museworks: (Lucrezia)
I have come to the conclusion that when the time comes for me to allow my brother to read this journal, he may get a headache from the different manners of writing I seem to have used. Sometimes I know I slip into a formal voice; for some reason when I write memories, that voice makes it easier for the words to come out. Proper phrasing, no contractions, and so forth. I don't know why, but if it makes it less difficult to face them enough to write down, and write down plainly, so be it. As it is I can't make myself write too many close together. I think the Tome helps there; even though those two individuals with whom I seem to regularly speak are...quite peculiar in their own separate ways, and the "public" pages are themselves full of peculiar individuals, it still is an outlet. And I surprise myself sometimes when writing, as I had last night.

After closing the Tome last night I dreamt of Lazirus-- the aforementioned "slow fellow". I am not so certain he is slow as much as perhaps naive. I would not count him among the smartest individuals, no, but he seems perhaps...underdeveloped, mentally and maybe emotionally. In the manner of one not yet grown. I have been assuming he is grown, but I suppose-- anyhow. I had conversations with him and with Vorrick-- the peculiar gardener. Separate ones on separate private pages.

With Vorrick, I was glad to see he was as well as he seems capable of being; I know few details about his personal problems beyond there being some unpleasantries between him and 'SnowMoth' from the Tome. And by 'unpleasantries' I mean the latter had the former's hands broken, it would seem. But still wants to...keep track of him, even sent him a new tome after Vorrick had burnt his. It's odd to an outside observer who has only seen the vaguest details.

With Lazirus, I just would like to see him not hurt. He said he was supposed to have started work yesterday, but that he was rebuffed quite rudely when presenting his papers (why did they keep his papers?) and doing what that guardian figure of his said. It seems to be a strange situation and I don't know that I should inquire further, but I also don't wish to see him hurt.

Note to self: Look up information on Sir Andovar Thorndawn of the Blood Knights. Ask Chesric if he is familiar with the name and/or man, as a paladin himself.

My thoughts are very disjointed this morning, I notice, when reading over what I have written thus far. And I had written of a dream. Nightmare, really, though not quite to the cold-sweat, heart-pounding, almost-kill-your-concerned-brother-for-frightening-you extent of previous ones. More of the heart-wrenching variety.

Dreaming. (Also, possible triggery warning.) )
museworks: (Default)
I am giggling nonstop at messages from [ profile] vorrick as Lazirus Lownoon. Especially when he makes a joke followed by "ha ha this is a joke". He's making even the rather dour Lucrezia smile a little.
museworks: (Lucrezia)
I had another nightmare last night. Thankfully they stopped being every night, and not only because of occasional use of the dreamless potion; I prefer to not take that every night if possible, only when I feel I truly need uninterrupted sleep and am somewhere I feel relatively secure. This time my brother did not stand over my bed to wake me. In fact, he did not disturb me at all and let me wake on my own, but when I awoke again this morning he was leaning on my bed asleep. Apparently he had brought a chair up from downstairs to sit beside me. I wish I knew what goes on in his mind, in dealing with me; I do not ask, but I wish I knew. I have a strange-- I would not say 'morbid' as death is not involved, but perhaps 'dark'?-- fascination with how he sees me now. From when he smuggled me out of the Redbrook estate, to now when we sleep in our beds at night in this house we now share. I know he keeps a journal of his own, but I have not asked about it, nor he of mine.

Ches brought me a postcard, sent by Longshadow. I will pen a response soon, but I find I am quite curious about the man's circumstances. He is a very peculiar man-- as noted before-- and one whose business I believe it is best to keep at a distance, as concerned as I find myself growing. Though I also am curious about the...interactions between him and the one calling himself 'SnowMoth' in the Tome. Broken fingers, burnt tomes, and so forth. I told the death knight, in the Tome, that the gardener had burnt his; he (the death knight) mused on sending Longshadow another. I do not know that it would be useful and I certainly doubt it would be well-received, but I do not think I would inquire further. Their issues are their own. I think being a vague outside observer is perfectly fine. I imagine that sword/moth symbol on the crate I'd broken up and burnt, at Longshadow's request, belongs to that death knight. Curious.

I sent the slow fellow in the Tome an inquiry as to his well-being; just a brief one, but I find myself oddly concerned for him. Perhaps because he seems so...trusting. Nice. And I do not like the idea of that being ruined, even if it might simply be a part of life with which he will have to become accustomed someday. I suppose, even though I rarely take up my shield anymore, there is a vague sort of protectiveness lingering still. I do hope this "Sir Thorndawn" is not training him to be a blood knight.

I should venture out today, and take care of some tasks. Earn some more gold. Otherwise I fear I will become a shut-in, simply because this home has a strange sort of peacefulness to it that I do not wish to leave. Not leaving, though, would likely lead to complacence, which I cannot afford at the moment. As much as I want to block out everything outside this house and the few surrounding acres, and focus only on myself, my middling attempts at gardening, and my brother, I should not.


museworks: (Default)

July 2011

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