Doctor Cloud has instructed me to type whatever it is that I wish into this blog. He wants to know my story; everyone has one, I guess. How they came to be what they came to be. I'm a little different from normal, however, but I like it just fine.

Cloud says that I am a "Fossil-Type LAMIA" which is connected to "Fossil-Type SHALOTT." Oh, Mother. What names they come up with. But I suppose lamia is as good a name as any. And, as with all lamia, I was blessed with a new name when I was given my scales:

I am Proserpine.

Doctor Cloud wants to know about Mother. Very well, I shall tell him.


When you wake up and look into the mirror and worry and agonize about the days to come, that is Mother.


When you scream inside your head about everything that is wrong or unfair or cruel, that is Mother.


When you are weeping, that is Mother.




Mother is the tears you shed.


Mother is the face in the mirror.


Mother is time, her tail placed between her lips to make a circle.


Does that explain everything?

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Look I made a snake.

See the shining scales. See the mirrored angles. See the dark reflections.

Do you see, oh doctor with his head in the clouds?

Do you see the scales?

Now you see me...


Now you don't.