So I convinced the rhinograde to put his RCs into his safety deposit box at the bank today. Interesting experience. The rhinograde had leased the box for years, but never used it. The procedure was curious. Requires two keys, the box leaser's, and the banker's. Sort of like launching a nuclear missile. Then they put you in a tiny room like a public toilet (only with a chair and desk instead of a toilet, and there are no tubes of lubricant or crack vials on the floor) to do with the box whatever mysterious thing people do with safety deposit boxes.
The rhinograde's recent RC experiences have ranged from 'unsatisfying' to 'miserable', with the occasional, 'terrifying' thrown in. These drugs aren't doing what he wants them to do, and I suspect it's partly because he's got his neurotransmitter homeostasis jumbled like a tossed salad, and his receptors are downregulated, upregulated, and crossregulated in a highly random and dysfunctional pattern. He needs to detox, in other words. Nothing formal, just not using CNS stimulants for a few months, eating right, and generally taking care of himself.
He also wants to take up some other projects he's had on the back burner. He'll still be around DF. :vibes: