The Professeur's Journal - Lucille de Larose

[Paragonville]

[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=88Y7in-04Ng[/youtube]

Rebellion, uprising, revolution.  These are entering interesting times.  The commonfolk begin to speak amongst each other in hushed tones.  Arms being collected, food stored. 

Lies spread.

One can only wonder what shall become of me and my house.  Should they win, will our titles be seized?  Likely.  Will we be executed simply for being nobility?  Maybe. 
We're playing a game, now, that revolves around life and death.  I do all I can to help the commonfolk, but should I lean too far, I gain the ire of the government.  If I do nothing, I gain the ire of the people.

What a balancing act.

[Paragonville]

Marius de Verderen.

Who are you?  And how do you know?

He is either an ally, or something else entirely.

[Paragonville]

[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DG5OhYcEadU[/youtube]

As the days pass, I realize we're but dancers on a string.  Bounce and twirling to the beat of greater beings' drums.  We were born here, in the end we will likely die here.  When I am warned of the dangers of angering these silent masters, I can only shake my head.

We're born here, and we will die here.

But perhaps we can rise above them.  Time will tell.  A black sun rises.

[Paragonville]

Locked in her room of the Lady's Rest inn, the Dementlieuse professeur sat alone.  Pale faced, tired.  How long had she been sitting there?  Thinking, thinking.  Thinking of anything and everything.  Of how she was different, of how in some cases she wished that the truth was never exposed to her.   It was both her most foolish, and most brilliant moment.  Betraying Jacques for knowledge.  Had she truly survived the exposure like she'd said?  No.  Was she just like Jacques?   Mad from these visions?  No.

She rocked in place, the sensation of a hundred nailed fingers dancing across the back of her brain driving her to the brink.  It was coming again.  Thin fingered hands gripped her staff, that impossible staff of angles and geometric shapes that never followed the laws of nature.  Human minds find it hard to comprehend.  She'd seen the expression upon that Halfling girl's face as she looked upon it.  She grew sick within moments.  Yet, here she was, holding onto it like her lifeline.  Her doorway to the truth of everything.  Her looking glass.

She felt weightless, yet heavy all the same as the floor, board by board, began to fall away.  The walls, the ceiling, the furniture all slowly drifting away.  The void stretched beneath her, around her.  She felt like she was falling, but there was no wind.   No heat, no cold.  Yet, there was.  All at once.  The laws meant nothing.  Past the fragments of her inn room, she saw worlds.  Both living, dead.  Hollow, broken.

Creatures beyond description writhed in this place.  Tentacles as large as mountains, as large as planets, as small as blades of grass, all swayed in the void.  Grasping, touching.  Curling around worlds, breaking them.  Great maws of beings so great that only their teeth could be seen.  Chaos reigned.  It was then, that a billion, billion eyes all focused upon her at once.  A stygian horror came roaring from the depths, formless, as its vile appendages took her, pulling her forward towards its hungry gut.

Then, she was back.  Sitting in her room.  Nothing had changed.  When would she stop carrying this staff?  Why did she allow herself to be subjected to this insanity?

Perhaps because the truth was more important to her, than her own well being.

[Paragonville]

She lied back on the bed, eyes closed.  The staff nearby, wrapped in leather.  She wore her nightgown, a blue, wool robe.  She found herself unable to sleep, eyes staring up at the ceiling above.  She'd been lying there for a long time, or what felt like a long time.  She had to take breaks from the staff.  She knew that in the wrong hands, the artifact would drive a less willful person absolutely insane.  That, she could not morally let happen.

"But it would be funny, wouldn't it?"

A small voice drawled from her left, near the wall.  She felt the brush of silken hair, followed by a growling purr.  Her eyes wandered to the voice, only to see the void of pupilless eyes staring right back at her.  Thick, black hair which seemed  to cling to the shadows of the room.  A midnight cat.  This dark feline, bound to her soul like some sinister anchor.  This tie she had with him.  Was it because she loved him, or was it the soulbind of familiars?  She didn't know.

The cat stared at her for some time, fog billowing from his nostrils on occasion.  Searchingly.  He seemed to smile, then, flashing sharpened teeth.  The cat rolled over against her, letting his soft fur brush her arm.  He knew how to manipulate a human well enough.

"Come.  It would be funny.  Human, drooling on the floor, yes.  Beating face on wall."

She wished he had a better grasp of common, despite his intelligence.  The cat gave what appeared to be a sigh, following by a grunt.  He rolled over again, half-lid eyes locking on hers now.

"The Mistress is changing, I can tell."

[Olywynn]

---

[Paragonville]

[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q8epri4C_YI[/youtube]

She stepped from the rickety Vistani vardo, one foot after the other touching Dementlieuse soil.  The gulls' caw heard all around her as the smell of ocean salt swept through her nostrils, followed close behind by the stench of the fishing wharfs of dear Port-au-Lucine.  There, it stood.  High walls, lined with bright banners.  A symbol of bygone ages.  At the gates, armed musketmen, at ease.  Always at ease, knowing that with the setting of the sun they would abandon the streets to the criminals.  The bright points of her homeland seemed all the duller, now, with the passage of time.  But now, she could swear she could see glimpses of shapeless horrors.  Tendrils of darkness and unfeeling, unreadable eyes.  This soft barrier between worlds she now walked, her eyes on occasion peering behind the façade of order. 

With time, it would be her every intent to make sense of the senseless.

[Paragonville]

It is time to start the gathering of allies.  Even in this lull in peasant sentiments, we can not risk falling out of touch.  There are cards to play, and I intend on falling on the right side.  First, allies.

A second order of business is a meeting with my colleagues.  They recovered that item of interest, and have expressed their desire in my assistance in extracting its secrets.  I look forward to it with baited breath, for the knowledge we might be bestowed.

Thirdly, the journal.  My associate procured it for me, and I believe it may hold a strong lead for my colleagues and I.

Closing my eyes does not make Them disappear anymore.  They're always there.

[Paragonville]

Closer

[Paragonville]

The rattle of the teacup filled the room.  Sat at the foot of her bed, red hair hanging unbraided and feathered haphazardly in her line of sight.  The dark rings around her eyes only seemed all the darker.  She felt sick to her stomach.  Sneaking a meal from the Broken Spire in to the Governor's Hotel was an easy feat, at least, and it seemed to ease her guts.  At least, barely. 

The rattling only grew louder.  It had been sitting on the dresser, having long gone cold.  She wanted a drink.  But, she couldn't bring herself to stand.  Thoughts raged. 

It went so wrong.  Was it for nothing?  They were no closer to understanding, and now the child was out of reach.  The child.

Did she regret at all?  When she looked at the red headed Falkovnian child, she only saw herself.  Is that why she went through with it?  Because she would?  Experimenting on a child, for what?  For nothing?  Maybe not.  There is always a silver lining.

The teacup flung across the room from its resting place, shattering into a hundred little pieces.

She smiled, and the rest of the chinaware began to rattle wildly.

Always a silver lining.