Jan. 16, 2022, 10:04 a.m.(12/10/1016 AR)
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Don't get used to this, but well....we'll.... a bit proud of all the work you've been doing. You've taken on a position you weren't prepared for. But you've done it with all the grace you've shown most of your life. I think I can speak for our family when I say...Calypso would be proud of you.
Jan. 16, 2022, 9:59 a.m.(12/10/1016 AR)
I have found myself spending more time home. Recouping. Getting things in order. By things, I mean everything needed for my trip home and Southport. So much more traveling and so little time.
Jan. 16, 2022, 9:35 a.m.(12/10/1016 AR)
If you fix a broken toy, it's possible that with an incredible amount of work, attention and love, you might fix it so that it seems as it was - with no sign of whatever was broken. Most of the time though, there is still a scar, stitching out of place, an ear missing. Still beloved, and still good, but not exactly the same as it once was.
That is not necessarily a bad thing.
Jan. 16, 2022, 7:44 a.m.(12/10/1016 AR)
With the opening of the Art District and other projects I was working on reaching completion, I find myself with idle hands. Not that duty leaves me unoccupied or all the troubles that require my attention. It is simply that I have no projects that draw creativity out of me, which has not been the case in the past six years.
Perhaps some time spent in the laboratory will ease my mind, perhaps.. something will find me.
Jan. 16, 2022, 4:40 a.m.(12/10/1016 AR)
The upcoming khati storytime is a hard bought lesson on greed, a warning passed down from mother to daughter and from them to those who will attend. Sponsored by house Seraceni.
Jan. 15, 2022, 11:40 p.m.(12/9/1016 AR)
This journal is dedicated to my brother. He knows why. Consider your request fulfilled, Scipio.
Jan. 15, 2022, 10:23 p.m.(12/9/1016 AR)
notes of nothing at all in particular: the cold taste of the night sky between stars, the scent of blueberry cider, the bite of steel that sounds thick - sluggish - and pounds like a headache between my ears, the scent of warm cashmere.
Jan. 15, 2022, 8:39 p.m.(12/9/1016 AR)
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Perhaps my new seamstress? I haven't had the chance to actually commission anything yet due to the whims of serendipity. But she strikes me as a very guarded woman. Curt. Focused. And someone I don't feel like I understand yet -- which is rare, and thus intriguing. She seems to open up better to women, though. Both to a bell wearing woman she murmured about making more dresses for, to herself, and to an Noblewoman named Ivy whom she seems closer to.
Jan. 15, 2022, 5:26 p.m.(12/9/1016 AR)
[ The following sketches of a seax and a coiled whip -- all short, feathery strokes of someone that's still learning to draw with confidence -- ]
Sparring of late has been a wonderful treat for a me like me, all prowly, really bored and hungry for new things to do. One such spar was with Champion Caspian Wild, presented out of a incredible conversation with him, the Blackheart, and -- I don't remember her name. Shame on me for that failing. But she did offer insights, which I have remembered -- and, oh, that does remind me that Lord Griffin was also present. He was.
Then, there were my usual little amusements -- my correspondences regarding bees and pigeons and spiders and boots and my reminder to Bladesong -- my afternoon in the piazza of the Seraceni manor telling fictions with my dearest of friends, Marquessa Avita. She, as usual, played the most marvelous hostess and she held my interest captive with her tales.
Finally, there was my other improvised spar between Lord Vitalis Clement, yes, he was wearing his star-iron turnip -- and it was dazzling, and he did certainly turn up to impress with Defiance. Despite the quickness of the turn we took around the training ring -- it was swift, ruthless -- and it was fascinating to see how precise such a weapon can be.
Jan. 15, 2022, 5:05 p.m.(12/9/1016 AR)
Take heed, he who reads this, whether it be me in the future or another who by some twist of fate finds themselves reading this:
The most dangerous thing your enemy can do is convince you that they don't exist.
The dagger in the dark kills many more than the army in the sun. May the Thirteen watch your back when you cannot. And may your friends be as loyal in their hearts as they are from their mouths.
Jan. 15, 2022, 4:51 p.m.(12/9/1016 AR)
It's good to be a Harrow. Truly, it's an honor to share blood with people such as this. We are an unyielding force against those who would stand against the Crown, The Compact or the Faith.
After today's conversation with my sisters, Felicia and Cufre, I walk away knowing there's much work to be done and yet full of determination to see it done. Even if maddening matters like the occult have regrettably yet necessarily been mentioned far too often this morning. We walk through shadow and ashes today, but the sun breaks through over tomorrow's steps.
Jan. 15, 2022, 3:33 p.m.(12/8/1016 AR)
I will be doing some meeting of new people and hopefully learning more about my heritgage soon. I have an opportunity to benefit from Lady Whitehawk's contacts and knowledge in this regard, maybe cramming some history into my poor head. I have been spending a lot of time with Elora and I am enjoying this with or without this new opportunity. Arx is definitely less alien with company.
Jan. 15, 2022, 11:27 a.m.(12/8/1016 AR)
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Any who call him there friend must be truly blessed. Just for his advice alone! I was deeply grateful for his kind words, it definitely had an impact on me.
Hear that scholar someone has made an impact on me! Besides a axe hilt to the head to wake me up to some common sense!!! I'm sure father would be proud.
Jan. 15, 2022, 3:20 a.m.(12/7/1016 AR)
It was a night like no other surrounded by friends who are beyond compare. This welling of gratitude ought to be enough to keep me warm when the snows start to fall. And if not, then the memory of my protege dancing so perfectly and the incredible daggers and shining gems and offers of support made will be more than enough to have the snow melting in my wake.
Jan. 14, 2022, 9:34 a.m.(12/6/1016 AR)
[Not an entry, but a watercolor of grays and ochres and softer yellows, the impression of a forest on an autumn morning, a glade protected by sleeping trees, foliage tucked away for winter; scattered about are yellow/green dollops of color, suggestions of mushrooms perhaps, and the starburst blue of aster. The latter is laughable; it's too late in the season for aster to bloom, and far too cold.]
Jan. 14, 2022, 8:17 a.m.(12/6/1016 AR)
Clearly, also under the influence of the excellent care and keeping of -- no, Scholar, not the Mercies. A smaller mercy caught within a bottle. Blissful stuff, that, and I will need to see if I can make a similar tincture on my own idle time. There's also a scent. A hollow, cold, oddly empty scent that I wish to replicate - and it lingers, elusive, difficult to note.
For now, I think, I will ruminate over rennet.
Improve my culture through cheese-making.
Jan. 14, 2022, 12:02 a.m.(12/5/1016 AR)
Three duels in one day. 2 victories, one loss. All provide a lesson to learn, all remind that there is more to master. but everything aside, they were all so much fun!
Jan. 13, 2022, 9 p.m.(12/5/1016 AR)
Beautifully flawed, only wrought with an extra scar.
A risk understood. Choices made. Consequences considered. Wonders - abound.
Illuminated, not dissuaded.
Jan. 13, 2022, 6:58 p.m.(12/5/1016 AR)
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He's a bloody genius of an artist. The Physicians Guild now has a carved anatomical doll for lecture and review purposes. Much cleaner than dissecting pigs for an idea of what's inside. My children, proving they're MY CHILDREN, want to play with it and stab it with their toy swords, then 'sew' it back up. Maybe I'll commission a second one for them as a midwinter gift.
Jan. 13, 2022, 6:56 p.m.(12/5/1016 AR)
I don't know if I should be mad the Abyssal/Weird shit started after I left, or if I should be honored that the abyssal/weird shit waited for me to leave before screwing around...