Post by Just Richard on Jan 6, 2011 18:29:17 GMT -8
Mat sits at his desk, his journal open before him and quill in hand. There is a new addition to the surface though. An old and worn looking black binder rests in the corner. Mat gives the binder a look before setting the quill to his journal pages.
There should be a rule that being put into someone's employ means that you will get a job every once in a while. Oh wait, there is. Then the question is, why doesn't my employer give his employee bloody hours. The most excitement I've had in the past few weeks was the illegal jaunt down to Portland and back a few times... fun times indeed there. But here back in Seattle, I end up sitting on my ass shooting the breeze with a fucking Red Cap. Burn me, I didn't intend to give him the big picture but I was so bloody bored that a simple talk of hats, ended up being a seminar on my life's work and my curious situation. This is his fault, if I could just get in on something to do, maybe I'd keep my mouth shut. I have my suspicions about his reasons behind the disregard but I will not voice them here. Actually, I will. They may be far off base, I read women much better than men, but this is my journal and I can express what I want. So, in the words of a fictional vampire from television: "It all started with a girl..."
Things happened in Portland that were, needless to say, intense. I'd been a First before, but I was new at the same time. This time, I was the First with many years of experience and "partnership"... many, many, years... behind me. I knew what I was doing. I may have been in the height of passion when I did it, but that doesn't make me a bad person. She initiated (which sort of put me on edge.) I was gentle, I knew through past events that it was a good thing to be gentle, there is some modicum of pain involved and that was the last thing I wanted to do to her. Apparently I didn't, after the act it was different to interact with her, subtlety different, but different nonetheless. The intensity of the connection I felt with her increased a hundred fold. I am Fiona and apparently I had fallen into one of the oldest habits of my people.
It's strange. I know what I feel and now I know how she feels and it doesn't seem to violate any of my current obligations. It took me a while to make it clear to Sheila that my feelings for the "new girl" do not mean that my feelings for my wife have lessened or even that my heart belongs to another. I am Oath Bound to my wife and will always be bound to her. It is the nature of my House to Love another, in fashion of our patron. Well, we will see how this one turns out.
Another relationship that is becoming more and more exciting is that of my friendship with Andrick Volkov. He is a man that I have come to trust, to admire, to confide in, and to serve in entirety. That is why I have told him what I felt he needed to know. He knows of my trip to Portland, something that was completely outside of protocol and essentially illegal and yet, he didn't seem angry more that he seemed concerned for our well being more than anything else. He's a good guy and I'm sure our business relationship will grow and our friendship does in kind.
Sheila's research in adapting Huninn and Muninn into treasure seems to be coming along slowly, albeit fruitfully. She knows what she needs to do to one, Huninn. But Muninn seems to be the real issue. She's pouring over her files and says she's getting close, but still looking at things. I can wait. For the moment, it's pretty damn cool to have two clockwork birds resting on your person. Makes people look twice before asking about you.
Anyway, I suppose this ends this entry. Although again, I will stress the indignation I feel for my employer. Honestly, if the bastard doesn't give me work, ugh... I'm sure if the Tower of Ghenjei is in the Deep Dreaming, then maybe Shaol Ghul is out there somewhere too. See if his bloody "safari" is equipped for that. What he is doing to me and to people I care for is just...
The rest of the sentence trails off in a scragged line. The next two lines are empty. On the third the entry seems to pick back up.
Well, I feel a bit better although now I need to go get a new desk... and an ice pack for my hand. Well, anyway, I'm sure that Ulrim will understand my potential with the talks--I will be polite, at least in outwardly--we'll have come Saturday.
Mat shuts the journal and places it on a bedside table. He stands off his bed and looks at the desk, spit in half with his ashandarei protruding from the wood. He sighs and pulls the spear free of the wood and sets it on its rack beside the bed. He then grabs his coat and cloak puts both on and heads out the door.
There should be a rule that being put into someone's employ means that you will get a job every once in a while. Oh wait, there is. Then the question is, why doesn't my employer give his employee bloody hours. The most excitement I've had in the past few weeks was the illegal jaunt down to Portland and back a few times... fun times indeed there. But here back in Seattle, I end up sitting on my ass shooting the breeze with a fucking Red Cap. Burn me, I didn't intend to give him the big picture but I was so bloody bored that a simple talk of hats, ended up being a seminar on my life's work and my curious situation. This is his fault, if I could just get in on something to do, maybe I'd keep my mouth shut. I have my suspicions about his reasons behind the disregard but I will not voice them here. Actually, I will. They may be far off base, I read women much better than men, but this is my journal and I can express what I want. So, in the words of a fictional vampire from television: "It all started with a girl..."
Things happened in Portland that were, needless to say, intense. I'd been a First before, but I was new at the same time. This time, I was the First with many years of experience and "partnership"... many, many, years... behind me. I knew what I was doing. I may have been in the height of passion when I did it, but that doesn't make me a bad person. She initiated (which sort of put me on edge.) I was gentle, I knew through past events that it was a good thing to be gentle, there is some modicum of pain involved and that was the last thing I wanted to do to her. Apparently I didn't, after the act it was different to interact with her, subtlety different, but different nonetheless. The intensity of the connection I felt with her increased a hundred fold. I am Fiona and apparently I had fallen into one of the oldest habits of my people.
It's strange. I know what I feel and now I know how she feels and it doesn't seem to violate any of my current obligations. It took me a while to make it clear to Sheila that my feelings for the "new girl" do not mean that my feelings for my wife have lessened or even that my heart belongs to another. I am Oath Bound to my wife and will always be bound to her. It is the nature of my House to Love another, in fashion of our patron. Well, we will see how this one turns out.
Another relationship that is becoming more and more exciting is that of my friendship with Andrick Volkov. He is a man that I have come to trust, to admire, to confide in, and to serve in entirety. That is why I have told him what I felt he needed to know. He knows of my trip to Portland, something that was completely outside of protocol and essentially illegal and yet, he didn't seem angry more that he seemed concerned for our well being more than anything else. He's a good guy and I'm sure our business relationship will grow and our friendship does in kind.
Sheila's research in adapting Huninn and Muninn into treasure seems to be coming along slowly, albeit fruitfully. She knows what she needs to do to one, Huninn. But Muninn seems to be the real issue. She's pouring over her files and says she's getting close, but still looking at things. I can wait. For the moment, it's pretty damn cool to have two clockwork birds resting on your person. Makes people look twice before asking about you.
Anyway, I suppose this ends this entry. Although again, I will stress the indignation I feel for my employer. Honestly, if the bastard doesn't give me work, ugh... I'm sure if the Tower of Ghenjei is in the Deep Dreaming, then maybe Shaol Ghul is out there somewhere too. See if his bloody "safari" is equipped for that. What he is doing to me and to people I care for is just...
The rest of the sentence trails off in a scragged line. The next two lines are empty. On the third the entry seems to pick back up.
Well, I feel a bit better although now I need to go get a new desk... and an ice pack for my hand. Well, anyway, I'm sure that Ulrim will understand my potential with the talks--I will be polite, at least in outwardly--we'll have come Saturday.
Mat shuts the journal and places it on a bedside table. He stands off his bed and looks at the desk, spit in half with his ashandarei protruding from the wood. He sighs and pulls the spear free of the wood and sets it on its rack beside the bed. He then grabs his coat and cloak puts both on and heads out the door.