stormraven: (Default)
Well. This was...an interesting end to the week, to say the very least.

Clubbing on Thursday was fun, as it always is. I think I got my share of looks. I really did enjoy shopping with Stevi. Perhaps I'll have to go with her again, some time.

Friday was relatively uneventful. At least, it began uneventfully. I slept in, and got an odd call on my cell phone that woke me up.  I did not know who this David Ceras was, but he was very polite when he asked to speak to me, if I was Sara Ravensclaw, and he also asked if I would meet him at a coffee shop in Rhydin.  As that is the name I use when I am on Earth, of course I agreed.

I am still, as ever, as gullible a fool as I ever was.

Apparently this David Ceras was a member of one Celestial Chorus. Morgan has mentioned them before, and I have read his journal entries about them as well.  I suppose that since they could not get his sword directly from him, the original plan was to ask me to steal it somehow. I! Stealing Morgan's sword as if I were some sort of thief!

I refused. When I did so, two other men appeared out of nowhere, as I was leaving. A brief struggle, and they put some sort of cloth filled with ether or some sort of noxious liquid on it before my nose and mouth, and I passed out.

I woke up--I know not where. Oh, the room itself was pleasant enough, furnished and much like a hotel, but off.  There was a door, but with no knob inside of it, and it felt very strange. They must have had good surveillance on Morgan and the mansion, because these people were at least remotely aware of my own abilities.

I attempted a Gate, but there was no way I could anchor a portal back home. When I did my best to break out via the door or the wall, the materials simply shifted back beneath my own magick, repairing themselves and making themselves whole. All my mental shouting did no good, and I was not about to wreck my voice for their satisfaction!

I do not honestly know why I was returned when I was, but this evening, Ceras and his two lackeys came in to my room and told me I was going home.

I have never been so happy in my life.  I am free, and Morgan did not give up his sword. Not for me.  And I am home.

Curse them all.
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I--no. No.

I spoke to Mike today, that was an interesting phone call, to say the very least. I will say no more.

Penrith and I are meeting for lunch tomorrow.

I think I finally realize what Morgan has meant all along about Irina. I have...I do not think I have been anything but nice to her, and yet...it is as if I have said evil things about her, to her! I do not know! She accused us all of calling her a slut tonight, and--no. No, I am not nearly so opaque.

I thought we were friends. And she said evil and hurtful things...

I am foolish and naive, as if I have just come here.  And clearly the fires have not tempered me enough.

Time to put the sword back into the flame.
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I do not know where to start.  One of these days, I imagine I will go over my journal, and count how many times I have said this.

Mike and Irina and even Morgan were acting so very strangely tonight! I do not even know how to describe it. Mike was all cuddly with me, and Irina stared at her soup as she does so very often, with this irritated look on her face.  Then again, Morgan seemed just as irritated for a while.

There was a new woman at the tavern tonight. Siofra. She brought the most wonderful pies. I would like to speak to her again, though she did sort of stare at me.  I have not really had to deal with that much since I have come here, so that was...unusual.  Not precisely uncomfortable, these days, though.

I have finally broken down and brought home a pair of kittens of my very own. They are both half-grown. One is a buff tabby female, whom I call Sunsinger, and then there is her brother, who is a silvery lynx point Siamese, I am told. I have called him Shadowdancer. More correctly, Sun and Shadow, for short. Morgan is very amused, but he was surprised. "Storm, why are there six cats on my bed? That's two more cats than I own!"  But I explained and it is all good. That is, if I can prevent his sire from chasing them around the house in wolf form.

Speaking of Morgan, we went free-climbing this weekend, and that was a lot of fun. We had a picnic at the very top of the rock formation, cliff, whatever it should be called.  And we also watched the sun go down. All in all, it was very pleasant.

Likely I should sleep now, as I intend to call Mike tomorrow as he asked me to, and I have to work at the shelter tomorrow. Also I should find a vet for the kittens. They are up to date on their shots and such, but anything to ensure their health is all to the good. I cannot do it all myself, after all.
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I have been doing a great deal of thinking, which means I am uncertain where I should start.

Little things first, perhaps. I have become better friends with Mike, although his shay'kreth'ashke, Allen, I am not so sure of. But even had I never seen my parents and their love, I would know that these two? They are lifebonded. I did not know they had such a thing here. Though that makes me feel foolish--why would such a thing not be universal? The gods are not that cruel.

Morgan's parents went to visit his sister this week.  I knew she was pregnant, but his mother also announced last weekend that she was expecting, as well. I will be surrounded by littles, even more so than I was this weekend with the children of Mike's brother Raph.  I do still feel bad that David was so uncomfortable around me, though Mike reassured me that it was simply his age.  And that I am pretty. I do not know.

Mike has also taken a great many baby pictures of Aten for Morgan, at my behest.   I do have to admit that it was one of my better inspirations, having Morgan and Aten sit for photos. I do not think he had many, if any, of her before then. Oh, now that his parents are back, they have pictures and all, but...I do not know, photos are such magickal things to me anyway! We always had to sit for portraits at home, and they never seemed to turn out quite so perfect...

But, I have been thinking. Perhaps this is bringing healing, and perhaps not, I do not even know. I may be an Adept, and a Healing-Adept, but even we do not always know our own minds. This past winter if nothing else has shown me that. I have turned more to introspection, thus, and made a few discoveries.

My brother--an attack of his like could never, never happen to me again.  The sad thing, perhaps, is had I been more wary to begin with, and less trusting, it would never have happened in the first place. This, however, is a flaw I still carry with me to this day--I wish to trust first, and only after I have been hurt, do I learn my lesson.  There are times that I wish that this were not the case. If it were not, I would not be myself. It is something I must accept.

 I will never stop missing my parents. I admit I am a tiny bit jealous of Morgan being able to bring his back, but they are such a family and so loving, it does not last. They have accepted me as well, and that amazes me somewhat. I should not question this too much. I have kin-clansmen who would chastise me for looking a gift horse in the mouth, after all.

I am even a bit jealous of Mike and Allen, also, I would admit. There is some point where every child dreams of finding that one person who is the other half of one's soul, even if such a thing is entirely unlikely for certain people. And yes, I admit here that I speak of myself. I do not mourn it, truly, I just...have a difficult time believing that anyone is capable of that.  Morgan says I have low self-esteem. I was not always this way. I am working to get better.

It is all I can do. I must keep fighting.
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I have brought Mara back.   My sweet dark sister, I cannot make all right with your world once more...but it is a start.

Of course, Morgan took that as a betrayal. He has lost some trust in me, it seems, and there is nothing I may do. I walk my path alone. I knew this from the beginning; it seems now that things are simply cementing this. I am...hurt, to think that he believes I ever would do something to harm Aten. I never would...I never would!

So now, I do what I must. If Morgan has regained any of his trust in me, it has been supplanted with worry.  I have girded myself for war, and am doing things distasteful to me to make ready.  I will not be lax, this time. I cannot be.

There is a bright spot in all this worry and exhaustion., despite the problems its doing brought Morgan. He has his parents back.  They are brave warriors, as well, and they dote upon Aten as much as their son could ever want. 

It is good.
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Havoc tells me I should stop eating before bedtime. Not that I truly eat before bedtime. That is reserved for Aten--she needs to eat, and so she is fed. More so now than ever.

But back to Havoc.  I told him that I had been having dreams. Dreams about Mara, or perhaps they are nightmares. I do not know. Considering who holds her in thrall, I should not be surprised that I am having nightmares. In any case, that reply--about not eating--was the response he gave me. Very funny.

I have not told Morgan yet. Mostly because I do not think he would approve. That or he would worry, and I--he worries enough.

There is a tree.  It was growing outside the Rose, and I dug it up one night when he had stayed home with Aten.  I brought it home with me, and I planted it near my haven.  It is...growing very large, now, in an unnatural span of time. There is something strange about it. I do not like to think about that, either, but the only answers I have come from my dreams. Nightmares. Call them what you will.

I do not know what to make of Morgan either. He is...somewhat lost, and he hides his vulnerability behind a facade of cheer and the ever present obliviousness.  He is trying to be friends with the siblings, Sheena and Patrick Kelethin...

Patrick...I simply do not know what to make of him. He confuses me.  Sheena...I get a bad taste in my mouth from her. She ignores my existance unless she simply must acknowledge me.  But both siblings simply fawn over Morgan. There is something strange there.

I do not know what to do.  Mara...Tell me. Tell me what to do, if you can.

::Scrawled along the bottom edge of the page are a number of odd, possibly meaningless symbols::
stormraven: (Default)
I...have returned. If what I have done can be called a 'return'.  For I did not truly leave anything, save my senses.  It does not surprise me, only saddens me, to know that it has been over a year since I realized I had this journal, much less wrote in it. Hai, things change in a year, and how they do...

I have lost much, but not as much as some.  The words that hurt too much to say out loud, I can speak so easily here. And they sit, flat, mere writing on a page, and I wonder how they can hurt so much?

My bond with Rieka is gone. A product of my madness. I do not know where he is, nor do I know if I could renew the bond we had. I do not want to try. He had mated when I was so ill last year...if he is happy where he is, so be it. I pray it is so.  Still, that hurts.

If only it were that alone! Diast is gone. Morgan tells me she died giving birth to their daughter--who is a very small ray of sun in the clouds that we both have in our lives.  Aten will make her parents proud someday, this, I know.

Mara is also gone. I...it is too fresh, I cannot write more.
stormraven: (Default)
I have not written in overlong. I have not felt like it. I have not wanted to.

I cannot even say I want to, now, even. But there should be some sort of...I do not know, record, of what is going on. With me. Even the Mage of Silence was good at keeping those. I suppose he had scribes, and I do not, but...what does it matter?

I am frightened, and uncertain, and I do not even know why. I do not know why my mother's people called our powers 'gifts' when at the moment, having them feels more like a curse.

I do my best to simply endure and keep my mind off things, but it is not always easy.

The other night at the 'Rose, I was accosted by a boy with more feline traits than I have. He has cat ears and a tail...I do not know if he has claws. He stole from me--and then offered it back. Brave. As if he were doing me a favor! I do not understand it. There are still ways that this world is nothing like mine...and yet I had the chance to go home, and I refused it. I know there is nothing for me there.

That was strange enough. Last night, at the tavern again...I do not even know what happened, after some man grabbed me as I walked through the market. He was drunk, and he grabbed me. I fear for what he actually wanted. I do not know!

I went to the Tavern. Ran. I must have fallen in my flight--when I arrived Morgan asked me if I was all right. I said yes, but I think I lied. My stomach betrayed me later, and my words betray me now.

What is wrong with me?
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Elf. Pointy eared humanoids are elves. Some elves are nice, but the one last night...

Faladar. Seamus called him Faladar. He is mad, mad, and that madness of his rubbed my nerves raw. Even with the drink Mara gave me. The drug. It was not a bad thing. I am a healer, and I know...

No. I will stay true to my focus. Well. The madman said he knew what Mara was. Moriaki. I have never heard such a word. Harpy unicorn. Those words are also unfamiliar to me, but I have my ways to find out information! I intend to use them!

I had to help Seamus and Mara restrain Salvador. I cannot help but think there shall be repercussions to that. I am almost certain of it. It is only a matter of when.

But for the moment it is not Salvador I fear. It is this unknown and insane elf. He knows...I have no idea what he knows, if I were not afraid for my own sanity I would open his mind, but...no.

He knows something. More than he says, he claimed that some sort of pirate raiders destroyed her home.

My question is....*how does he know this*? Tempers were too high to note this last night...but I must remember.

I must also speak with that strange man. Hiroyuki. Some instinct tells me he might be of service.

I must remember.
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Mara left the other night. She went to go live with Sal. She seemed very happy about it.

I...would not say no to her about that. But she asked me to come with her, and that is what I told her no about.

I do not know Salvador well enough to like him, I do not know him at all. And the first time I saw him, he was not sane. I know Mara loves him. I could let her go for that. But I could not live with him. I just could not.


Morgan and Diast have their own problems. Ones that seem very serious. And so save for Rieka, I am alone. And for once, I truly feel that way. It is a task to simply ignore it.

I suppose I shall have to try harder at that task.
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I can at least say that I am recovering--recovered, really, from the headache I gave myself. Healing should not take so much from me, but I stubbornly, as ever, forget that I am still learning about the way things are here, and here is not home.

Not that home was *home*, but it was what I knew.

I have thrown myself into work, to prevent myself getting maudlin. I have no reason to be. I am enjoying myself, for the most part, because Mara, as always, is a doll.

And the pair of us are plotting. I am enjoying this idea for a venture. Although I imagine there are some who will claim we are far too young to go into business.

Bah, I say. It is not as if I will take her away from learning, and Mara has endured too much to truly be thought of as a child.

Besides, it is a dream only, at the moment. One I will hold in both fists.
stormraven: (Default)
WHY do they thank me for doing what I am SUPPOSED to do?

Is it so common that people are left to die here?

I will never understand this land! Never!
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I never should have left to bond with the land. It was a foolish mistake. Mara...has done something. I know not what. She is all right, but she is asleep. Morgan does not want to wake her up. I do not want to wake her up.

I do not know what to do.

And Morgan is...I do not even know what to call him. But walking in on him and some insidious pair of perchi at the tavern...I do not know what to say.

I have no more to say.
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There is a girl who has rapidly become my best friend.

I cannot say I know a great deal about her, as it is difficult to have deep and heartfelt conversations with someone whose tongue has been cut out, but she does not seem to let that stop her. We have had a great deal of fun since I have arrived, and I like her a great deal.

I wish I could write better, here, but I am still learning English. So it seems I am writing more like an English textbook than anything more emotional. It is very frustrated.

I do like Mara, though. She is like the little sister my parents never gave me.
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I do not know how long I have been here, but I do not think I mind. I know for a fact that there are those that this seems strange to, Morgan being primary among these. He wishes so violently to have a place to belong and a family, and sometimes that blinds him to everything else, I think. Especially when he has these things.

I, who have none of these now, and am...content, if not happy...I confuse him. I do not know how to explain it. I was accepted among my people, indeed, but my talents were not irreplaceable. Now that I have disappeared, there, I may be missed, but my parents died when I was younger, and there will be no one to truly miss me. So in the end...it does not matter.

Here, that may be changing. And if it does, I will welcome such a change.

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August 2007

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