Viola Reed's Questionnaire

I've called West Virginia my home for as long as I can remember. I grew up here, and I see no reasons to leave the place. I won't deny that some of the locations I once enjoyed visiting have been tainted by experiences of the somber sort, but that just seems to be the side-effect of outgrowing one's childhood - maybe others have been less affected by it than I, but I don't give it much thought either way.

My actual home is small, yet comfortable. It has all of the amenities I need. My job at Prometheus Ventures has been of great help in acquiring both this and some other, equally important things, and so I'm grateful for the fact that they hired me at all.

Life on the streets isn't for me.

Currently, I work as an assistant for the local Prometheus Ventures facility. Only a few such facilities even exist at all, as the higher-ups seem to consolidate their focus in hopes for better quality output of research. My job is mostly doing what other, more important employees tell me to while they attempt to figure out the functionality - and applicability - of the various artifacts we're allowed to play with. If needed, I follow their lead to help the efforts along.

Though this occupation may feel somewhat demeaning to some, I love it simply because I get to be so close to so much otherworldly phenomena at all. Yes, I do want to be able to do more; yes, I do want to be one of those 'more important' employees I mentioned. But I know that it's not something I can make happen with just a snap of my fingers - I must be patient and let time take its course.

As for what I spend my money on? Normal people things, obviously.

Ideally, I want to share my love for the supernatural with as many other people as I can. Give them that spark of wonder that never left my own soul, encourage their curiosity as my parents did for me before dad vanished, and teach them all what I know - and will yet learn - myself. It would be so wonderful to behold.

...And, of course, it's possible that there are such educational institutions already out there, somewhere, but what I want is to make my own.

Another goal of note, meanwhile, that I cannot avoid mentioning, is finding out what happened to my dad all those years ago. His disappearance shattered our family, after all. I spent so long endlessly wondering about the unknown reason he was now gone, and yet I'm still not even an iota closer to the answer than before. In fact, I don't even know if such an answer exists at all. Would anyone know? I hope that I figure out at least something eventually on this front, but I'm not delusional enough to expect it to be easy.

When I was early into middle school, only eleven years of age, I remember one day being picked up to go home. Part of why I can recall that day so vividly even now, eight years later, was my mother's sudden switch in demeanor: lips tight, no smile in sight, abrupt answers, constantly checking her phone. To the happy-go-lucky kid that I once was, that was a very strange occurrence - she was always the calmest and happiest in the room! And I was already deep into puzzling out the reason for her uncharacteristic strangeness by the time we arrived... when mother just outright said it.

My dad was gone.

Gone where?

She didn't know.

Why was he gone?

She didn't know that either.

I'd never seen her look so defeated.

Every question kept making her shaking more prominent, her tears kept on streaming from her eyes, and she left the room after yet another question she couldn't answer became too much for her to bear.

...Things changed after that. No longer would we mention the supernatural: the topic that once was the lifeblood of our household was completely and utterly banned. Accompanying that draconian rule, mother began collecting and putting away so many of the trinkets and reading materials related to it. In a span of mere weeks, the home I grew up in and used to love had become a shadow of its former self, and I saw no signs of it ever returning. Likewise, our hopes of dad one day showing up again no worse for wear have crumbled to dust.

I didn't agree with what mother did back then, and I still hold that opinion now. Even if dad had somehow disappeared due to some supernatural interaction having gone wrong, mother and I could've still continued indulging in our shared special interest - we just would've been more careful. But, thanks to her, things only worsened from there on out, and due to my stubbornness we kept getting into more arguments.

The one thing I learned from the aftermath of dad's loss is that good things don't tend to last.

Mark, my dad, was a massive nerd, and I mean that in the warmest way possible. He knew what seemed like an infinite amount of stories about anything and everything. My love for supernatural theorycrafting was largely formed because of him, as all those notes and unfinished theory writeups were almost always his doing. Mother did contribute to them too, whenever she felt like it, but she tended to be more focused on the 'doing' part than bookkeeping.

Samantha, my mother, was once a wonderful person, and I miss that person very much. Her smiles used to be radiant, her voice was that of reason, and her heavy interest in the supernatural even almost had her fired from her job once. Unfortunately, though, when dad disappeared, it felt like my mom - my actual mom - had disappeared along with him, because what was left was a hollow mockery. I strongly believe that her pre-Vanishing self would be disgusted by her post-Vanishing counterpart.

Jennifer, a fellow assistant at Prometheus Ventures, is probably the one person I'd call a friend. She is diligent in her work, enjoys my forays into theory, hadn't been put off by my departure from the binary, and isn't afraid to relax her normally-impassive attitude when the job no longer requires it. I really should make an effort to get to know her better - she is definitely my type of person.