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Turning thirty was a great success. Thank you to everyone who showed up, it was every bit the classy engagement I'd hoped for. I am tremendously hungover and wish there was an IV drip of coffee.

Ah well. Back to bed soon, I think, then I've been promised a pancake feast. It's a shame Lent starts tomorrow. I've decided to have a more traditional practice of it this year, and I got so many cake and pastry molds that will have to wait for April. Unless I break them in tonight.

So much going on this week! I can't remember the last time I've been this busy. Tomorrow is Valentine's day, and then we have Aramis's birthday party on Monday. I think I've got all the arrangements for that down, it should be a blast.

And beyond that, there's a new addition to our little family, which we've mentioned to a few people. But I wanted to introduce him to the group at large.



This is Mousqueton, who I'm calling Moose because that's a little easier to pronounce. He's an absolute sweetheart, and he gets along perfectly with the kitten. He likes to curl around Bazin when he sleeps, to keep him safe I think. Melts my heart.

I know that I'll never know who Charles I was as a person, but, honestly, I've grown fond of him. Or I had. Considering my dream self didn't care much for the English, Charles had made such an impact. A good, honest man. At least he was to us. I even woke up this morning with the ribbon from the knighthood he bestowed upon me for my aid. Admittedly, the sight of it is a bit emotional, so I've locked it away with the other tokens I've gotten.

That being said, while I'll never know who Cardinal Mazarin was as a person, I despise him. I'd take Richelieu any day, really. And I'm rather sad that Anne of Austria is not quite as sympathetic as she was in my former dreams.

[Friends (if you think this applies, it does)]

Consider this your formal invitations. My birthday is in two weeks, on the sixteenth, and Porthos has just informed me he's taken care of all the planning. We've booked a large suite at [hotel] for the night, where there will be plenty of wine and champagne and various other drinks (please feel free to bring what you'd like). And probably there will be some hors-d'oeuvres as well as vast amounts of macarons. There is a chance, following this little affair, we'll go out somewhere proper.

Either way, I do hope you can all make it. It's very formal, so dress to the nines. I want to hit thirty in style.

I have never fully understood the love of American football, though when it comes to the Super Bowl I can understand the excitement to some degree. The World Cup is the best example.

Speaking of real football, or soccer, today my home country's team, DR Congo beat Congo and won their match today and go on to the semi-finals for the Africa Cup of Nations! I could not be prouder.

As for the Super Bowl, I think I will cheer for Seattle, considering New England's behavior as of late.

I think I'm going to have to start refreshing my European history because of these dreams. I have a decent knowledge of important things, in passing, but dreaming about all these historical figures and being involved in all of these pivotal moments really makes me realize how much I don't know. And, truthfully, it could be interesting to see what varies from my dreams and what actually happened. Though, can you believe it, Athos and I got knighted by King Charles I and then we got taken prisoner by Cromwell - and, of course, who should be agents of Cromwell but D'Artagnan and Porthos. Naturally we're all rather sick of England and are devising a way to save the poor king (a lost cause, I know, but our dream selves are so optimistic) so we can return to France.

And it's a good thing that my last dreams saw fit to give me this locked ebony box. My dream self has a habit of receiving very nice gifts and I like having a proper place to put them. This diamond cross looks quite nice next to the cross from Queen Anne.

So D'Artagnan recently surprised me with a New Year gift, which happened to be a chocolate Labrador rescue puppy. We're still working on a name for him. But I wanted to thank D'Artagnan and let everybody see him.


( Puppy picture )

Happy New ayear!!

You know, I think 2015 is going to be great. So much is going to happen and I'm going to get married! Also i really love San Francisco. I hope everyone else is having such a good time. We're on this cruise and it's fantastic.

Oh my God. What have I done. Why did I think any of this was a good idea? It was so easy to say yes.

I can't do this. I can't settle down like this. This is all a disaster.

Maybe a week in San Francisco will calm me down.

Look, I'm no Grinch or anything, but I seriously don't understand why we have to do this stupid office Secret Santa thing. I don't know this person, I have no idea what to get them. And then we what, have a party to give presents to people we barely know?

Ho ho yeah not for me. Who the fuck even put my name in there anyway.

I am 1000% certain that what I am about to say counts as blasphemy, but if there's one thing I love about being Catholic it's the days off for days of obligation and feasts. That being said, I feel like I'm due for a good mass. I think I need that feeling of God's presence lately. Also, that means today I can finally find time to get the house decorated, even if we won't be here for Christmas.

So Aramis, Porthos. How do you like your new winter themed livingroom? I should go into interior design right?

No honor in snow wars.

MY PLANTS! I JUST...I CAN'T EVEN...

SNOW IS HALF THE REASON I LEFT NEW YORK!

It seems I have a never ending wealth of dreams. I'm glad it's not something new again, but rather a continuation of sorts from my latest set. Well. It's twenty years later, but it's a continuation. I can't say I'm very surprised at the man my dream self grew to be. They call me Monsieur l'abbé d'Herblay and I'm a frondeur and I seem to be as vain as ever. Regrettably, we four friends seem to be on opposing sides. And Athos and I get to travel suddenly to England to try and help King Charles I. (My dream self is very wary of the English.)

Apart from that, I hope everyone had a good day yesterday. I've suddenly realized I have a lot to be thankful for. I take many things for granted and don't often stop to express my gratitude. It's probably time to start growing up a bit, yes?

A couple things to address. First off, and not very originally I suppose, but I want to thank all the men and women out there who have served and continue to serve their country. One day isn't enough to thank everyone for what they've done, but it's all we officially get, so there you are.

Secondly, I'd like to apologize for being an angry seventeenth century Frenchman for a few days there, and making embarrassing posts. Apologies to anyone I shouted in French at.

And last, congrats to Clint on his new place, looks gorgeous.

We just got home from grocery shopping. Our kitchen was practically ransacked, and I had the worst stomach ache and hangover when I woke up this morning. Is it a good thing I don't recall really what happened this weekend?

What I do recall is more dreams. The end of these ones, maybe. At the end of it all, I decided that I was done with being a musketeer in earnest this time. I departed Paris and almost poetically stopped writing to my friends all together. It's all very final. Ah well, this version of myself, his heart was never truly in it, I feel.

Also I should add, before I forget, this picture of us on Halloween. We make quite the group.

( Cut for image, warning: good looking men in plenty of leather. )

[Private to Remy]

I was going through my messages on my phone. I am so sorry. I have no idea what got into me.

Really glad to have the day off today to recover before heading back in to work tomorrow. This weekend was just so draining. I think I agree with Mr. Stark--how he said that the weekend's not long enough. Hear hear. I need another eighteen hours to sleep.

My phone has no storage space left, so I'm working on uploading all my photos to my laptop and I came across these gems from the San Francisco trip over Easter. I figured, what with it being Throw Back Thursday and all, I'd put up my offering.

( Cut for image heavy post; viewable to all - one photo with a rude gesture. )

So much seems to happen at a time when I dream. At the very least, I can easily say that were are all four of us prime conspirators and let very little stand in the way of our success.

That being said, I somehow managed to get a sword to the arm. Fortunately, I didn't wake up with that injury this time around, and the man happened to accidentally fall on my sword after all was said and done. Then there was the matter of someone attempting to poison d'Artagnan using our names (and a plot, in general, to kill him and subsequently us - really, d'Artagnan, the things we do for you).

I've come to the conclusion that this Athos is a jerk. A clever one, but a jerk all the same. He continues to call me "monsieur the abbé" and I can't tell if he's being mocking or affectionate. I'm leaning toward the side of mocking. My dream counterpart's patience is beginning to run thin, I can feel it.

And then I suppose given my former set of dreams, I expected things to turn out rather differently. It seems misfortune is bound to strike where one least suspects it to.

It seems I was wrong about the dreams being finished after all. Just a bit ago I had another I think. Paris again, but bit of a different Paris. I don't know how to explain it, except I had a yellow horse this time around. I'm fairly sure every eye in the city was watching me and insulting it. I ended up fighting with a group of them before I even made it to my final destination which was of course to see Monsieur de Treville. They weren't insulting directly at me, but that horse had been a family gift. I wouldn't stand for it. Naturally I had to stand up for it since it could not itself. It didn't end well.

I challenged a group of men on my own and was over powered. They didn't even face me with swords, they chose shoves and sticks and other random stuff to hit me with. Four to one and I still didn't move to escape. I didn't miss the headache these dreams left us with that's for damn sure.

Well, never a dull moment around here, is there? Sincerest thanks (and apologies) to the Flynn family for letting me stay on while my poor best friend was locked to Mister Flynn. I plan on sending a gift basket, just let me know what you'd like in it.

Is everyone else back to normal then? Everyone made some new friends? I know Aramis certainly has, since we're apparently having more people over than expected for his Feast Day. Bless, he'd invite the entire state over if he could.

Well, this is an interesting turn of events.

[Secured to Agency Personnel only (Musketeers, Peggy, Steve, Nick Fury, etc.)]
Woke this morning under a strange influence. It apperas as if I'm attached to another person. I can't seem to leave.

I'll be working from home until this has passed, unless you're desperate for me to come in. I figure, this guy can't leave my side, either, and I'm not sure it's a good idea for me to drag him around, exposing all of our trade secrets.

Can't sleep. I have a massive headache and Porthos is snoring.

Had a bit of a dream in the little bit I did sleep. My mistress sent me Spanish gold to pay for my equipments to go to war, as well as a horse, and Constance has been kidnapped but we were able to catch glimpse of her. It's a bit fun, at least, to compare this set of dreams to the last.

Monday I go in for surgery to repair the nerve damage caused by that damned musket ball. Then by the first week of October I should be back at work, followed by physiotherapy. Stopped by today to pick up some things I can catch up on for the next week and a bit while I'm out.

If anyone has Netflix recommendations, it would be beyond appreciated.

I have never spent so much time on the internet as I have this past week and a bit. I feel useless. And manic.

I've learned that you can take tours of the Armory in San Francisco, aka the production studios for Kink.com. No one told me this and I'm a bit offended. Apparently they also do workshops.

The shoulders doing well enough. Fingers crossed it does all right on its own, because the thought of having to get surgery to repair the nerves is not very pleasant news. I'll need to clock the hours in at the range.

And apparently my dreams are taking us to war. Against the Huguenots. Like proper Catholics and all.

This hotel is starting to grate on my nerves. Athos and I took a break and decided to ry the things we've gotten from the dreams. Duno why it took us so long to do but here's the results. I may have gotten carried away.

( Cut for pictures but open and viewable to all. )

Home. Got to go home last night.

Not so bad as Porthos made it sound.

Strange dreams at the hospital. About self flogging? I dreamt in Latin. And poems with 400 one-syllable stanzas, recited in a minute.

Well, Aramis has gone and gotten a tattoo, which makes me want more ink of my own. I currently have two half sleeves, that look like this:



I think I want something on my lower back, since my arms feel pretty complete with just the half sleeves, but I'm not sure what, just yet. Or maybe on my chest?

I'm open to ideas. Just getting the itch again.

I'll never understand why it matters who you love as long as it's love. It isn't hurting anyone so why does it bother anyone else? Gay or straight, why should it matter? I'm-they're not forcing it on anyone to be that way. It just doesn't make sense to me.

LA Galaxy needs to pick their game up. They're only 4th place in their conference at the moment. I miss real football... it's just not the same here.

[Filtered to medical sorts]
I'm aware there are a few of you on this network, I was wondering if any of you were psychologists?

[Filtered to Aramis and Porthos]
The food has basically been a godsend fyi. Thanks for that again. Neither of us have really felt up to going out the last couple days.

[Added filter to Remy]
..How about that drink?

[Athos]
Think I might try to talk to someone about this insomnia thing.

[Agency message]
We won't be in today. Athos' home was damaged in that spike quake. He's injured.

[Filtered to Musketeers]
We lost the house. Athos is injured, for now we're at a hotel I guess.

[Friends filter]
Yeah..it

That was Athos's place on the news. We're both okay as can be, staying at a hotel for now.

[Filtered to Remy]
Need a raincheck.

Just hit a woman with my car.

But don't anyone worry-- she was just fine, didn't even get a dent.

And the woman was okay, too.

I bet this sort of thing happens all the time here. It sort of happens all the time in New Orleans, too. Crazy pedestrians everywhere.

On the upside, my new penthouse is sublime. Thank you, Newport Beach, for the beautiful water-front property.

There's rather a lot going on right now that isn't very delightful at all.

That being said, I've just stumbled upon this, and it's very delightful. Pretty much how it happens in a nutshell, I should think.

Apparently these dreams aren't done. That being said, mine seem to have reset, but they're not quite the same as they were before. That is to say, we're all still musketeers, but we're a bit more ... Put together, I suppose. And I'm much younger. Well, I'm about twenty-three or so (and Athos and Porthos are very much the same age, if not older, HAH). This incarnation of me is a bit more delicate, I'd say, mannerism-wise. More sensitive, perhaps, too, and certainly of high opinion of himself. He's got some sass on him, at any rate, and continues to insist that being a musketeer is only a temporary job until he rejoins the church and becomes an abbé.

And never fear, D'Artagnan is still there. In the form of a rowdy eighteen year old who offends each of us, and then sets a duel time with each of us only an hour apart. Imagine our surprise when we show up to be Athos' seconds and he's fighting the same boy we're meant to. Then we fight some Red Guards (it should be noted that I fought two while the rest only took on one), the King congratulated us with plenty of money (we're always poor). This dream-me spends a lot of time reading or writing, and his lackey is named Bazin, which I find hilarious if only because I had no idea that would be the case when I named my cat Bazin.

And, as always, my chosen mistress of the time was quite affluent, and, being caught up in some courtly scandal was exiled out of Paris. The scandal seems to have elevated, though, and I suspect some great adventure is about to happen.

Other people's calendars have things like birthdays, or vacations. Or deadlines, or other such very important information.

The calendar at our house has two things:

1. Catholic holidays
2. Food related days

Cheesecake Day was a great success.

We don't speak of Tequila Day.

(This Sunday is S'mores Day, everyone ought to celebrate.)

I'm not sure if I should be amused or annoyed at Dream Athos flirting horribly with a comtesses. It's a little hard not to be amused. I don't think he has any actual idea how to talk to women.

I seem to be getting 'dreams' rapidly now compare to before. Just nearly every time I close my eyes. Some days they actually feel as though I'll wake up in Paris.

[filter to Aramis]
You may have something to this yoga thing.

[Filter to Porthos]
How are you?

[Another filter to Elizabeth Comstock]
Are you all right?

Took an elbow to the nose in the middle of night, last night. I've had many bad wake-up calls in my life, but I've got to say, this ranks pretty high on the Unpleasant Scale.

( Image cut for blood. )


But guess who had to clean the sheets? Hint: it wasn't me.



[ooc: trigger warning - blood]

[Failed block from Athos, D'Artagnan, Porthos and Elizabeth Comstock. Post is viewable and open to everyone.]

I'm suddenly forced to face the fact that, against my better judgment, I've gone and fallen in love.

What a way to start a Monday.

I'm at least reasonably certain I gave my roommate his own room when he moved in. But that seems to have gone by the wayside.

Well, it appears we musketeers got one over on ol' Cardinal Richelieu. It was quite a fantastic plan, I think, involving a beautiful fake death for Athos. Then all celebrations were ruined by the announcement that the Queen is going to have an heir and you'll never guess who the father is. Of course the Cardinal somehow knows - he heard her and I talking. So that's lovely.

I woke up to my musketeer cloak, though. I think my outfit's complete now. And "All for one, one for all" is sort of a catchy motto.

[Blocked from other Musketeers, cause y'all not puncturable yet]

I also stumbled across this. And it's hilariously and alarmingly accurate.

I think Belgium's forgotten that the point of soccer is to get the ball into the net. And that we have a helluva goalie when they do manage to remember.

I'm glad France is putting up a good show in lieu of Spain not making it into the knock-out round. That being said, going up against Germany in a few days does not bode well. It would certainly be a coup for France to beat them. But then they'd likely have to play Brazil and that seems a slaughter waiting to happen.

It's a strange World Cup at that. At this point, I won't lie. I'm more or less cheering for whoever is going against the Netherlands.

I seem to have caught that particular dream that was going around. The one where I get accused of murder on my birthday.

I can't say I enjoyed it, much. It was interesting and all, seeing where my other self grew up, but the Court of Miracles isn't a place I'd go by choice, I'll say that much.

Still, thanks to my friends for getting me out of that particular scrape. It seems I need you there just as much as I do here.

That was..not fun. That would be the second 'dream' that's actually injured me. Put me in the hospital this time. No real surprise after what happened in it I guess. We were sent after an anarchist named Vadim. The only way to get to him was from the inside. I was sent under cover as a condemned Musketeer left to hang at the Châtelet for illegal dueling. I befriended him, or so I thought. Vadim was too smart, a master of manipulating people to look in the wrong direction. In this case he wanted to rob the royal treasury and reshape France by killing the King and Queen as he said. But really he wanted us all looking in the wrong direction as he made off with the Queen's jewels.

He caught on that I was a spy for the Musketeers and ended up knocking me out and I'm guessing that's where this remaining headache is from. Anyway, I woke up under ground tied to enough black powder to blow Paris to pieces. I had no weapon to cut myself out so I had to fight the ropes, burns like hell. Nobody knew I was down there, Vadim had made sure I only passed on information he wanted me to. The others were still protecting the royals. My wrists are red from the ropes even now. I managed to put out the explosives and catch up to Vadim, using his own trick against him, and ended up killing him. He still tried to escape, but he didn't get far.

And now doctors orders I'm not allowed much activity and I'm bloody bored.

[Aramis]
Thanks..you know, for everything.

[Filtered to Elizabeth]
Sorry if I scared you. I couldn't find anyone to drive me to hospital. Athos wasn't picking up, he was driving in to work at the time. The internet was the only thing I could think of at the time.

i cant remember what i was supposed to be doing but this isnt helping. its only making this blinding headache worse.

its hrd to see

think i need help. i cant find athos.

I'm tired but I can't seem to relax. I've wandered away from this post at least three times before finishing.

Counting sheep is a lie.

[Aramis]
Do you have any free time soon?

What a miserable day.

I was hoping Spain would cheer things up for me, but apparently the entire Spanish team has forgotten how to actually play the game of football and now have to return home with their tails between their legs.

More dreams, of course. The musket and dagger are all right, and D'Artagnan's finally become one of us officially. It ought to be cause for celebration but the rest of the it just made me feel too jealous for my own good not my best. And of course there's nothing quite like dreaming a version of the girl you were supposed to marry once upon a time, only to find out that in the dreams she never really wanted to have a family with you after all and purposely disappeared. Then dreaming of her dying in your arms as she fought to defend her convent and her queen.

Oh, yes, and then I slept with the queen of France. So there's all that, then.

I think this is the most time I've ever spent in a Hospital. My father recently joined his friend in here. Now they're on beds next to each other, which is the closest I think they've been in a while.

It's just heartbreaking that whatever rift there was between them is being closed like this. And she doesn't even know, because she's still not waking up.

Aramis
I hope Spain's defeat hasn't hit you too hard. I'm sorry I've been too busy to console you.

I don't even know what to do with Aramis right now. He's underneath his blankets, sulking because of Spain's loss.

I tried making his favourite cookies and wafting them towards the door, but he only resurfaced long enough to take some and then burrowed back again.

This is a bit ridiculous. I don't know how to console him. He just mumbles grumpily at me in Spanish when I try.

I think I need to go for a run or something. Anybody else into running? Just need to move or all I'm going to want to do is sleep. That seems lame for a weekend night before midnight.

Finally managed to pull myself from the pit of despair and shame following Spain's complete humiliation against the Netherlands today. Worked my ass off to get in all my hours so I could be home on time to watch it. What a waste. I'd decided to give Casillas the benefit of the doubt, even if he does play for Real Madrid. Apparently that was a foolish hope to place, too. Of course that being said it was Xabi Alonso that saved us from total desperation with our one measly goal.

What a completely awful beginning.