Repose

[Locked to Liam R.]
Can I talk to you?


[Locked to Nilus D.]
Where are you?

Who: Dietre Abendroth and Liam Roberts.
What: Liam invites Dietre out.
Where: The library.
When: The night after this.
Warnings/Rating: Low? TBD.

( Can you get out tonight? )

[public:]

Alone

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—

-Edgar Allan Poe



[locked to misha b:]

Thinking back on our last conversation, I feel I was being far too harsh. You have only ever tried to help me, Misha. I deeply regret if you were hurt by anything I said, as I suspect you might have been. I'm sorry.

Who: Dietre Abendroth and Liam Roberts.
What: Liam takes D up on his invitation.
Where: The carnival.
When: Saturday night.
Warnings/Rating: Low most likely. TBD.

( A Meeting of Like Minds )

[Locked to Liam R]

I've been hired by the carnival, should you still want to see me perform. I must warn you, however, that I will be providing music for their burlesque show, so I understand if you decide not to come.

[Public]

They say having a job would be good for me. I find myself exceedingly reluctant. I have a feeling they believe having a job to go to would be the only way to get me out into the world. I suppose that is true enough. Funny how a month ago I wasn't allowed to leave. Now they want me to. Ridiculous.

Headache remedies. Aspirin ain't doing anything.

Who: Liam & Patrick
What: A run-in
Where: The woods
When: Following this
Warnings/Rating: Mentions of drug use.

( That conversation had brought entirely too much back. )

This town has a bookstore, right? Worth visiting?

[Everyone at the B&B]

friends, romans, country types- i am going to be gone for a week on a road trip. caleb is in charge while im gone!

Anything interesting about this town that a new guy might want to know about?

[The gift comes as promised nicely wrapped, with a nice card and the confirmation receipt stating that a recurring monthly donation of 150.00 has been set up for the local animal shelter.

There's a "Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year" hand written inside.]

Hi,

Any Christmas and/or Hanukkah and/or Secular Holiday TBD wishes?

[Anonymously]

Some of the vices that people like to partake in are horribly inconvenient and annoying.

Clinical trial for any such person displaying symptoms of depression. Beginning selection Oct 1. Participants comment under a lock, for preferred anonymity. Aliases allowed.

[Locked to Jezebelle K]

Do you have any more of that stuff you sent me? For the headache?

[Public]
[After this.]

To the damn bastard with the feathers: What the heck's your problem, son? You ain't got nothing better to do than see a soul tormented? How bout if I buy you some tissues and introduce you to your palm?

[Maybe it's petty, or perhaps he just dislikes having demands made of him by humans. Either way, feathers appear in Misha's room Monday evening. Snowy white and unlike any sort of bird feather, they end in his room, though they trail through the hallways of the Quiet Home, scattered here and there.]

[Someone's feeling better, or at least better enough to be out and about and walking by the catholic church because that's a thing he does? Or at least today it's a thing he does. Unlucky for him. Because the pretty purple flowers have sprung up and it's gotten incredibly hot all of a sudden.

Hot enough that he's down to his boxers and stretched out on the grass in front of the church, too hot to do much more than grumble and fan at his face with one hand.]

[The package isn't delivered in any sort of normal way. No courier. No mailman come with a wee box, no. It was delivered by the store's raven Scéal, who came gleefully rap-tap-tapping at his window. The package itself is not large, slightly smaller than a paper towel tube, wrapped in white paper with a single piece of gold ribbon tied at each end and looped in the center for easy carrying. Inside is a small roller ball phial, filled with a slightly yellow tinged liquid; on it the label reads migraine cure, and in her own even handwriting is written: Apply topically to temples. A green sachet contains two packets of willow bark tea, already in American style tea bags, with a quick handwritten note: Steep for five minutes. Drink hot. The third item is a small tube filled with golden, viscous liquid - the promised honey, just enough to sweeten two cups of tea if used indulgently. Finally, and tucked against the side of the roll is a purple and gilt-gold business card for Chrysalis.]