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Albaro's childhood was fuzzy -- he remembers his mother asking him to smith with her when he got older and stumbling across some shrooms. He didn't know it was wrong, he was too innocent, and he remembers he dealt some drugs out to the town until there were no more shrooms in sight. People saw him carrying shrooms, and asked him for them. They told him it took them to their "happy place" and that they "weren't bad." He had a few customers, May, June, Hope, and Mary, mainly. When his mother finally told him that they "tripped out" and that they were indeed drugs, Albaro was so filled with guilt that he decided to redeem himself by becoming a medic.

He remembers he often stumbled across a young lady, working hurriedly to make pads, since there were only empty bowls and dirtied pads strewn about the clinic at the time. He tried to talk to her, but she ignored him and never spoke. He watched from afar as she worked busily by the fire, hand crafting pad after pad and making a few balls of thread. He passed inside to craft a couple things every so often, and other times he stuck by the berry farm, repairing the damage the town had caused to the bushes.

He remembers hearing lots of screams, and he remembers his family telling him "they're just playing tag." He remembers a couple of people running and screaming wildly, he remembers his uncle and aunt telling him that it was just "red food dye" and not anything else. When he asked them why everyone with the red food dye was dying, they never had an answer. He assumed they ate too much food dye.

"Watch out for Gilbert," he remembers everyone warning him. He was scared. Who was Gilbert? He'd seen him once, he was running slowly with a knife dipped in red food dye with a mob of people behind him. They looked fearful, but his family assured him they were just "surprised." They told him to stay away from Gilbert though, or he might end up like them.

He remembers more people being able to survive after they wandered into the clinic with red food dye stuck to their clothes. The young lady would silently heal them and they'd run back out, unlike before, back when the town had no pads or anything for stitching. He was curious. He learned the basics of medical knowledge by watching the lady, who he later learned was named Dee, and it seemed as if he had an acute sense of medical knowledge, as if he'd done it before. But that was impossible, right? He'd never done anything in regards to medicine before this.

Eventually, "Gilbert" became a thing of the past. However, there were more Gilberts to come, many people kept wandering into the clinic with red food dye matting up their hair and features, and complaining about someone or another -- everyone was not to be trusted, and little Albaro was terrified. Could he not trust his Mom and his aunt and uncle? Could he not trust Dee, who had healed everyone thus far? It appeared not, for she spoke for the first time and it sent a chill down his spine.

Her voice was deep and cold, a simmering, bubbling rage deep within it. If her voice could be a color, it'd be black as the deepest night, as the darkest coal, as the infinite cosmos. For the first time, he feared Dee instead of looking up to her.

People seemed to fear her as well. People yelled at her and scolded her, although she had done nothing but heal and protect. They called her a murderer and someone sick in the head. Albaro asked his family what "murderer" meant and they told him they didn't want to "corrupt his mind." Eventually, he learned that a murderer was someone who hurt people.

But Dee was nice. She would never hurt anyone, he was sure of it. There was no doubt in his mind that Dee would never hurt a single person in the village. While the rest of the villagers shouted and cursed at her, calling her a "cursed bitch" and a bunch of horrible, nasty things, he'd quietly sneak into the clinic and silently help her work, ignoring the chaos outside.

Another boy, December, eventually joined in and helped make more medical supplies. He seemed to trust Dee as well, and assured Albaro that she was a good person. He knew she was. Not only was she good and hard-working, she was also very pretty, and before Albaro knew it, she had caught his eye. He could not stop looking at her as she gracefully worked at a quick pace, hurriedly healing everyone who came in with the red dye on their clothing.

He occasionally helped her, often he was out when someone who was hurt came in, but sometimes he'd pitch in when he saw someone far from the clinic. People were angry at him.

"You're retarded, trusting a cursed person? I hope she stabs you," they'd say. When he asked them what "stabbed" or "cursed" or "retarded" meant, they'd continue to insult him, driving him to tears. Everyone was angry at him, December, and Dee, and he couldn't understand why. Dee would never hurt anyone, he was sure of it. Those people were off their heads. Dee was nice, and innocent, and had never hurt anyone in her life.

"Dee, why are people mad?" he asked her, innocent eyes staring into her cold, dark ones. He'd sworn they'd soften every time he talked to her, a thing that made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He was growing impossibly attached to her, and she looked a bit... guilty? He didn't understand.

"They're ungrateful," she told him. "I healed everyone." A short answer, but he didn't mind. He wasn't sure whether it was because he didn't like the sound of her scary, deep voice, or because he liked to hear anything as long as it came from her. He was beginning to love her.

By this time, they were well into adulthood and the murders had begun to dwindle. It was very rare now when someone would come in, crying for help and spurting red dye, which Albaro later learned, to his horror, was something called blood. He cried when he learned this, he didn't know that they were actually in danger. He didn't want anyone ever getting hurt again.

A man called Ted was very angry at them. Probably the angriest of them all. He'd shout and threaten Dee, and Albaro pleaded him to be Dee's friend. Dee even offered friendship to him, but her deep voice must have scared him off because he shouted "No" and grabbed a bow. It happened too fast for Albaro to process, an arrow was in his hand, and suddenly, it was aimed at Dee.

Albaro had an instinct, one he couldn't understand, and he ran in front of Dee, spreading his arms out in defense. Dee had the same idea, and simply ran far away. The arrow missed both of them and landed in the spot where Dee had just been.

For the first time in his life, Albaro had felt something other than sadness or happiness. He felt... anger.

"Don't you dare hurt Dee!!!" he screamed at Ted, picking up the arrow and stuffing it into his own backpack. He was so angry. His mind went somewhere it shouldn't have. What if Ted got hurt? It seemed like a good idea. And he'd do anything for Dee...

No! He would never hurt anyone, and Dee wouldn't either! No one was going into that clinic ever again. But he was wrong...

Dee grabbed Ted in one swift movement and plunged her knife into his stomach. Ted recoiled and cursed, limping towards the clinic. Albaro was horrified. He looked at Dee, her face was unrecognizable. It was covered with blood, and she looked... satisfied. But the expression faded quickly as she rushed to the clinic as fast as she could, to find Ted had been completely healed.

Everyone had turned against Dee at that point. Why!? Ted was the one who tried to hurt her. He didn't understand. Perhaps he was too innocent, or perhaps he simply didn't want to know why Dee's voice was so deep. Either way, he pleaded them to forgive Dee and told them it was only in self-defense.

"I thought Dee was good, but I just don't know anymore," December told him, blankly, when he tried to defuse the situation. Ouch. It hit him like a ton of rocks. Why? He was saying that about Dee, not him. But still, it hurt. December wasn't going to work with them anymore. But Albaro knew he would always be there. He would always support, defend, and help Dee, because he knew now that he was in love with her. He had tried to deny it, but he knew now that it was the truth.

"Please, Ted, can you be Dee's friend?" Albaro pleaded Ted. Ted looked disgusted, and somehow, Albaro knew there was a good reason for this.

"NO."

"We can be friends," Dee smirked, offering her friendship as well. Why did it seem sarcastic?

Ted responded by plunging a knife into her chest.

"FUCK!" Dee yelled, and all three of them rushed to the clinic. While Ted tried to get the people inside to leave Dee to die, Albaro put his skills to use by dabbing the blood from Dee's frail, pained form, and stitching her wound up. As soon as she was healed, her grimace turned into an expression of such immense cold that Albaro backed away a bit. Instantly, Ted was stabbed. Everyone hurriedly attempted to heal him, and Albaro knew he had to do something. He couldn't let Ted hurt Dee.

I'm sorry, Ted... he thought as he grabbed the last remaining ball of thread and shoved it into his backpack, leaving Ted to die. A terrible guilt brought tears to his eyes, but he'd do anything for Dee.

Ted died on the street, forgotten and crying for help. Albaro sobbed, it was his job to save people, and he had failed. But it was either save one or the other, and he'd chosen Dee. His blind love for her had driven him to let another person die, but at this point, he would do anything as long as it kept her happy and safe. Dee was not evil, like they said. She had done nothing but help. He was sure that Dee had never hurt anyone ever...

The rest of their lives were relatively peaceful. They focused on making more pads and mourned December's death. Albaro and Dee grew old and withered with age, and needed to find a new doctor quick. Albaro selected Kiro, a chipper young lass who was eager to learn the art of healing, and Dee selected a young boy who knew the basics, but not how to heal arrow wounds.

Dee was determined to teach him, and brought him to the medical center where Albaro, already having one foot in his grave, was doing some last-minute work.

"Albaro, my assistant, will you be our test subject?" she asked him. He didn't know it would be the final time he'd hear her threatening voice, which had grown beautiful to him. He'd do anything for Dee. He nodded, and now a man, knew what this meant. He knew the risks but knew it would be worth it. He'd do anything for Dee.

He stood calmly as Dee lifted a bow from the ground and slid an arrow into it. He looked at her with bright, trusting, aging eyes. In that moment, he trusted her with everything he had. Without hesitation, Dee pulled the trigger.

A severe pain rose up his chest, he looked down and noticed an arrow pierced into his heart. Red dye was seeping from his wound, and his vision was blurring fast.

"Dee..." he croaked weakly, he knew this was the end.

The student fumbled, trying to learn, and in the process, stabbed Albaro instead of healing him.

"I miss you, Dee..." Albaro said her name one final time before everything grew dark.

"Fuck... you screwed up... there he goes." he heard a faint voice, deep, and distinctive, as his vision faded to black.

It's a big city. Everyone gathers around Granny, whose bones are creaky with age. Granny holds the sacred Crown of Your People on her head, and a backpack with two knives, carefully crafted and used to kill the many griefers who have besieged the town in its past. Her apron is dingy and old, but it still contains an arrow.

Granny's children are eager for their share in clothes. They've been working hard their whole lives, and have been too busy farming, baking, and smithing to consider making themselves clothing. They have proven themselves to be trustworthy individuals crucial to society.

Granny's eyes dart between them, trying to decide who gets what. But then, suddenly...!

A joyous little cute baby pops out of her daughter! It's so cute, it deserves ALL of her things! So it gets everything. Knives, crown, full clothing, everything essential to a griefer, before it's at an age where it can survive on its own. Disappointment ripples the entire family when they see the child say "TY" surrounded by a black speech bubble.

--
Sigh. I like how one former put it -- "gearing babies is a slap in the face to all of the hard workers out there." It's something I've heard almost everyone complain about, and it needs to be addressed. I can't count how many babies I've seen grief as soon as they can hold a weapon, because their things were passed down to them as a family inheritance instead of something to be given to responsible players. You can't predict baby's motives. It is not a good idea to gear them unless there is enough for everyone. Also, your kids will get mad at you if you do. So, there's that.

Thanks. Tired of seeing this.

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