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Must be tuesday.
Sep. 12th, 2006 11:54 pmSomeone's trying to kill me again.
I'm bored and I'm tired and I'm a little angry although right now I'm not sure who or what to be angry at. Staring at the TV or the computer is about the only competant thing I can do right now with the blinking.
'Blinking?' you say curiosly. Yes, blinking, I respond. Much more inventive than previous attempts, but I definitely have to come out in favor of a usefully placed single bullet instead.
I don't even know enough about my magic, or its apparent 'history', to even be much use in my own saving. I know that when the magic went away, so did I. But the magic is still there and I'm just... occasionally not. Sand and Trevor have gone back to the city to bash in a few heads to get some answers, Tara's trying to rouse some mages or at least some answers, and the telepath now sitting in my living room has done what he can to get as many answers out of me as there are.
Whatever's going on with me is apparently tied to the house. Or a side-effect. Or just another effect. I don't know. Maybe I should've burned this friggin' place to the ground when I had the chance. The cats feel it, too... they've been sticking by me. Thus far, Trevor's gotten hit in the face with a door but that isn't drawers emptying, furniture on the ceiling, blood from the drains full-scale like it was before mama was forced out.
Sand's being... strong. Brave. Like always. It's that duty-man thing that I could just never get by. I know he'll come back with something. I know this will be okay. We sat on the couch this morning. In silence. I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to hear anything, and that was exactly it. It's grounded me.
And when I find out who's been screwing with me, I'm going to kick their frickin' kneecaps into their teeth.
I'm bored and I'm tired and I'm a little angry although right now I'm not sure who or what to be angry at. Staring at the TV or the computer is about the only competant thing I can do right now with the blinking.
'Blinking?' you say curiosly. Yes, blinking, I respond. Much more inventive than previous attempts, but I definitely have to come out in favor of a usefully placed single bullet instead.
I don't even know enough about my magic, or its apparent 'history', to even be much use in my own saving. I know that when the magic went away, so did I. But the magic is still there and I'm just... occasionally not. Sand and Trevor have gone back to the city to bash in a few heads to get some answers, Tara's trying to rouse some mages or at least some answers, and the telepath now sitting in my living room has done what he can to get as many answers out of me as there are.
Whatever's going on with me is apparently tied to the house. Or a side-effect. Or just another effect. I don't know. Maybe I should've burned this friggin' place to the ground when I had the chance. The cats feel it, too... they've been sticking by me. Thus far, Trevor's gotten hit in the face with a door but that isn't drawers emptying, furniture on the ceiling, blood from the drains full-scale like it was before mama was forced out.
Sand's being... strong. Brave. Like always. It's that duty-man thing that I could just never get by. I know he'll come back with something. I know this will be okay. We sat on the couch this morning. In silence. I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to hear anything, and that was exactly it. It's grounded me.
And when I find out who's been screwing with me, I'm going to kick their frickin' kneecaps into their teeth.
