Angel Grove Net

Christmas time is harder than others for missing those who aren't here, isn't it? Once again, I find myself wishing, if only for a moment, that I could see my little brother again. I died trying to ensure he was all right, it might be nice to see it for myself, to hug him and to make certain he is well, and healthy, and to tell him that the circumstances we departed under...awful as they were, as I opposed his marriage to an opera singer of all things The fool boy always WAS a bit...idealistic as a child to think it an equal marriage by any means are forgiven, and that I could never hold them against him for very long at all.

I miss Raoul, and Christmas parties, and his stupid faces at the tree after I managed to find just the right presents. Is it so wrong of me to WISH that I might see him, even though I know it to be impossible?

I was legitimately shocked on my way into work today to be given a blank look when I wished the barista a Merry Christmas and he looked confused, and then had it confirmed when I got here that there are no twelve days of it anymore. Does everyone honestly simply go back to normal on January 2nd, just like that?

If that is the case, then I suppose I need to make the last one count. Is anyone here interested in doing something for the new year, even though, to be quite honest, the urge to drink myself completely insensible in the company of other people faded a good twenty years ago. Not that I am at all opposed to drinking now, in the right circumstances, and I think a bit more than is apparently the cultural milieu of the decade, but I do enjoy being able to taste my wine and brandy.

Is anyone here interested in going on some sort of expedition somewhere we can actually hear ourselves speak or to my apartment for a sort of...

New Year's Eve for civilized people, perhaps? If there are enough of us, we ought to try to coordinate a little, I should think, and leave the crazy teen and twenty year old lot to get up to...whatever they do anymore, again.

If any of you know my daughter, her name is Aketet. I want to give you an answer to why she's not seen any of you in nearly a week. Aketet is currently bedridden, on IV, heart and brain monitor, and a feeding tube.

She contracted a disease from the Silurian side of her, thanks to another Silurian who landed in the world and she... has a 95-98% chance of perishing this. We're doing all we can, have a Silurian doctor that, thank heavens came in, working on her.

But this all relies on her strength. I can't let anyone come see her, for fear of other pathogens coming into her system, but I am willing to offer messages or... if any of you care enough for gifts. Plants are always a very good things because of her Silurian side and their nature. Or cards, or... anything. She needs to know how much she is loved. Give her all the more to keep fighting this.

I will keep updates to anyone who wants it. You may ask for our address if you need it. Don't worry, it can only infect Silurian and those with Silurian genes, so us humans are safe... unless it mutates and then we're all doomed. As we were told it killed off most the young of the tribe they're from.

It has been a while, and things have been busy. Surprisingly enough, of all things, I, of all the people in the world, a comte nonetheless, found actual work a bit ago, and have been spending most of my time cleaning stalls, hauling horse feed about, and teaching jumping and dressage. The first of which lessons I actually enjoy, and the second of which, well, dressage is paying for the lease on the gelding I've fallen in love with, so there is that, at least.

As it comes to it, though, I've a question about...another matter all together. An incident from my past, one which I have tried my best to forget, seems as if it is doing my best to resurface and haunt me. It was enough I could not swim this summer, because of my own death by drowning, but to be reminded of the death that I caused things that I have done, even though they were over twenty years ago, now, is something of a problem. It is obvious that I got away with the act in question, but I suppose things prick at one after a time.

If there is anyone who I might talk to about all of the things involved in this, someone who is not a "mandated reporter", whatever that entails. Similarly, I would prefer no priests, or anyone in the way of being a gossip. Is there anyone willing to hear my own deep and dark history?

...I miss my ballerina.

Okay, so..... yeah. I'd never date Robin Hood... I don't know what those "writers" are thinking, but I'm fairly certain that I'd never let him anywhere near me. This is ridiculous.

This can't be happening.

It can't. I'm dead. Por favor, dime que estoy muerto. I'd rather be dead.

Antes muerta que se enfrentan a lo que pasó.

Typewriters. Knowing what one does with such a thing does help considerably in working out this device I've been given. All that aside, I'm rather in a hurry to prevent a terrible mistake. How did I find myself escorted from the Opera House by the police who seemed under the impression I was quite mad? Why is the world outside of it so completely different?

Most importantly perhaps, where is Raoul de Chagny and is too late to tie him to something even he cannot escape until he's regained control of all his senses?