Written By Tanith
Feb. 13, 2020, 3:05 p.m.(10.04305472883598/3.4110648148148144/1012.7535878940697 AR)
Today is the day that even -gossip- seems to burn.
Written By Aureth
Feb. 13, 2020, 2:24 p.m.(10.041055307539683/3.2990972222222226/1012.7534212756283 AR)
Relationship Note on Tomwell
Thoughts on the nature of an ending . . .
In ways, this isn't one. It may be a long journey, it may be one that you don't return from in this life, but whether it is or isn't, what you are to me isn't gone, and the lessons we learned together with whole hearts will be with us always. We sacrificed together, and that is the kind of thing that doesn't go away.
In other ways, it is: an ending, and a new beginning, with all the bitterness and sweetness that might contain in either concept. Love isn't selfish. It doesn't hoard to itself what is, what was, what could be. It permits us to grow. I know that whatever this is, you chose it, and that means that I can open my arms, and my heart, and let it happen with the force of benediction. It doesn't mean that I won't miss you, your warmth, or your humor, or the fathomless depths of compassion in your eyes.
But it's a gift to give on, not to hoard. Bless you on your road, my dearest boy, my sweet friend, and may whatever aerie you reach fill you with wonder in your new beginning.
In ways, this isn't one. It may be a long journey, it may be one that you don't return from in this life, but whether it is or isn't, what you are to me isn't gone, and the lessons we learned together with whole hearts will be with us always. We sacrificed together, and that is the kind of thing that doesn't go away.
In other ways, it is: an ending, and a new beginning, with all the bitterness and sweetness that might contain in either concept. Love isn't selfish. It doesn't hoard to itself what is, what was, what could be. It permits us to grow. I know that whatever this is, you chose it, and that means that I can open my arms, and my heart, and let it happen with the force of benediction. It doesn't mean that I won't miss you, your warmth, or your humor, or the fathomless depths of compassion in your eyes.
But it's a gift to give on, not to hoard. Bless you on your road, my dearest boy, my sweet friend, and may whatever aerie you reach fill you with wonder in your new beginning.
Written By Mayir
Feb. 13, 2020, 2:15 p.m.(10.040593998015874/3.2732638888888888/1012.753382833168 AR)
Relationship Note on Torian
Well done.
Tip of the hat to you.
Tip of the hat to you.
Written By Strozza
Feb. 13, 2020, 1:23 p.m.(10.037999751984128/3.1279861111111114/1012.7531666459987 AR)
Carrying away a singer who has carried me away. Who is the champion?
Written By Strozza
Feb. 13, 2020, 1:21 p.m.(10.037931547619047/3.1241666666666665/1012.7531609623015 AR)
Relationship Note on Arcadia
Pettiness does not suit you
Written By Lucita
Feb. 13, 2020, 12:50 p.m.(10.03639384920635/3.0380555555555553/1012.7530328207672 AR)
Ohhh! I won a shucking oyster contest while on a lovely cruise hosted by Princess Alarissa. What a pleasant surprise! I didn't even nick my fingers, which was also a big surprise. Good luck must have been on my side. I'll have to remember to thank my survival teachers and cook for showing me the way to do that though hope if ever caught in a situation where they are not readily available in market, someone else will fetch them for me to shuck.
Written By Monique
Feb. 13, 2020, 12:31 p.m.(10.03541583994709/2.9832870370370372/1012.7529513199956 AR)
The preparation for the second annual Tournament of Thorns is well underway and, so far, going smoothly. My gratitude to the Twilight Court for once again providing the fitting (and contentious) grand prize of a boon or possible folly. The pre-games start soon and I look forward to seeing how many thorns are won from the Committee challenges, and too, who can outstare the formidable Archlector Brigida to win the prize cane for the pre-games! Wherever Jo is, I know she's shaking her head on the outside and smiling on the inside.
Written By Thea
Feb. 13, 2020, 10:32 a.m.(10.029549851190476/2.6547916666666667/1012.7524624875992 AR)
Went and took Princess Alarissa's offer of sail into the Bay of Thrax. It was much needed and a chance to breathe. To enjoy the sea breeze. Soon, the inevitable will be here and who knows long it will last.
Written By Sydney
Feb. 13, 2020, 10:21 a.m.(10.028959573412699/2.621736111111111/1012.7524132977844 AR)
There's an ugliness in me that I seem unable to do away with. Perhaps the same ugliness works its way into the hearts of all who grew up where and how I did, or perhaps the failing is my own.
Part of me cannot help but equate the suffering I see with the suffering I experienced, and there's ever a dark, ugly side of my thoughts that cannot help but think,
'That's terrible. But if it happened, or more usually when it happened to me, to mine, to those around me, none cared then.'
I logically know this is a selfish feeling. Suffering must not be compared. Trauma is not a race one wins by experiencing the most, and pain is no less for those who experience, even if you reckon you've tasted worse.
Sometimes the logic doesn't win over the bile in my heart, and I find myself feeling and saying wretched things, because of What Ifs, What Abouts, and Remember Whens.
I need to be better about letting logic win.
Part of me cannot help but equate the suffering I see with the suffering I experienced, and there's ever a dark, ugly side of my thoughts that cannot help but think,
'That's terrible. But if it happened, or more usually when it happened to me, to mine, to those around me, none cared then.'
I logically know this is a selfish feeling. Suffering must not be compared. Trauma is not a race one wins by experiencing the most, and pain is no less for those who experience, even if you reckon you've tasted worse.
Sometimes the logic doesn't win over the bile in my heart, and I find myself feeling and saying wretched things, because of What Ifs, What Abouts, and Remember Whens.
I need to be better about letting logic win.
Written By Arcadia
Feb. 13, 2020, 3:34 a.m.(10.008803323412698/1.4929861111111111/1012.7507336102844 AR)
Relationship Note on Tomwell
Tommy. My only other non-scholar cousin in a family full of scholars. The one who taught me to sit in silence at the menagerie to listen to what the birds have to say, who helped me train my bird when I was smaller. Who showed me there was so much to learn by stopping for just a few moments a day.
I should of known something was different when my letter returned unopened. I'm sorry. I wish i had come to visit some more. I wished I could know where you are now.
I will miss you and your unending kindness.
I should of known something was different when my letter returned unopened. I'm sorry. I wish i had come to visit some more. I wished I could know where you are now.
I will miss you and your unending kindness.
Written By Dianna
Feb. 12, 2020, 10:59 p.m.(9.995170717592593/35.729560185185186/1012.7495975597994 AR)
So, what, exactly, does it take for it to matter that a godsworn goes missing?
Because, as I recall, I've gone after /three/.
And all, yet, were dead by the time we found them.
Perhaps this is why they're /dying/: Because no one cares enough to look until it's too damned late.
Because, as I recall, I've gone after /three/.
And all, yet, were dead by the time we found them.
Perhaps this is why they're /dying/: Because no one cares enough to look until it's too damned late.
Written By Dianna
Feb. 12, 2020, 10:18 p.m.(9.993119212962963/35.61467592592593/1012.7494266010802 AR)
Relationship Note on Tomwell
I'm not well with this.
I'm not well, and I won't pretend to be well.
Yes, maybe it's beautiful to some, maybe it's lovely and romantic and so many other things --
But it's devastating, to me.
And I'm jealous and possessive and I want him back, because I didn't know him well enough, but knew him well enough to know:
Tomwell was /incredible/.
I want him back.
I'm not well with this, at all.
I'm not well, and I won't pretend to be well.
Yes, maybe it's beautiful to some, maybe it's lovely and romantic and so many other things --
But it's devastating, to me.
And I'm jealous and possessive and I want him back, because I didn't know him well enough, but knew him well enough to know:
Tomwell was /incredible/.
I want him back.
I'm not well with this, at all.
Written By Rysen
Feb. 12, 2020, 8:01 p.m.(9.986304976851851/35.233078703703704/1012.748858748071 AR)
Relationship Note on Gunnar
I must congratulate my cousin, now Marquis Gunnar Melaeris, on his union. It is good to have an excuse to visit Astarrea to see him, and of course he will forgive me the evenings I spend in conversation with Marquessa Llewella, going over in detail the wondrous tales of Gold and Arumadin, until the morning light spreads her rosy fingers forth to outshine the stars.
Written By Jules
Feb. 12, 2020, 5:21 p.m.(9.978386656746032/34.789652777777775/1012.7481988880621 AR)
There are so many delightful possibilities that are available to those who wish to take them up. Opportunities open nearly every day and the main question becomes which ones can I squeeze the time for! It's sad that time is so limited for I should like to take part in them all!
Written By Tanith
Feb. 12, 2020, 5:13 p.m.(9.977971643518519/34.766412037037036/1012.7481643036266 AR)
Ordered a new door for the back pantry, been too long unrepaired with too many employees getting stuck in there 'by accident'. And the floor is always sticky. I know exactly who to have clean it.
Written By Tanith
Feb. 12, 2020, 5:11 p.m.(9.977903439153438/34.76259259259259/1012.7481586199294 AR)
Got new boots. Murder has new glasses.
Written By Thomas
Feb. 12, 2020, 4:13 p.m.(9.97501529431217/34.60085648148148/1012.7479179411927 AR)
Sometimes to be without Destiny seems an enormous curse, because the whims of chance and circumstance can be incalculably more cruel.
Sometimes.
I must find solace in the heat of my conviction, that this cruelty can be our crucible and in the end this particular twist will be redeemed by the choices that came of it.
Sometimes.
I must find solace in the heat of my conviction, that this cruelty can be our crucible and in the end this particular twist will be redeemed by the choices that came of it.
Written By Tanith
Feb. 12, 2020, 3:58 p.m.(9.974292328042328/34.56037037037037/1012.7478576940035 AR)
If I ever have children, I'm naming one 'Arnesto'.
Written By Iliana
Feb. 12, 2020, 12:58 p.m.(9.96531994047619/34.05791666666667/1012.7471099950396 AR)
Relationship Note on Talia
I am, on occasion, overwhelmed by the staggering generosity that comes from the most unexpected places.
Goodwoman Talia Baseborn is widely known for her gift with fashion, for the heirloom gowns she has worked with so many Houses of the Compact to see made. In House Leary, she'll be remembered for the bars of alaricite she gifted me with that I might finally retire Eagle's Talon, or more likely for the weapon that alaricite becomes in fair short order.
Valitina is already proposing design suggestions.
Goodwoman Talia Baseborn is widely known for her gift with fashion, for the heirloom gowns she has worked with so many Houses of the Compact to see made. In House Leary, she'll be remembered for the bars of alaricite she gifted me with that I might finally retire Eagle's Talon, or more likely for the weapon that alaricite becomes in fair short order.
Valitina is already proposing design suggestions.
Written By Shard
Feb. 12, 2020, 12:47 p.m.(9.964812334656084/34.02949074074074/1012.7470676945546 AR)
I think people misunderstand why I often grimace or make faces when they call me Prima. Yes, it's uncomfortable, and strange, but it's been over two years since that revelation, I've dealt with it. No, I grimace or make faces because most people who use it think it's at least a little bit of a joke. They either don't know what it means, or they don't particularly care. They didn't care about who my family was before that revelation, and they don't see why they should care now. It's funny, or it's polite but empty, or it's both. As far as most anyone's concerned, I'm still just a commoner Prodigal who now has a weird title, the only purpose of which is to occasionally use it to try to needle me, because why even entertain the idea of taking it seriously?
Fine, but frankly, I wish they'd fucking stop.
Fine, but frankly, I wish they'd fucking stop.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.