Angel Grove Net

Halloween.

Hallowed...something? I don't really SPEAK Irish, but...it seems I need a costume. I've got an incredibly wild, incredibly potentially usefully functional for the future idea.

It's WEIRD for an adult to be this excited about costumes and terrifying children before giving them sweets for their trouble, right?

Assassins, Templars, Allies Lock:

Apparently my pickpocketing and subtlety need work. Who's good for practice runs of that?

Its like the fucking saying goes: A gypsy is a gypsy is a gypsy.

They'll steal the rings from your fingers.

And the love from your heart

It has been a strange process, getting used to new life here, if one can call hiding away from the world a way of getting used to things. There's a peace in this seminary that I never quite imagined I could have. The priests and deacons here have welcomed me with open arms, and say that I may stay as long as I like, and at least until the wound I had when I arrived is healed. My arm was, well, incredibly infected, after being stabbed, arrested, tossed into a cell, nearly executed like someone I cared for, and trying to deal with everything that came after all that. Which I'll admit I did over a lot of wine, instead of facing anything.

They've asked me to try facing that pain, here. Not only that one, but the pain I thought I'd shoved away when I got orders I could leave the front. I hadn't thought to do that much, just shove it down. A soldier has no real need for anything but following orders and relaxing, or so I once thought, but maybe I was wrong about that, like I was wrong about...so many things.

Now that I'm finally feeling better, and we know my arm is safe again, they are allowing me to find some things to do for them. I've painted a few rooms, with Father Gabriel, who I would say is becoming a friend, and tried a bit of gardening, though I've got no clue what I'm doing there.

It isn't perfect, and that dark place I tried to hide...I find myself trapped, or is it hiding, there, more than I ever have, but all the same, I'm working on it, finding peace I haven't known in YEARS, even after my world exploded, just like that.

I'd like to give them something more, to say thank you for everything. It doesn't seem enough what I've done, for all that they've given me...

Someone's surely playing some sort of a trick on me, now aren't they? They're CLAIMING this is Paris, but...

Look, I understand things happen while a man's out proving his worth, and earning his way up, then coming home and tossing it all away in one grand sweep of a heroic gesture, but this is...streets I walked in JUST last night, and they're saying I can't go in the bloody cathedral to at least ATTEMPT to deal with something in a way that doesn't involve wine, gutters, and puking in them.

Surely the battle didn't damage her as much as THAT, and they'd deny a man the right to PRAY if I can still do that?

And then I asked about the king, and you'd have thought I'd committed some sort of felony.

I realize things are...dare I say it, topsy turvy after everything, but come now. Somebody explain things in a way that actually makes SENSE.

((He was here once, yes, but he's starting over from scratch. More in the OOC soon-Sar))

IS it me or is it strange to be watching the internet clips of your "Thanksgiving Parade" on the television, and see the guy who posts here sometimes dressed up as one of your friends, along with a cast of people dressed as the rest of them, including someone dressed as YOU, performing a song and dance about the time you were stabbed and left for dead if you hadn't been rescued by the woman you loved then?

It's probably a bad idea to try and get myself a ticket to watch it all play out to its inevitable horrific conclusion, and I'll probably end up regretting it, but...I do want to see her, even a very pretty actress playing her, for one last time, even if her eyes have nowhere the same thirst for right and justice and her gestures don't match the fierce compassion or courage of my world's Esmeralda, and I think that no one's could, but it's...pleasant to think about all the same.

Proof some women never leave the space they carve out in your heart or head, I guess.

Can someone explain the modern Valentines Day celebrations then? We have a Saint Valentine in my Paris, but his feast day isn't exactly...I get the feeling it's become rather more than a solemn feast and mass day, hasn't it?

He was a priest who married Christian couples back when the Romans didn't approve of that, if I recall. Is that why the focus on romance now? Also, I've heard some people who've died in their homes are living again, here? Can someone reassure me? There is...someone I very much want to see again.

What the hell is this? I was in Sunnydale.

Do I make words with the the switch looking things here? ...All right, I guess I do that.

Well. THIS isn't the Cathedral and it doesn't look good for being Paris either. Leave home, sure, and they change everything, but since I was just there, it seems like something ELSE is going on.

Witchcraft? Sorcery? Not that I'm not a little glad to leave that post behind me but I don't exactly have a map for whatever "Angel Grove" is. Am I even in France?

I swear, I heard English behind me, in the oddest accent just now. Someone here care to help a soldier out?