Journal,
Why are you so dusty? ((Checks previous journal entry date)) December 29th?! Really?
Well, what can I say? I’m not going to recap that many months! Just assume a lot of interesting stuff happened, Journal.
Don’t give me that look! Fine, nothing interesting happened. Nothing at all! Not one interesting thing until…
Well, I did have an absinthe with Mr. Spires last night.
Or maybe I should say, Mr. Spires had AN absinthe and I had the better part of the bottle.
Is it my fault I have such a high tolerance?
Honestly, my head is swimming today. I may just go back to bed! I suppose the amount of traveling I’ve been doing has caused me to drink considerably less, well, that and my complete lack of access to alcohol whenever I so desire it (Ah! I do miss the Gangplank some days!). Mayhap my tolerance isn’t what it was?
But this wasn’t what I sat down to write about, Journal. Honestly, will you please stop distracting me?
Thank you.
I sat down to say that I had a conversation with Mr. Spires.
Don’t give me that blank look! where did that stain come from anyway? I wonder if Kaylee has been snooping in my
Ah! Distracted again!
An actual conversation. No fanatical remarks, no comments on maintaining the ‘purity’ of humanity (it’s no secret that he was not fond of us half-breeds). When I inquired as to the odd change in disposition he said he’d been on a trip to the country. That’s quite a trip!
Well, he said that and then something about…well, I’m not sure. Not all of it made sense.
Or rather, most of it didn’t and I’m still puzzling it out.
How on earth could he have known about that nearly-disastrous flight over France?
It doesn’t matter, I suppose.
I have yet to secure an apartment for myself, so I’ve been pitching a tent nightly in a field outside of the city. Thank goodness for the Turkish Baths or I’d be an honest and true mess, though that is getting to be a bit pricey and make me feel a tad over-indulgent. The attendants seem to think it’s odd that I’m there daily.
Samwise is bedded down in the city stables. I’ve not been to visit Kaylee or Tess, and I do need to track down Felicia, the poor girl!
This whole nonsense about finding what I was missing…I think the doctors were right. It’s all in my head. Whatever it is that was driving me far and wide over the world, it can’t possibly exist.
~S. MacB.
If you are looking for a place to stay, I am about to head out on an excursion with my new squire. I don’t know how long we will be gone but you are welcome to crash at the clock or the house on the adjacent property. All I ask is that you power-up the Tesla cannon once a day to keep it primed. Help yourself to anything in the ice-box that looks edible… and don’t throw out the contents in the jar at the back, that is an experiment. Oh, Arnold tends to stop by in the late afternoon’s to give me grief, he’s mostly harmless… don’t feed him, it will just encourage him to keep coming back.
Mr. Lighthouse, you really do need to stop lying, or exagerating the truth in this case. I stop to talk occasionally on my daily run through the city, and I haven’t been able to see you in the past month, and I’ve certaintly never stopped for the purpose of giving you grief either.
Well, intentionally. I will admit that we tend to get into arguments.
My Dear Miss Star, my offer to tend bar is still open. Old Hob is willing to split the bar-tending duties.
I just recently “acquired” some fine British Royal Navy Imperial Rum. Perhaps we could discuss your sleeping arrangements over a bottle or two?
Gentlemen! Thank you kindly for your housing offers! I do believe I have found a place. Though, I may yet raid your refrigerator, Mr Lighthouse!
And as for you Mr. Lupindo, Naturally I shall take the position. And of course I’ll help you with that rum. We will need to discuss the particulars of my employment, and a little alcohol always helps make a contract…interesting.