( colligo ¬ get collected ) → network.

I really hate to admit it, but I probably would have died if Stephanie Brown hadn't been around a few weeks ago. If I hadn't rushed in like I had then she wouldn't have had to play the damn hero and I hate it. I hate being saved by a girl who hasn't had the training I have and I hate being scolded for every single thing I say. Not even my own mother scolded me like she does. Wanting to look after me is one thing, but trying to censor what I say is another. If I were twenty one I'm sure she wouldn't comment on everything, but because I'm ten it makes some kind of a difference. If Grayson were here she would probably still scold me.

You know...one day, if I wish really hard and think positive thoughts, I'll actually manage to do something - anything - in my life without a kidnapping or some other kind of crazy shenanigans screwing it up. And now if I just close my eyes and click my heels three times...

No luck? Oh well. I really thought this kind of thing was done once I left the X-Men.

Seriously though, next time you want to kidnap someone, you should plan better. Metal? Really? What did you honestly think they could do to me? Is your next trick going to be attacking a pyrokinetic with candles? Maybe you'll stick Bobby in a freezer and see if it does anything.

To whoever dared to kidnap the daughter of Thor and the princess of Asgard, my father will be most displeased with you, and I assure you, you will suffer the wrath of the God of Thunder.

Also, whoever did kidnap me might want to think about getting some guards who are at least a worthy challenge.

So let me make sure I've got this straight. I'm stuck in some city that's not on Earth that I can't leave, the welcoming committee consists of two overgrown pieces of walking metal that do not understand personal space whatsoever who hand out a crappy PDA with a map of the city that looks like it was drawn by a five year old suffering from the DTs, and the people I've met so far on the streets are torn between helping me out and turning into mindless zombies who act about half a step away from muttering 'Braaaaaains' before rambling away in search of the next person to freak the hell out?

You know, when I was told I had a different path to follow and it was time to move on? This is not what I had in mind.

What is it with the sudden newbie invasion? Seems like a bloody bollocks trade for You lot make me feel old. Colligo-wise. And ill. Although I dunno if that's your fault or if I'm just hungover.

The tattoo on my right arm may seem like a lie. I was never in Special Forces and putting the patch in ink probably implies that. Truth is, I've been trained by people in Special Forces, Dad was in them, and Mom had this exact same tattoo. It's not a lie to me, since it's my background and it's my remembrance. But usually, you get these inked because you were in them, and I never got to serve-- hell, never got to graduate. Don't Ask, Don't Tell. I got asked; I told. The right thing can really suck hard.

I miss my sister so damn much. I want her back. I'll find one of those Lazarus Pits if I have to. I don't care if she's still crazy coming out of it, I just want her alive and back. She's my other half. It's my fault. Maybe the Pit would do a reversal and bring her back sane. If I ever find her body, how can I not try?

Does anyone know if there's any teaching jobs available? I saw there was a University but I'm really looking to work with people who haven't already become unteachable for a younger age group.