Fox Mulder

[The voice of Mulder comes on, complete with the sound of him chewing gum.]

If you knew the meaning of existence, but had no way to decipher it, what would you do? Hypothetically. [This whole thing is DRIVING HIM CRAZY. Having the ultimate answer right there just out of reach does that to him.]

You know... for all my experience with psychics, the occult, and astrological phenomena in general... I've rarely seen it be this accurate. Or, for that matter, this specific. Even the good psychics will often tell you that their predictions are open to interpretation. The bad psychics just make it up as they go along. I've met some of both.

Though I'd suggest following any horoscopes that include warnings... that could at least minimize any damage. Yes, Scully, I also mean you. Follow it exactly if you're warned of impending doom. Otherwise, I guess we just have to ride this out and watch for signs of the predictions coming true. At least they don't all seem to be dangerous? Horoscopes are meant to be an insight into the future, after all, for good or bad. They're a way of learning what's in store based on your zodiac sign and the current planetary alignment. Of course the Malnosso have to twist it into their own warped version...

...by the way, are there any experts on goats or farm animals out there? I'd like to ask some questions if you can spare a few minutes.

[Mulder seldom drinks. Unless there's a weird cosmic alignment or the aftermath of a disaster of some kind. Right now... would be one of those rare exceptions, while he's hanging around his place sulking. He's got his vodka. He's got his frozen orange juice concentrate. He is all set.]

[A lot has happened all in a row- the draft, the experiment, the attack on the village... Mulder has been immersing himself in work to keep focused on something, but that can only help for so long. Especially with how that attack ended. A little visit to his fake!brother to try and take his mind off things with some geeking around has also ended badly... and that's been the last straw. Losing a sibling. Even a fake one... It unearths a lot of Issues.]

I don't know how many people know him. Knew him. Know. He seemed to keep to himself for the most part. My br... My... He wasn't- really- my brother, but he's gone now. Jonathan Levinson. They sent him home.

...If they really send people home when they disappear for good... [He adds with some annoyance:] Yeah, ok, I get it, I get why you had to pick on my paranoia, guys! I know you're all out there listening to this, collecting data or whatever it is you sorry sons of bitches think you're accomplishing. Thanks. Really. I can't wait to see what you do next.

Maybe we should start taking bets now on what they'll throw at us. Or have a drinking game. Take a sip for every time someone disappears unexpectedly, one huge swig every time you wake up with extra body parts, finish the damn thing when your perception of reality is distorted beyond recognition...

[Filtered/Robert + Don]

Hey, how are you holding up, Robert?

Thought I'd find out the same of you too, Don, see if things are ok, or as much as they can be under the circumstances. I've got something for you, but... it can probably wait for a better time. [He's not getting into detail on the journals.]