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Does it? Underground metaphysically... traveling without traveling... Henry's hand around your ankle, pulling you out through solid dirt. Hmm. "Maybe."
"I'm sure. I trust it has nothing to do with your injured hand?"
You swallow. You dislike Horse Face's tone, not to mention Gil's muttered "aw, shit." "That's none of your business. And I'm asking the questions, not you, given how I saved your life from Us? Remember that? I saved you from Us? So, um, also... do you know about spirits in people's heads? Ghosts, sort of? Or, uh... like... they're part of your brain, but they're not you, they're somebody else... but it's not just somebody else who happens to be inside of your brain. They're part of it also."
"She— she doesn't— she doesn't need to know about that!" Gil says heatedly. "I-i-i-it's not a relevant— it's not— she's just asking questions to bother you, at this point, Garvin, you don't have to—"
"I am <span class="mu-i">not,</span> Gilbert!" You fold your arms. "This is extremely relevant, specifically to—"
"I don't mind," Horse Face says. "Would you mean 'thoughtforms'?"
"...Would I?"
"Perhaps! They're also called eidolons, though that's not quite a catchall. Moreso for the internal ones, yes? But that would seem to fit the bill. An autonomous fragment of the mind, distinguishable from the ordinary un—person by a greater degree of knowledge, of self-awareness, a greater integration with the mind as the whole— rumored to be able to 'take over' the body as well, which produces some degree of physical change, if only in the eyes. Multiple types. The endogenous type is internal, spawning naturally, if rarely, from unclear processes... perhaps major trauma. It's said to take the appearance of its host, sometimes idealized."
That's not Teddy. "What's the other type?"
"Ah. The exogenous type is created by some forcible intrusion, and the subsequent incorporation of the intruder. I hear it can come from large injections of another's blood, with the thoughtform taking the appearance and personality of the source— would you believe it if I said there's a sect devoted to doing just that? To injecting large quantities of the blood of as many other people as possible? Principally each other. The results are not good, Charlotte, not good at all, and yet..." Horse Face spreads his hands. "We all need something to do, do we not?"
"Right." Injecting blood... or absorbing goo, you'd assume. "Well, I hope that we all found this information <span class="mu-i">useful.</span>"
Gil sighs.
"Anyhow, that was all of my questions. I hereby release you, Horse Face, to go off and... bore Gil about the stuff you own. As long as it doesn't take too long! Gil! If it takes too long, I'm going off to do something myself, okay?"
"Um, that makes sense." Gil sucks his cheek in. "Thanks."
"Yes, yes. It's my noble duty to let my retainer look at weird stuff for me. Pick something cool, okay? Or multiple things? As many as Horse Face will let you have."
(3/4)
