Log
from July 25th:
THE
CONVOCATION BEDTIME STORY
When
lightning strikes
And
storms brew
They’ll
take my breath
My
spirit, too
They’re
taking me up
Somewhere
high
Their
calls ring out
The
feathers fly
They
pecked my eyes
My
viscera spilled
A
Murder’s home
But
not yet killed
A
living Nest
An
awful itch
My
scars mean I’ve
Become
a witch.
July
25:
That was an excerpt from Jack’s book to keep the children
entertained while I talk to the adults. Incidentally, are there any Scarlet-marked on here who let their children read
this? Is it like a family-bonding thing, the kind of event that’s practiced in
other religions? “Gather ‘round, family, while I read you my favourite Bible
story.”
Wow, that was presumptuous even for me. Didn’t mean to call myself a
religion.
Religions are based on second-hand, loosely-interpreted stories.
This is beyond gospel.
Or maybe there are little Hunter-lets or Runner-babies crawling over
keyboards and checking out the latest news… I’m all for romance on the Running
scene.
Anyway.
My Priestess is alive and well, and back home. I’ve insisted on
taking over my own blog for the next little while, though. She really needs to
gain her strength back, and since she seems to be bleeding faster than her body
can produce more, god knows she needs her rest and a high-iron diet.
Razzie and Jack have been very sweet. They brought her a whole
liver, a few hours ago. She didn’t seem exactly thrilled, but she did wind up
eating it after we seared the fucker for a good half-hour.
I’m not sure what the liver was from,
but she didn’t ask, so I didn’t, either.
To my point: it seems someone has tracked down my Priestess’s
personal email account. They’ve been sending her messages, calling her ‘his’. I’ll
paste the most recent one in here:
My Priestess,
we both know you were chosen for a greater calling than merely
spreading our word. we are beyond these simple chores, and you – our chosen –
deserve to serve a greater vessel than this ‘magnet’.
i am a great vessel. where she has weaknesses, i have none.
where your city is in a state of decay, mine has already reached the dirty
depths – the moral pillars have crumbled and the MARKED are in prime position
to take over. think of what you could accomplish here!
give it thought, my Priestess. i will wait to hear from you
RUSS
First off, what the fuck kind of name is ‘Russ’?
Second: back the fuck off, Russ. I found her first.
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