

Both Hank's and Cedric's eyes turned towards the speaker, who Cedric… vaguely recognized from class, but had never interacted with really, and couldn't remember her name. She'd been slightly behind and to one side of Hank, so he'd had to turn his body to face her; Cedric had already been largely facing her, so didn't have to acknowledge he was paying attention. Hank asked, "Stuff like wh-oh, uh, not that girls can't be pretty kick-ass too. Sorry, I guess?"

"Dude, no. Well, that too but like-" Hank was still facing this girl for the most part, and Cedric took the opportunity to get in another cheap shot, and ideally provide a distraction for where he was nearly sure this girl's comment was going… or tried. Hank did some sort of anti-spell thing, and Cedric's missile fizzled into nothingness when it contacted the boy's shoulder. The girl continued, "She-he got some kid expelled for calling him the 'wrong' things. Nearly landed a prefect on the same carriage back home."

Why, Cedric wondered. He didn't know this girl from Eve. And here she was, just, going on… "Like I know you're not from this school-" she dodged a jab from her sparring partner- "but honestly his parents are powerful and just don't even touch that." It was just… wonderful to be reminded of that, by a near stranger. Why did this stranger even care.

Hank nodded to the girl, said, "Whatever you say, my dude," and gave her a wink and… pantomimed a flintlock with each of his hands, for some reason. Then, finally, he turned back to Cedric, and said, "Sorry for the off guard moment. Time to get back on guard, dude!"

There… was a snarky comment, somewhere, about misunderstanding words and languages. Cedric could tell that much. He didn't especially care to make that comment, or even to find what it was - which itself was somewhat notable to Cedric, a signal that he was going to be very not okay in not a very long time, but the metaphorical alarum bell seemed far away within his head.

Given that Cedric couldn't muster the snarky comment, he certainly didn't have the reaction time, or willpower, or any necessary ingredients to block Hank's next move, or the one after. At best, he raised his wand and offered a feeble counterspell, but that was dodged and Hank had used the momentum of that motion to knock Cedric off his feet.

From his position on the floor, Cedric finally managed, "I yield, I… I yield." He started to sit back up and realized he'd thumped his head on the way down. Delightful. Bruises and scorch marks were one thing, and helpful in their way, but headaches were just annoying. Just… why.

Cedric was vaguely aware of Hank taking his hand and pulling him back up, and asking if he was okay. Merlin, what a question. Cedric couldn't, quite form the words in his mouth at the moment, so he made do with waving a hand about in a vaguely dismissive manner. Apparently, this was not the right answer, and he was prodded in the back-or, no, that was probably meant to be a friendly gesture, at this point, but Cedric jumped at the contact all the same, and was led back to the seating area of the large classroom.

Things continued happening around him for a few minutes, but largely he couldn't be bothered to do anything but sit and stare at nothing, really. Or, well, staring implied intent, whereas Cedric wasn't looking at anything so much as through it. Someone could have waved a hand in front of his face and it's doubtful he'd have noticed, though thankfully no one did.

The next thing that Cedric noticed was that Cordelia was here, and talking to Hank. Cordelia was at least a foot shorter than the boy, but the way her index finger pushed against the center of his chest, and the palms-out position Hank had his hands… There was some sort of conclusion to be drawn from this, but Cedric wasn't getting it, quite right now.

"...guess she was right," Cordelia was saying, though Cedric didn't know what words had preceded that. "Do. Not. Screw. Around. With. Sorcieres." She paused, and added, "Uh, that is, the family. I know it sounds like 'sorcerer' but hey, that's because they named the job after us! So, even if I weren't at PA Daddy could probably get stuff done." Cordelia withdrew her finger and put her hand to her chin instead, and fluttered her eyelashes for effect. "But it turns out that I am here. So really, just don't." She grinned, reached out to push Hank in the chest again, and then skipped off.

All Cedric could think was why, though he wasn't even sure at what part, exactly. Everything, maybe.

Time felt like it was dripping by, like the last bits of honey from a ladle, like every tick of the second hand was paid for in - what was this, honestly? His head hurt a bit from the fall, but that wasn't the source… It wasn't… this wasn't a unique thing to happen. He wasn't dying, probably, at least not any more than any other time. This wasn't pain, exactly, it just sucked. Was this even real?

The clanging of the bell jolted Cedric out of his own head a bit, and he managed to find his way back to his dorm room, apparently, though Cedric wasn't sure he remembered getting there. He hadn't been carried, surely; he'd be on his bed, right? Instead, Cedric found himself standing, leaning against his desk. Apparently he'd summoned Wormwood without realizing it, too.

Cedric pulled out the chair and sat at his desk, looking at his hands. After several moments, he was again looking through things rather than at them, though this time with half a sense of the direction his gaze was pointing, at least… He put his hands down on the desk, and lightly drummed the fingers of one hand in an interesting pattern, and he could feel the moment when the fingers would make contact with the polished wood of the desk… but there was some kind of disconnect. After a few moments, he stopped noticing that sensation, too, as he focused on the pattern of the drumming. One-two-three-four-five, one-two-three-four, one-two-three, one-two, one. One, one-two, one-two-three… and on.

The tick-tick-tick of the small wall clock filled the quiet room, and eventually managed to wrench away Cedric's attention in that he could not manage to make his drumming line up with the clockwork sounds. He clenched his fists for a moment, then picked up the closest thing to hand - an inkwell, unfortunately - and hurled it at the clock.

The ceramic inkwell shattered as it hit the wall, a good foot away from the offending clock, and stained the wall with ink. Not that it could look much worse than the scorch marks remind him of the Tea Incident. Would this count as another thing to be reminded of? The… words… What were words, anyway, and what would it matter if it didn't have A Name? Or did a thing not properly exist if it didn't have a name? Would picking the wrong name for something… affect its being?

...Was 'Cedric' the right name? Or could any name be correct for him, honestly. Most people, normal people, don't just get to pick their own names. You are who you are, and you're stuck with it. Which made Cedric just a- … which made… Lizzie just a girl who wanted to get ahead in life and be a boy, not deal with sexism because opting out was obviously an option, and then make a big fuss about it because she wanted the attention.

Cedric wanted to contradict himself on this, this was literally just Father's rhetoric to get him to be a normal girl again. 'Again,' like he'd ever… But the crux of the matter was that it was hard to just dismiss out of hand. He was happier like this, and well, no he didn't appreciate the sort of 'attention' he got- especially not from- Cedric couldn't even remember his name, he'd tried not to remember the boy who'd helped Sascha try to 'prove' that Cedric, that Lizzie really was just a girl, in their own room no less-

Not this room. And Greylock wouldn't do that. Either Greylock saw Cedric as a dude, or Greylock saw him as a girl after all and wouldn't be even vaguely interested. ...Honestly, it was probably somewhere between, which… hurt. He knew Greylock didn't think of Cedric like he did other boys, not just from demeanor but he'd basically admitted as much last Couple's Day.

Honestly, why did he even bother? Cedric put his hands on his face and leaned forward, digging his fingertips into his closed eyes to the point of pain. His best friend, his only friend for a considerable amount of time - his… irritating, awful, favorite person in the world, honestly- only dealt with Cedric because they were the only two boys in the school were were Unnatural in this particular way, and even Greylock only half saw him as a boy. Only tolerated his identity, though at least he seemed to do so by choice. Cedric's fingers pushed a bit harder and curled inward, as he imagined a rather gorier scene, something that would hurt and scar and distract him from the utter futility of everything he tried.

At least Sofia… probably didn't question. But if some stranger from DAWW knew the rumor mill enough to drag it all up and dump it on that knight fellow, Cedric couldn't remember his name, or what he looked like, was it a he? Had he fought against a girl or a boy? Cedric couldn't remember- if that stranger had known that much, then did Sofia know? Was she just being polite? Being commoner-born, would something like that be more or less foreign to her? Of course, there was Professor Layton, who'd been pivotal in Cedric's own, own identity quest, he guessed? And the Professor was commoner-born himself, but had made his way into Scholarly Society through force of will, Cedric supposed… Which left Cedric little idea what was considered normal, regarding trans folk and the classes. Merlin, Merlin, why was that the only curse he could think of today, Merlin why was everything so hard.

But… but either Sofia knew, and hadn't changed her behavior towards him according to that information- which, honestly, seemed unlikely, most even well-meaning, ah, non-trans people that Cedric was aware of slipped up at least a little once it came out that he was, in fact… well, the way he was. So that left that Sofia didn't know yet, thankfully- so she saw him as wholly and completely male, which would, probably become an issue at some point but it was… nice, for now. Even if the only reason that she did was because she didn't know all the facts yet. And that's how it would always be, wouldn't it? He'd never have a chance to just rest. Always, for the rest of his life… Why must things be so difficult, why can't he just say 'actually, I'm of the masculine persuasion' and be done with it.

Why did he bother with anything. He tried, and tried… but his 'best' was always somewhat worse than everyone else's 'average,' and it was incredibly difficult to just sit down and accept that 'failure' is a defining characteristic of oneself.

Cedric looked up at his scorched cabinet, and huffed something like a laugh to himself. "Honestly," he said to- Wormwood was there, right. "Where are the herbs when you need them, right?" He reached out a hand and stroked the glossy black feathers of Wormwood's back, then startled the faux bird by scooping it onto his lap and holding it there. Even a fake bird couldn't tolerate that for long, though, and wriggled out of Cedric's hands in short order- and even seemed offended, possibly because Cedric had been thinking of it in terms of 'it' pronouns and being not-a-real-bird. Funny how that worked, having a mental connection and all.

After that, Cedric's mind became cloudy again, forgetful and unaware. He had literally no idea how long he'd been sitting there when Greylock came in from his own classes.

The key scritched in the door's lock, caught, and turned, allowing Greylock to turn the knob and kick it open. Given the hand on said knob, (dirty jokes aside,) that was clearly unnecessary… but it was fun, and no one was ever here to mind.

The door banged against the inside wall, startling Cedric enough to jerk and allow Greylock to notice him. Apparently, Grey had been wrong. Odd. "Didn't mean to scare you, Sedgwick!" he said as he tromped over to his own side of the room. "Figured you'd be studying in the tower, I was about to head there myself- just wanted to swap some books. How's things, what's got you here instead?"

There was a beat, and another, before Cedric responded, "Why…"

"Well, if there's a dragon nesting in your tower, I'd prefer not to study there," Greylock responded, continuing to load the contents of his bookbag onto his bed.

Again, Cedric's voice floated across the room, "Wh-hy-hyy…" It sounded significantly less like a laugh than a feeble sob, which caught Greylock's attention and he looked at Cedric, really looked at him.

Cedric's hands lay palm-up on the desk, slightly curled inward. They and Wormwood were the only things on the desk, no school supplies or study materials. In fact, it was notable that Wormwood was summoned in the room and not on his perch, but that was probably less important than the glazed-over look of Cedric's face, staring at his hands, mouth hanging just slightly open.

"Cedric," Greylock started, despite the sudden pit in his stomach, "are you okay?"

The soft response, just "No," wasn't surprising given Cedric's body language, but it still saddened Greylock to hear it confirmed.

"Is there any way I could help?" Not that Greylock could do a whole lot… "If you need quiet, I can leave."

"No," Cedric said, then a moment later, "Or, ah, yes. You can." Another moment of silence, then, "Stay. That is. I'd… appreciate it."

Greylock huffed something between a small laugh and a relieved sigh, and said, "Absolutely." So he resumed rearranging his books, though more carefully, more quietly. He eventually started trying to read one of his text books, though it was kind of difficult to focus on the text while he was worrying about Cedric, what had happened, or had it? Was it just a bad episode for no special reason? That had happened before, Greylock thought, but he wasn't sure.

As such, Greylock wouldn't even call it an interruption when Cedric managed to speak up again, "Actually…"

Not that Greylock wouldn't have been willing to put down his studies had he managed to start, but now he didn't even bother to finish the sentence he was on before closing the book and looking up at Cedric.

"Sorry to…" Cedric started, still looking at his hands, then sighed and closed his eyes. "I could use a hug."

After blinking for a moment in surprise, Greylock responded, "Are you sure?" Not that that hadn't been Grey's first instinct, but- "I know you don't tend to like being touched, especially when you're in a state. Yes or no answer is fine." Given aforementioned state and the word difficulty associated with it.

Cedric huffed a small laugh and finally moved, turned his head a bit to look at Greylock before returning to face-forward position. "Greylock, you… you're safe. You've always been helpful, even if I… sometimes whine like a child about it. You've always been here to…" He took a breath, in, and out, then continued, "To help, to drag me out of- whatever.. Whatever this is… you ah-" He closed his eyes again, and turned a little away from Greylock this time, but continued, "You don't have to if you'd rather not, I suppose it's rather odd to request a hug, isn't it? That's not how that works, it's supposed to just hap-"

Cedric's words were cut off in surprise as Greylock scooped him up from his desk chair, one hand at Cedric's back and the other under his knees, and carried him the few feet to Cedric's bed. Greylock sat Cedric down gingerly, keeping one hand behind his dear friend's back as Grey retrieved his other hand from beneath Cedric's knees, so that he could wrap it around Cedric's chest in a tight hug.

Ater some several moments, Greylock loosened his grip and leaned back away from Cedric, and said, "I'm sorry if that was too tight, Cedric, I suppose I got caught up in the moment." And had been using all of his willpower to stop himself from adding a kiss on the side of Cedric's head, or neck, or anywhere- Cedric definitely didn't need to add dealing with Greylock's awful crush on top of whatever else was wrong.

"No, don't apologize," Cedric said perhaps a bit breathlessly, "that- helped. I am- I am here and you-" Cedric was looking mostly at Greylock, probably not actually making eye contact but looking at least in the direction of Greylock's face, and their faces were very close… And more importantly, Cedric didn't have that faraway look he'd had before, and he was smiling, if faintly. Greylock felt his own face breaking into a rather larger smile, then felt Cedric pulling him into another hug. It would be nice if Greylock could hug away all of Cedric's problems, but he was happy that he could hug away even one.

A/N: attempting NaNo again! I'm in a bad spot this year and off to a less than ideal start, so idk how far I'll get. (a decent amount of this was written before November, so it doesn't actually count, haha.) Anyway, thanks to anyone who's still reading!