in the silence of the desert, in the bellows of the sea (part XV)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from part XIV.)

Hiram Abriff sat in the temple. He didn't look as imposing as Hiro expected he intended. The stonemason was a small framed man, not at all imposing, seated between the two pillars, like the Tarot card of the high priestess--the traditional placing framed by Boaz and Jocham.

"Were you summoned and sent?"

"Neither."

"No one 'chooses' to come here. I did not, she did not. I would wager the Crawling Darkness himself was sent by someone else."

The torches lit the half built chamber. Two workers high up on a parapet seemed to be stacking bricks that appeared from nowhere on a floating wooden platform. The workers from a distance looked like they were wearing olive-colored reptile skins.

Hiro shifted uncomfortably in the wooden cage. "I need to stand up. Stretch a bit--"

Hiram laughed. "No, Cat Man. Not happening. I want to be back in Brooklyn. Ya know? Cool Brooklyn, post vaccine in a 21st Century civil war timeline, or maybe in one of the Masonic Imperial time lines..."

Hiro listened. Involuntarily flexing his claws. Staring at the throat of who he thought would soon be a victim.

Hiram was wearing a silk tunic. On his hands, several large rings with arcane symbols.

Hiro heard foot steps on the stone floor, he looked to see Bilqis. Alone. Approaching.

"Ah, hello, love," Hiram called out. "He finally gave you a pass? Or with one of his other toys?"

“Ambien in the wine. Worked. I don’t know what we will do when we run out." Bilqis sat on a cushion facing Hiro's cage. She looked over her shoulder at Hiram. "Why is he still in the cage? Is this your idea of befriending him?"

"Uh...well, we were..."

She turned to look at Hiro. She smiled. She looked ethnically Latina or maybe mixed race. In the throne room she had a distinctly more exotic and at the same time regal look. Now her demeanor was less constrained.

"Kitty, what has my boyfriend told you about this mess we are in?"

"Not much, he..."

Hiram interrupted "Ha, the Queen is renowned for her humor, the only mess is what to do with this vile..."

Bilqis rolled her eyes so that only Hiro could see.

"So, not much."

He shook his head.

"Well, I'll do it. After you understand the facts, I will unlock you. Like you, we came from somewhere and when. Also, like you, something pulled you to this place and you can't get out of the 'well'."

Hiro nodded. "A gravity well?"

Hiram spoke up. "More like a probability well."

"Events, timelines, magic, accidents, etc., all pull back to this general point. Actually, goes a few hundred years back."

"We are hoping your Tardis would be functional..."

Hiro shakes his head. "I am not Gallifreyan. Nor would I have access to that technology."

"Nevertheless, you had access to something, but maybe you didn’t understand it? The signs and sigils were right in front of you all the time?"

Hiro tried to hide his confusion. "I...don't..."

The woman leaned in. "Kitty...we need to run some tests. You shouldn't have been able to come here with the counter measures. We don't know how it happened. But if you can do it, maybe others can. We need to know before HE blocks your magic, or tech--or both."

Hiro bumped his head on the top of the cage.

"Ouch. Get me out of this. Give me my clothes back and can we talk like civilized beings?"

Bilqis glanced at Hiram. "Banish the workers. I think it will be okay."

"But if it isn't? You cannot trust them, I have told you."

Hiram stood up and walked out of Hiro's line of sight. Hiro could smell a burning of some incense.

Bilqis unlocked the cage. The leopard man crawled out. He looked around the large room. Behind the pillars was a smaller room, it would have been the Holy of Holies--the inner sanctum. Hiram emerged from within it holding a scroll.

"Bil--we have a shift."

"Oh?"

"Yes, an obvious one. A big change. Here, look--"

He opened the scroll for Bilqis to read. "We have never seen this blatant of a shift."

"Okay, let’s send word--"

"What is the planned medium?" Hiram asked.

"Wait--what are you talking about?" Hiro looked from the queen to the stonemason.

"Here, she'll read it, and we will explain. But get dressed first." Hiram tossed Hiro his uniform. "Put this on, mate."

Bilqis read:

This is from Genesis, what you
you may have called the Bible or Torah:

Now the leopard was more crafty than any of the wild animals the Lord God had made. He said to the man, "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?"
The man said to the leopard, "We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden,
but God did say, 'You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.'"
"You will not certainly die," the leopard said to the man. "For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."
When the man saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, he took some and ate it. He also gave some to his wife, who was with him, and she ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked, so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.

Bilqis looked up at Hiro.

"This is different than I learned it."

Bilqis nodded. "Yes, it means HE is worried about you. Enough to alter scripture."

"Who are you talking about, and how..."

"There isn't time, we need to get word out and ask some questions of our teammates in the future."

"You can talk to the future? Sign me up, I need to get word out."

"Hiro, it isn’t that easy. Let us explain..."

(Continued in part XVI.)

wisdom starts to drown, this ship is going down (part XIV)

Didn't find another email/reply in chat, but...found a poem. So this is now where this series ends.

severance

great joy and great depression
interwoven, delicate, persistent
threads of connection binding
me to him. fragile as we go and
so easily broken.

but my heart is an echo chamber
and the only voice I can hear is mine
I walk the jagged pathways to
the place where you lived
and I am finding only dust and memories
tarnished moments I’m trying very hard
not to regret.

and I love you, but I cannot find you
I cannot stand in the empty chamber
you made your own. you said you would
always be there but
you have removed yourself from my view
no trace of your passing I can find and
no mention, no word.

the condensation of your breath
has evaporated so completely even
the glass is gone, so
what am I to do?

I say I choose my own path now
I say your vows broken mean
my obedience is no longer required
I say I have removed your bindings
though the day will come that I will weep again
at laying your collar--something I viewed
as a lifetime commitment--on the floor.

but this is my end
there are still questions, which
may not ever resolve, but
now I take my pain, I take
my confusion, my hurt and anger
the scars I yet bear and
the flame of my love

and I set them aside. love alone
cannot sustain the bound heart
so I take my heart back. by
sea and shore, by sky and stone, I take
myself back.

and if you still live, o my love
I free you also, with
all that can wish you well left in me
but I’m closing the door, o my love
and this time
I will not answer.
~11/29/2012

November, 2012. It's about the right time. And this may actually be the 'goodbye letter' I sent him. If not, I used words from this in it, because it--especially the last two stanzas--rings with a sense of familiarity that goes beyond the fact I wrote it.

So. That, I think, is truly that, for now.

(Except...no, there's still one last one to come.)

now I'm all messed up, and it feels like the first time

I was at the Wandering Star, and the DJ was having a bit of trouble, getting the stream going. This one is unanonymized, simply because we refer to him so often.

[12:22] Verdant Homewood: things settling down now...
[12:22] Verdant Homewood: just need to think of what to play....

[12:22] Safar Fiertze: you alright now Verd? Need me to refill your glass, light your pipe, fix a bowl of crips?
[12:23] Verdant Homewood: all of the above Saf :))
[12:24] Safar Fiertze: ^-^
[12:24] Safar Fiertze: I guess I'll brb
[12:24] Jewell (fallenaurora.jewell): hehe
[12:24] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Also, how do you DO that with your spine

I'm not kidding. He was doing this:



How...why...HOW...

[12:24] Eio Tuqiri: back
[12:24] Jewell (fallenaurora.jewell): rofl
[12:24] Jewell (fallenaurora.jewell): wb
[12:25] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): That looks SO uncomfortable
[12:25] Jewell (fallenaurora.jewell): rrofl
[12:25] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): WHY
[12:26] Jewell (fallenaurora.jewell): you are freaking out folks hehe

Just a tad.



Keep in mind, his torso was rotating around, his legs were pretty much just stuck in place.

[12:26] Jewell (fallenaurora.jewell): hi Lou
[12:26] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): I think I'm losing oxygen to my brainmeats, I'm laughing so hard
[12:26] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Hi Lou!
[12:26] Lou Cypher (888lucifer888): greetings Everyone
[12:26] Jewell (fallenaurora.jewell): giggles
[12:26] Eio Tuqiri: brainmeats lol
[12:27] Eio Tuqiri: Hi Lou
[12:27] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): I mean...in a way...it IS impressive

In a very dire way.

[12:27] Vivix3n (ainanna): Hi Luci
[12:27] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): And of course he's playing a song that says "I open myself to extreme possibilities"
[12:27] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): TAKING THAT TO HEART, I SEE

[12:28] Verdant Homewood: Hey Lou and Anka!
[12:28] Rory Torrance (rory.torrance): is verdant having a stroke?
[12:28] SilenceKnight: back
[12:28] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): I don't know!

Well, if it was a stroke, it was just a digital one.

[12:28] Rory Torrance (rory.torrance): ya look away for a minute...
[12:28] Lou Cypher (888lucifer888): Hello Safar, Robin, Verdant, Jewell, Silent, Eio, Lia, Rat, Emilly and Vivi
[12:28] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): I KNOW
[12:28] SilenceKnight: greetings Lo
[12:28] SilenceKnight: u
[12:28] robin helsinki (r0bin.helsinki): hi lou [12:28] Rat Xue: verd lookin gud from my pov
[12:29] Rory Torrance (rory.torrance): he's okay now
[12:29] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): plz Verd. plz stop opening yourself to extreme possibilities.
[12:29] Safar Fiertze: dancing's a bit borked again for me. He had a moment of normalcy
[12:29] Verdant Homewood: I
[12:29] Eio Tuqiri: Verd is looking a little uh sideways
[12:29] Verdant Homewood: Can't
[12:29] Verdant Homewood: help
[12:29] Verdant Homewood: myself
[12:29] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr) whispers: Well, then it's just me, and I am KEEPING THESE PICTURES

[12:29] Safar Fiertze: which was almost scary
[12:29] robin helsinki (r0bin.helsinki): looks ok to me
[12:30] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Okay, this is official better than a ritual I went to a couple months back, where the priestess invoked Dionysus and none of the poseball sets would work after :D

[12:30] Safar Fiertze: haha
[12:30] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): And that was high comedy
[12:30] Safar Fiertze: I'll bet
[12:31] SilenceKnight: Dionysus doesn't like poseballs...interesting
[12:32] Eio Tuqiri: heh heh
[12:32] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Yeah, who knew?
[12:32] SilenceKnight: this is the 21st century

The man is amazing, though--despite the spine breaking and the technological glitching, he still played on, and played wonderful tunes for us to share. So it wasn't all bad.

Even if I died laughing.

and I won't lay down, there's a darker shade of courage (part XIII)

(Continued from part XII.)

A longer one, again. Two years have passed at this point.

Nov 28, 2015, 11:51 AM

[given name],

Still breathing. Occasionally wondering why. I think it's more habit than desire at this point.

In the writing of the...whatever it is...I've been doing this November, I've been trying to cull from all sources to track down things. Conversations we've had, notes both in and out of world, fragments of thought in all the places I have to store them. I haven't worked through physical notebooks; not sure I'm going to, because there's more than enough words to evaluate and transcribe from email, iPod and notes saved on the comp.

Anyway, I found a more exhaustive transcription of the September incident, and thought I'd toss it in here. Again, no idea why, other than it's become habit to write to you.

Shadow man. Missing Master. Shadowmancer, High Priest of the Hourglass. I'm amusing my brain coming up with alternate titles for you, when before, 'love' or your name were more than enough. There's a morbid humor there, somewhere, or maybe it's just me.

Anyway, the note. It's from another note on the iPod, dated July 23, 2012:

"It's a quarter to two and I've been seen for my somewhat yearly mammogram. The breast health center moved from an overly pink office, suffused with ruffles and quilting, to a more neutral structure, all exposed beams and copper-cast, oversized gingko leaves.

"I have about an hour to kill and--sitting outside of the hospital--every excuse assumed if I don't get through this without tears.

"So. Day before yesterday, around five in the morning, I decided to stop staring out the window sleeplessly and I started writing on the iPod, the way I'm doing now. I came about as close as I've ever come to a straight goodbye letter--at least, when the goal is to say anything but goodbye.

"As one might imagine, this left me emotionally unsteady, but after spending some time watering the pillow with silent tears, I thought I'd regained some measure of control, and finally fell asleep.

"The next day, all I wanted--ALL I wanted--was to take some in-game pics of an ongoing charity event. Unbeknownst to me, one of my computer case fans was on its last legs. Added to this was the fact that I'm having animation caching issues which were frustrating enough on their own to deal with.

"I overslept, which meant I woke up with the perception I was already late on things. A friend of mine, far more technically savvy than I am, was trying to analyze why the animations weren't working for me. I'd spent the first hour being awake in stripping down an extra AO device and packing it with static (AKA, unmoving) animations to make it easier to take pictures.

"Then the fan cut out. My mouse froze on the screen and nothing would get it moving again. Finally, I hard-crashed the computer, breathed for a bit, then tried to start the computer again.

"And nothing. Oh, it started fine, but when it hit the verification screen after the BIOS, it wouldn't load.

"And I...just dissolved. No amount of coping strategies stopped me crying, and I was simultaneously hurt, angry and afraid. And the one thing my brain seized on to make it better was cutting.

"Now, for anyone who doesn't know the story--or hasn't seen the pictures. because I'm not sure I'm just going to send it to you--in September of 2002, we were in a situation where we had given notice to move on our place, and suddenly had no money to move. As it turned out, we spent the last three weeks in Spokane surfing various friends' couches, feeling like we were leeches on our friends' generosity, but at that time, in September, we had no idea where we were going, and both Cat and I were under a crashing burden of stress.

"Another step back--since I hit puberty, I've off and on used self-mutilation as a way to deal with emotional stress. While this absolutely wasn't helped by the old boyfriend who stubbed cigarettes out on my arms, and my natural propensity to scar from non-self-inflicted wounds, I will say it's been something I've struggled with for decades.

"Back to 2002. Late one night, after yet another argument over money, I was sitting up at the computer and got the strong urge to cut. I sat there for two hours, feeling helpless against this compulsion, and finally decided if I was going to do this, I was by the gods going to make it memorable.

"I found a very sharp kitchen knife and a seam cutter I wouldn't need past that night. I went to the bathroom and got alcohol, gauze, antibiotic ointment and tape. I returned to the kitchen with two more things: a small, blue glass bowl, a lit candle, and a glass of Bombay gin and tonic water over ice.

"For the next two hours, I set to work. Sterilize the skin, make the cuts. Sterilize the skin again, the blade again, breathe through the alcohol's bite, make the cuts. Take a sip of gin, breathe, and sterilize the skin again. Shudder with the pain and do it all again.

"It felt longer, but that was the first hour. When I was finished, I heated the blade edge of the seam ripper, and burned along the cuts, sterilizing and reheating the seam ripper as I went.

"That took the other hour, and I now know how I would smell cooking. When it was all over, I dressed the wound, carefully bandaging it, finished the last inch of gin, and went to bed.

"For the next ten years, this has worked as a deterrent. When I've really wanted to cut, I think of how branding myself felt, and I don't. Sometimes I actually have to reach up, and trace the marks, but...it's enough, and I don't.

"So. Yesterday. Sent what my mind is thinking as the Goodbye Letter, without ever actually using that word. Feeling an inordinate pressure to cover Hair Fair, even though logging onto SL makes me depressed and jittery just logging in. More than a month of having my eyes blur, trying to take pictures through flawed, stuttering animations on my virtual self.

"And at least three months, if not four at this point, of absolutely zero contact from that oh-so-distant love.

"And my computer dies and won't work. And I absolutely dissolved.

"And I wanted to cut. I even planned out where: a six-inch vertical slice down my right thigh. Thinking of the brand didn't stop me. Thinking of promises I made, to both myself and that distant love, didn't stop me.

"Somehow, somehow, I held to a state of teary, shuddery stasis, and went so far as to pick out a knife and walk around carrying it. I wracked my brain for any excuse to stop what I wanted to do.

"Standing in the kitchen. One hand on the sharpest knife we have. Going over how many gauze pads we have, where I can find paper tape, where I can track down antibiotic ointment. And it hits me: I do this, he wins.

"And I stood there. Thinking. Because [f*ck] him, he doesn't get to win. He doesn't get to break me because I'm too weak without him not to pick up old habits.

"And this week, especially. Today, annual mammogram. Tomorrow, food bank run. Wednesday, labs and bloodwork to see if all the stress of the last month has kicked my thyroid to the curb again. (Personal opinion: I think it has.)

"Then Thursday, Cat leaves for physical therapy. And she'll be gone at least a week, but all of us are suspecting at least a month away from us.

"I put the knife away. I dug around our limited stores of alcohol and resigned myself to a shot of Amaretto, because we have no rum or gin. I forced myself to make a salad, and grimly ate it while watching SVU episodes for the second season of the show. And I didn't stop crying for two hours.

"But there's no cut on my thigh. Granted, on occasion I'm tracing where it would have been with my thumbnail, but I'm not pressing hard enough even to scratch. The girls got home and they brought me coffee ice cream. The bad fan on the comp got changed, I downloaded new drivers for the video card, and spent time with old and new friends watching Spoony's latest Ultima review, and running around in City of Heroes.

"And I will count this down hour by hour if I have to, but I'm not giving in.

"But I'm back to fragile and insecure. And honestly, if this is what everyone else feels when they hurt, I'm wondering why in the hell I fought this hard to feel."

Again, not that you're reading these, but the beginning of this thread still mentions summer, and we are far from summer's balms. So I'm tying it up here, I'll start a new thread to not talk to you in.

[Em]

I'm stopping it here for a while. Not only because of the glut of revelation in this one, which I'm still going to end up publishing, because I'm me, but also, because these were just the ones that turned up on a search for first "poet" and then "others". It's a good general overview, and I think that's enough. For now.

No--one last bit, because I wanted to track down if I'd saved whatever I was considering as the final 'goodbye letter', and...I can't seem to find it. There seems to be a large gap of July 2012 missives, and I may have deleted it. But I found this, after finally making the call that went to his machine:

Sat, Nov 21, 2015, 2:28 AM

I know you're alive now.

And I still love you.

You're a goddamned idiot.

But I still do.

[Em]

And that is all of that.

(Written to OK Go's "Here It Goes Again" on repeat because I needed something more upbeat than memory.)

(And actually...there is one more.)

drive until you lose the road, or break with the ones you've followed

Thorvald Ragnarsson, the Gothi and owner of Thorvaldshavn, has been working on a revised calendar of Norse holidays and feast days, that steps away from some of the "traditional" (id est, "accepted" for the last few decades) Ásatrú holiday set. Partially, he wants something closer to how historical Nordic peoples worshipped, in their daily lives; partially, this is because Ásatrú is largely based in Icelandic reconstructed traditions, and his people hail from Norway.

But it's taken him several months to get this far, and he's given me permission to post this initial draft. This is his rundown for 2021, using the moon cycles of the Gregorian calendar, because they're slightly more accurate than the Julian.

(Also understand this is a calendar year designed to take into account the days and solar tilt of the lands centering on Norway, and not the world as a whole. Depending on where one is in the world, it will affect when these days start and end.)

2021 Moon Cycles of the Gregorian Calendar Year

Nàttleysi ( Nightless Days; Summer)

New Moon	11 April

New Moon	26 April	Harpla

New Moon	11 May

New Moon	26 May	Skerpla

New Moon	10 June

New Moon	24 June	Sólmánuður

New Moon	9 July

New Moon	23 July	Heyannir

New Moon	8 August

New Moon	22 August	Tvímánuður

New Moon	6 September

New Moon	20 September	Haustmánuður

Skammdegi (Short Days; Winter)

New Moon	6 October

New Moon	20 October	Gortmánuður

New Moon	4 November

New Moon	19 November	Ýlir

New Moon	4 December

New Moon	18 December	Mörsugur

New Moon	12 January

New Moon	28 January	Þorri

New Moon	11 February

New Moon	27 February	Gói

New Moon	13 March

New Moon	28 March	Einmánuður

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Average dates of the Solstices and Equinoxes:

Spring Equinox:

20 March

Summer Solstice:

20 June

Autumn Equinox:

22 September

Winter Solstice:

21 December

Lunar Month Length: 29.5 days
Lunar Year Length: 12.38 months

NORSE HOLIDAYS:

(The rest are largely still sourced from Ásatrúar holidays; some of the names and dates may change, some will remain. They're listed because they're mostly the wheel of the year that is celebrated in Nordic recreationist faiths.)

Þorrablot: or Husband's day, it was celebrated on the first day of Þorri in honour of all husbands and fathers. It was held in honour of Thor and of course, the winter spirit of Thorri.

Góublót: also known as "Wife's day", it took place on the first day of Gói in honour of all mothers and wives. It’s also a celebration of the end of winter.

Sigurdsblót: the first day of Harpa. A day to celebrate the beginning of Summer and the victory of light over darkness. Offerings to Freya were made during this festival.

Mid-Summar: a common festivity in many cultures, it was the celebration of light, fertility and music.

Alfarblót: the first day of Winter. It celebrates the last harvest of the year and it’s also associated with the goddess Freya. This festivity was celebrated in the privacy of each home, as opposed to the others and it was lead by the women of the house.

Jól or Yule: a festivity associated with the Wild Hunt and Odin and the predecessor of the modern Christmas celebrations in northern Europe.

Dísablót: the exact day of this celebration is unclear, some sources say it was held at the beginning of winter, others at the end of it or it might have been celebrated on both, actually. This festival honoured all the female figures: the disir (the female spirits of protection and fertility), goddesses, ancestors and other female figures of the Norse lore.

NORSE FESTIVAL DATES:

Disting or Disablot (February 2nd): a celebration of new beginnings and preparation of the land for planting.

Sigurdsblot (End of March): Sacrifices for prosperous harvests at the beginning of planting season.

Midsummar or Midsummarblot (June 21st): The date of this celebration can vary a little bit if you decide to do it on the actual Summer solstice. Bonfires, traditional music and the burning of corn dollies take place to celebrate the brightest time of the year.

Frey Feast or Freysblot (August 1st): Thanks giving for the fruits of the first harvest of the year. A loaf of bread is baked as an offering to the goddess Frey.

Fall Feast or Haustblot (September 23rd): this festivity falls on the Autumn equinox, so the date may vary a bit if you celebrate it on the actual astronomical event. It honours the second harvest of the season and it’s the time to gather food for the upcoming winter months. It's also a time to reflect on what we have achieved and to be thankful for what the Earth has given us.

Winter Nights or Vetrnaetr (October 31st): The end of the harvest season, which meant that it was time to use the meat of the farm animals and start hunting. It's also a night to reflect and honour ancestors, as well as the goddess Hela. The veil between the worlds is thinner during this night, so it's also a good time to do some divination for the year ahead.

Yule (December 20th-January 1st): the most important of all Norse holidays, it has a duration of 12 nights, starting on December the 20th. The darkest time of the year symbolizes the beginning and end of all things and it is when the gods and goddesses are the closest to Midgard. The dead return to Earth to share feasts with the living, but other magical creatures run freely at this time too, so be aware!

Please keep in mind that like many other things in Viking culture, some 'educated guesses' are made concerning the Norse culture.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

There's more to come, I'm sure. The names of some festivals may change; Thor's doing a great deal of research into the oldest mentions of feast days and festivals he can find, and who knows? Before he's done he may have a name for this reconstruction, and a book on how to worship. It would not be the first time a random thought led to a revolution, or a revelation.

I'm fascinated to see where this is going to go.

I've waited here for you forever (part XII)

"I come in peace. I didn't bring artillery. But I'm pleading with you, with tears in my eyes: if you [f**k] with me I'll kill you all."
~~Marine General James Mattis

(Continued from part XI.)

Another.

Sun, Oct 28, 2012, 7:11 PM

because there's just...no point anymore, is there?

I got turned down for disability. The medical doctor turned in three potential jobs I could do--all of them required lifting, standing, and/or kneeling to do the work, and one of them was seasonal only. The judge also didn't consider any medical findings earlier than 2004.

So...it's a no. I'm not sure if I'm going to challenge for a second appeal. I'm so tired of fighting.

And I don't know where you are. Where you went. And I'm tired of that too.

I still love you, but thinking of you depresses the hell out of me. I ran out of any resource I can think of last night, trying to track down [country]'s obituaries. I literally don't know what to do at this point.

[Em]

Another.

After several months of waiting, I've now had my first appointment with a rehab physician--he took an exhaustive medical history, poked in just about every painful area I have, and walked me out with a steroid injection in my left knee, a prescription for Voltaren (which my insurance likely won't cover), and a new type of non-opiate painkiller (which my insurance likely will). I'm to come in towards the end of December for a follow-up, and in the first or second week of January for a nerve induction test on my wrists.

I don't know why I'm telling you this. You're not there. You're dead or amnesiac or uncaring or lobotomized, but you're not THERE.

I don't know if I'll write again.

I may still try to call, but depending on what I find out, when and if I'm able to, I think that's the end of it for me. I'm trying to put myself together again enough to move on. There is a large part of my heart that will always be yours, and right now, I resent that more than a little, but I'll have to cope with that too.

[Em]

Another.

Thu, Mar 21, 2013, 6:21 PM

[given name],

Still miss you. Still don't know why you left. Still waiting for enough free in the budget to buy an international calling card.

I'll make the one call, and depending what I hear, I think that's well and truly the end of all things.

Still love you. But that just makes everything hurt worse.

I hope you're happy, wherever you are. I truly do. I hope you are blissfully happy, or at least content, and not in a coma, or dead, or simply perfidiously ignoring everything I send your way. In any world, with me or not, I'd rather you be alive and happy. And if it has to be without me, then I still know you're alive and happy, and for me, that would be enough.

It's the not knowing, the months of not knowing, that's shredding my heart.

Not yours (though I still want to be); not collared (and that's acid on the soul); and not part of your life anymore,

[Em]

At least one more to come.

(Coded to Daughtry's "Over You".)

if I can't see then I can't find (part XI)

(Continued from part X.)

A longer letter.

Jul 22, 2012, 7:08 AM

My dear one, I've been here in bed staring at the trees outside as the sky slowly lightens. I still have no answers, only more questions. Some nights it's difficult to sleep; other nights it's simply impossible. The only surety in all this confusion is that I love you, but that's starting to feel like silk ribbon on the wind, and I the one left on the ground, watching it braid the air as it drifts away.

The girl's leaving Thursday. I have my next disability hearing September 19th. The girls are hoping for good things, I'm just hoping I get through it without collapsing again.

And I wonder where you are. I wonder, and I worry, and I curse you, then curse myself for lacking faith. I inhale the world through my eyes and want to share it with you, then remember you're not there anymore. I want to share with you my discoveries, my successes, my failures, my finds--and then wonder why I'd bother.

Everything I've done to this point has had the end goal of staying together for you, for when you returned. Going back through old chats, old letters, all the poetry, everything was wrapped around that sole, focused desire.

But as I've said before, love doesn't conquer all. And if I've learned anything from the wreckage of my past, it's that some things, as much as we may wish otherwise, we simply can't recover from.

We're neither of us lucky enough for me to wish you well with a light heart and be on my way. But on the other hand, if you're no longer checking [your email]'s accounts, you've effectively made that decision for us, anyway, haven't you?

I'm not done crying over you, as inconvenient as it is at times. And if you never circle back to me, I will miss you the whole of my life. And I will always wonder why you left.

But you're just one more thing that slipped my grasp, [given name]. Something I've finally realized I seem to be very good at, much as I'd have it not be so. And mine is the task of watching your bright flame of silk wander far beyond my grasp.

And all the yearning I possess isn't enough to bring you back.

I'm not giving up completely, but I think there's less of wisdom, and more of utter stubborn idiocy to the decision.

Thus, I'll write when I have anything of importance to say, or in October. Whichever comes first.

Be well, [given name]. Be happy. Above all, be alive.

[Em]

More to come, probably.

(Coded to OK Go's "Get Over It".)

call my name, I'm still here (part X)

"When we long for life without difficulties, remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure."
~~Peter Marshall

(Continued from part IX.)

Another.

Jul 17, 2012, 10:00 PM

[given name],

I'm really starting to feel like the girlfriend of the Fisher King here. Only I don't have a body to visit in the hospital. I just have an absence.

I don't want you to be dead. I don't want you to be gone. But I still have no idea how to find out.

There was a lack of open beds in the in-house physical therapy hospital. But one's coming free on the 27th, so the girl's going in then. Possibly just with [other love], possibly with me, because we're not sure if she's going up by VA medical transport, or via LIFT and transfers. If LIFT, then I'll need to be the active client to bring [her] back home.

I need you, but you're not here, and that doesn't look like it's going to change. I'll write you when I have more to say.

It may be a while.

Still love you. But starting to curse your name.

[Em]

Two days later.

Thu, Jul 19, 2012, 1:48 AM

[given name],

I still don't like not writing you. It feels like I'm being very selfish. But I literally have nothing beyond speculation at this point, on why you left.

So am I owned at this point? Am I Yours? Does it matter? Do you care at all?

I really hope you do. But I also hope for your return, and that's starting to feel like swallowing glass.

I love you. I have no idea what's going on. Tell me when you can, if you ever can.

[Em]

I'm really, really good at keeping hope alive for lost causes. It's a flaw.

One more to come, on this run, at least.

I wasn't prepared to be read like Tolstoy (part IX)

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts."
~~Winston Churchill

(Continued from part VIII.)

Another one.

Jul 14, 2012, 2:34 AM

[given name],

I can't stand this, you know. The not knowing--the not knowing even months later--whether you've died, or been kidnapped, or fell into a coma, or simply walked away uncaring--honestly, I just want to know that you're okay. At this point, that's really it. My faith has eroded to rust and splinters, my heart has shattered, and still, no word.

No word.

I hate not writing. I hate not communicating. But I am calling into the abyss, and I do not like the silence I'm hearing back.

And I am trying, I am doing my best to keep reminding myself that I love you, that you are still worthy of that love, and that trust, and that faith, and it's getting so difficult to breathe...I am keeping what faith I can, and hoping for the best, and trying to reconstruct a life without you in it.

When I never wanted a life without you in it.

And still, I am~

Yours.

[Em]

Followed by a very short one.

Sat, Jul 14, 2012, 9:59 PM

[given name],

please.

please, [given name], please...if you don't want to own me I will find a way to understand, if you don't want to love me I'll work on accepting that too, I just want to know you're OKAY

please, just that, just tell me that.

And another.

Sun, Jul 15, 2012, 10:48 PM

Why no word? We're back here again. What went wrong? Why are you just GONE?

Gods, I hope you're okay.

And another.

Mon, Jul 16, 2012, 9:00 PM

It's crossed my mind today that maybe you've decided it's too late. That maybe you think too much time has passed, and you'd rather have regrets than come forward and risk the pain of argument, or even just conversation.

There's a couple things wrong with that assumption, if you have it. First: it's not too late if you come back. It's only too late if you don't.

And the second, paired with the first: it's only too late to fix things if I give up on you. And though I am in pain, alternating between rage, fear and worry, I haven't given up on you yet.

Not completely. Hope may be dying on the vine, but it takes a long, long time to expire.

And I still love you.

[Em]

More to come.

oh, feel our bodies grow, and our souls they play, yeah

This was an exciting day.



One day after Gearhaven launched, I dropped by the sim and saw something under the water. I sunk down through the waves and arrived on the little stairs leading up to the sealed door. I spun the wheel to open it, and...walked into memory.



So this goes back a ways, to when I first met Hiro. He'd dropped by work a few times, and we'd talked, and I thought hit it off, but you know how these things are.



Sometimes it's just friendly. Sometimes it's just flirting. Sometimes it goes nowhere, and sometimes...



Well, sometimes, you meet a blue-spotted cat on a steampunk sim who's rezzing out a laser shark for a tank in an underwater dance club.



And the rest is kind of history. Something just--clicked that day, for me. I have always been enthralled by watching what people build here, how they put prims together, what they want to bring onto the grid. I have literally sat and done just that, for hours--watched people build. I'm fascinated. I'm still fascinated.



And therein hangs a much longer tale, but just above the club, there's an open space? Hiro rezzed out the original laser shark. So wonderful.

I'm gonna kill you, I'm gonna lay you in the ground (part XIV)

(Roleplay entry. Trigger warning: violence. Continued from part XIII. I wrote the original, Miss Justine edited and reworked sections.)

Justine and the Duchess were in the castle, on a side lounge. She'd remembered she kept some first aid supplies behind the throne, just...in case...so brought her in. She frowned, dabbing at yet another claw mark--or was it a knife wound?

"Tell me again what happened," she said slowly. Justine sighed. "I didn't kill the clone. STAN sent the security drones to 'subdue' the clone after it tried to space me. They 'subdued' it all right."

She blinked. *Hiro??* she thought. *Hiro tried to space Justine?? She shook her head, mystified.

"Go back. What happened after the clone woke up? I'd left him in the garden..."



"We came back to Tannhäuser. He was confused and disoriented and wanted to find the med lab, I got turned around, and didn't realise where we were going until we ended up in a disused warehousing section of the station. OH! Eggs ... there's a pod full of ... alien egg things. We should really load them into a cryopod and jettison them into the nearest sun before they hatch and, I dunno, eat our spleens or something. After I get one into the fringe lab for study, of course."

"Okay..." She moved from her shoulders down one arm, then the other one.



"We found the clone labs. I thought at first we were good, screen said 100% capacity, but...it changed. So there's a virus apparently?" Emilly's eyebrows shot up. "A--what?"

"I knew we weren't heading for the med lab at that point, and he was acting really erratically, but I followed him anyway, into the next storage pod. There was ... a chair there. And that's when he turned on me."

Emilly nodded. "And then...? Because it sounds like it got..." She'd tugged up the synthtunic Justine was wearing, and hissed softly. "Intense," she finally whispered, seeing the deep bruise coloring under the skin, and the clear stab wound in her side. She placed her hand over it, eyes closing, pouring healing energy down her arm. That one would take more than some antiseptic and tape.

"It was," Justine said grimly. "He wanted to know who "Hiro Prime" was, and who sent me. He ... beat me. He had a knife. Choked me. I grayed out for a minute and when I came to he was..." The Duchess nodded, eyes closed, feeling the edges of the wound close. Shallow, but...deep. Miracle it missed a major organ.



"I thought that was the end." Emilly opened her eyes wide, staring at Justine. "But he was crying. He dragged me to an airlock. Threw me in and told STAN to auto open the doors in one minute."

"I managed to get STAN to voiceprint recognize me and accept my authority as station commander. He closed the airlock door and sent the security drones after the clone while I ran to lock myself in the nearest secure area I could find.

"And that's why the clone had to die."

She looked away from the Duchess. "It was my fault for letting on it was a replicant. I was thrown by that too, and I don't hide my feelings well. I know now. I'll be able to handle it better next time. But still..."

Emilly sighed. "Oh, Justine. You should never have told him. He's already carrying a fair amount of paranoia from day to day existence..."

Justine looked up, frowning. "It wasn't Hiro."

She nodded, handwaving it away, and Justine shook her head. "It was an unstable replicant, and it's dead now."



She nodded. Closed her eyes. Remembering the texture of his hair. "Right," she finally whispered. "So...how do we make the next replicant more stable? I've been gathering axolotls, but...they're all from the fae lands, so I'm not sure how well they'll work?"

"I've been thinking," Justine said. "It may be safer to mount the uploaded instance of his consciousness on a virtual neural net and communicate with it that way. Tell it...there's been an accident, and it's in an isolation tank, and not to worry. Then get any information about what the Duke was doing out there in the first place...Or anything else it might be able to reveal."

She checked the girl over for any other wounds, finding only abrasions, and they'd heal on their own. Bit worried over the head blows, she could freely admit, at least to herself. She might try suggesting she stop by the medbay, when next on Tannhäuser.

"That's a genius idea, though," she said finally. "Let's try that. What do we need to retrieve the personality imprint?"

(Continued in part XV.)