| Something I overheard a Magus say to her verna.
Interesting. And thank Blood I have a good memory:
"Let me fill you in on something: they know. Like demons, they know what the objective Right is. They do not do as you should do. Their place in the universe is to perpetuate a kind of evil, just as mine is. A vampire and a god have a few things in common. We are old. We are immortal. We are immeasurably wise in the dealings of mortals, as those things which matter to mortals are of little concern to us. And we need you. Without mortal-kind, vampirism would not only be impossible, it would also be irrelevant. All of a god's identity, their purpose, and their goals are all tied up intimately in the purpose of representing certain things to mortal kind. What a vampire represents is perhaps a bit more manifest, and a little less pure. At least, as individuals. As vampires, collectively, however --and I suppose that 'collective' is appropriate for us, as our essence is but a single being-- we represent a number of things, as an archetype. We are death. We are the darkest urge. We are the wisdom of ferocity. We are the valor of extreme severity.
I seem to have gotten derailed.
My point was that a vampire, like a god, is a good source of an objective opinion. I do not like them, either. Gods can be irritating with their, literally, "holier than thou" attitude. But credit where credit is due: they know their trade, and so do I.
Would I worship them? Not on a bet. But what I would do? Ask their opinions. Be respectful. Do not allow yourself to obey what you seek to command. But do forge an alliance with these beings. This can be a very tough line to walk. Lyrael failed with aplomb, certainly, as did Lokiel. But I succeeded. You can too. You just need to be strong enough to know exactly where that line is."
It's possibly the healthiest attitude I've ever seen a Magus express on the subject of religion. No swear words. No grandiose threats. No devotion which somehow strangely becomes a kind of dementia resulting in hallucinations (cognative, visual, auditory and otherwise). No concept that worshipping of something means that you can throw all reason and law out a window.
Apart from that, the insight into the purpose of vampirism. "The valour of extreme severity."
Just, all, interesting.
It reminds me of Lyrael, in a way. No reason to dwell on that. With her went a hell of a lot of noise and distraction. I tried. But you can't reason with moths. | comments: Leave a comment   |
| Well, guess it had to happen eventually. I am getting ready to finish off these Honored Magus grades.
I had put it off, on purpose, because I knew that certain relatives of mine would want me to become a Magister. And frankly, being a Magister would detract from my research projects, and put me under scrutiny that I just don't want to deal with. And it would seperate me from my friends.
But Lokiel has convinced me (in more ways than he knows) that now is the time. I am fulfilling my debts, upholding my oaths, and completing my research. I'm ready to tackle the last.
I'm told that the demon's growth spurt during this phase of the alchemy can be harsh. I'm going to need to suck it up and drink the cold blood provided me by the clan. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Lokiel, Lyrael and I have been working on some strange stuff.
This all started about two months ago, when Lyrael and I had "a great idea," and figured, "what's the worst that could happen?"
As is usually the case when she and I say such things, the worst that could happen, did happen, and we were unconscious for several days, while Lokiel generally freaked out, wondering if she and I would die.
When I came to, I tried to hide what we had been doing from the Magister, but trying to hide anything from Lokiel can be a lot like sweeping the ocean back with a broom, or locking a door to keep Hermes out. He discovered in almost no time flat that we had written a ritual to switch places with our counterparts in the Sitre Acher -- the mirror of this reality, where magick is more restricted, and supernatural creatures don't exist, which of course meant we could spend a feild day just being human, basking in the sun, and eating stuff.
Lokiel was understandably pissed. He was also intruiged, and wanted to help us refine the ritual, which, naturally, took an unreasonably long period of time, and involved a ridiculous number of safeguards.
His idea was to scale back the power of the ritual, and to transfer a lesser part of ourselves to our counterparts, attempting to interact with their forms while still anchored to our bodies, and without making them aware of our presence.
The result was interesting. Lokiel was right in his asessment that it requires far less power to transfer ourselves there. In fact, even with the scaled back ritual, we over shot a little. But, things being more difficult to manifest over there, we weren't really entirely aware of what was going on, either.
When we found ourselves in those boddies, we were nearly completely subsumed by the personalities of our counterparts. Lokiel and I were in the same place at the time, and niether of us had any awareness of anything being different. We simply had an irrational desire to go and seek out Amanda's counterpart.
When we got there, we acted on our base natures, without any of the rules or laws that we normally acted under. Certain aspects and habits translated. Other things, like inhibitions, did not. For example, Lokiel, who does not eat, did not do so in the body he occupied, despite there being a huge ammount of food available. The bodies that he and I transfered into were normally occupied by Jews. Despite being unaware that we were not those people, we broke a fair number of Jewish laws, and were not altogether upset by it. Other things occured which, I think, were out of character both for us, and for our counterparts, and begged the question of what in the name of All was going on in our unconscious minds. I will not detail them here, but Bacchus, you would be proud. I will say that Lokiel, in his counterpart's body, channeled Dionysos, and nearly had sex with Lyrael.
Certain other things simply made no sense at all. For example, why I, an atheist, posessing my counterpart, a Jewess, felt suddenly and inexplicably disturbed and devastated at having done things which displeased a deity which, presumably, neither of us worships.
Much of what happened requires much meditation to decode. The ritual needs to be refined. The power level is right, but the focusing mechanism needs tweaking. Scrying the situation in the Sitre Acher, I have determined that my counterpart was aware of the ongoings. Lokiel was skeptical, but said, "Yes. You always know what's going on, don't you? In every dimension. Always." | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I spoke with Bacchus. And I now understand why he delayed in talking to me.
Apparently Bacchus has been investigating Sabastian's death in light of new evidence, and was debating whether or not to ask me what I remember.
He knows quite well that whatever happened (and no, I do not remember) was so traumatic that when pressed on the subject, I have a nasty tendancy to become pyrokinetic, or catatonic, or to go into a feuge state and start screaming and ripping things apart.
He thinks that Briged's usurpation of the seat of Feth Fiada may not have been her only crime. He believes that she may have murdered Sabastian, and altered my memories.
If that is so, then not only Briged, but all her kinder, and her kinder's kinder for three generations, must die for the crime, executed in the reverse order previously listed. So it is written in the Leges Noctis.
That never seemed fair to me. I feel that Bacchus should just leave well enough alone. I understand that it is his brother, his blood relation from before he was a vampire, but I feel that enough people have died already for this crime. Enough of my Blood relations, to be sure. Both my sire and my sister. But Bacchus warns that those relations might be dangerous to me, as they might fear my possible suspiscion, and try to kill me before I can act on it.
I suppose if Briged was absolved of the crime, then all would be put to rest.
But some part of me fears that she will not be absolved. And then I do not care to contemplate what must be done. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I was becomming concerned that I would have nothing to write about. But I have found it: there are dramas and interesting observations still to be made.
Lokiel, never one to let on what his true motivations are, has begun putting in a good word for me with Aasitperehmhru, suggesting that I would make an excellent Magister.
This would not seem strange to me, but for the fact that I have made two things clear to Lokiel over the years that I worked with him: firstly, that I would find running a chapter to be desperately tedious. It would distract greatly from my research, and take time away from my students. Indeed, I would never again get to work with a student on a thesis prpject! Secondly, if I could be said to have a least favorite Order, it is Serpensis. The only reason I dallied in Oxford so long was because I liked certain individuals there. Liked them in the vein of, "Oh, this one would be so much happier at B'nei Dom or Lunae or Voluptates." Not because I think good people ought not work at Serpensis, but rather, that the people I tend to gravitate toward are those whose dispositions remind me of these Orders. Lokiel would make an excellent Magister at Ordo Ibus, Iuvi would thrive at Lunae, Kalukopis clearly belongs with Feth Fiada, and both Zdohon and Lyrael clearly belonged under the gentle auspices of Arch Magus Bacchus, though I could equally see Zdohon at B'nei Dom, what with his welding of Mikvaot, and his peculiar observations of Shabbos.
Following this out to its most logical conclusion, I am not well suited to Serpensis culture.
Nonetheless, Lokiel seems confused that I am unresponsive to his suggestions that I attend this or that Serpensis Order function. A few, perhaps, as I do wish to speak with the Arch Magus about that peculiar chunneling ability of his, but not a full decade's worth, certainly. And I do have domestic concerns to worry me with.
On another tangent, Bacchus is acting very strangely. Normally a creature with catlike grace and elegance, I watched him, in a very Lokiel-like moment, become so absorbed in chasing a psychic impression that he tripped into the swimming pool. Perhaps he was simply on a hallucinagen. Indeed, I'm fairly certain he was, but he often is, and it has never, in the past, made a fool of him in quite that way.
He seems preocupied more than usual, and seems as though there is something he wants to ask me, but keeps finding an excuse not to.
Arch Magus, I know something is up. Why don't you meet me in my office, and we can talk about, Magus et Magus? | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| So, let me tell you a bit about my students at Voluptates.
They are all Mathetai looking to become Magi, and so they therefore are all looking to me to herd and rally them, that they may finish their thesis work and be acknowledged.
They are, as follows, Zoros, kinder of Bacchus, Andrea, kinder of Ariadne, Speudein, kinder of Zoros (I'll explain in a bit), and lastly Numpha and Kalupsa, both kinder of Erisiel (making them sisters to Lokiel).
Zoros is perhaps the most interesting, because he has been a mathetes for about a century. He bears the nick names, "El Zorro" and "Uncie Al," looks like Uncle Fester from the Adams' Family, has purportedly founded his own religion, and is, according to Bacchus, one of the most creative magicians he has ever met. Zoros has had a plethora of new inventions and new ideas, but remains a mathetes because he has yet to sit down long enough with a single project to actually finnish it, or make it work. There has yet to be discovered a Magus Exemplar who can keep the fellow in line. As you may have gleaned above, he enamoured Speudein. Bacchus isn't the sort to inflict strict rules about enamouring, and considers himself to be the sire of all kinder in the chapter, but from what I understand, any other Magister on the planet would have had them both executed long, long ago. Zoros was supposed to meet with me this evening, but instead, took a lethal amount of peyote this morning and passed out on the roof so that several vernae had to go and bring him in. Fearing he might awake in a dangerous delusion, they locked him into a storage closet (this has happened before, and such is the drill with Zoros), and Zoros therefore missed all of his lectures, rituals, and his meeting with his adviser (me).
Speudein is perhaps the most ironically named kinder I've ever met. He does just about everything slowly. He's only been a mathetes for half a century, which is a long time, but not unheard of, especially when one has a particularly irresponsible Sire, or one with many, many kinder. The boy has a melancholy temperament, poetic sensibilities, and his physical composition is reminiscent of Bacchus, save that Speudein is more British looking, with blander features, rounder eyes, and blond hair. Bright, indeed, and capable, but with a dreamy disposition that causes him to do everything slowly and meditatively. He showed up to speak with me this evening around when Zoros came in to give me his litany of excuses. I'm fairly sure, from their interaction, that they are routinely buggering eachother. But enough on that rather horrid topic...
Andrea, Kalupsa and Numpha are more standard mathetai, having been studying for only a decade, and all being studious, and rewarding to work with.
Andrea actually reminds me a bit of Kalukopis (Sandra), in that "behold, I am a cherubic looking youth with an overbearing Sire possessing only half of my wit and intellect" kind of way. She was evidently enamoured young, primarily because of her overwhelming attractiveness to the kind of vampire who is long overdue to enamour and is suffering from frustrated maternal instincts. Both are on the meek side. Andrea, of course, has long dark hair, whereas Sandra is blond.
Numpha and Kalupsa may as well be described together. In life, much like Sabastian and Bacchus, they were identical twins. They were enamoured a year apart, Numpha first, suggesting that she would find her unlife more bearable if she could share it with her sister. The two, both nymph-looking redheads with blue eyes, are audacious and lascivious, and while both are enthusiastic about their Sire, share her with a sensuous playfulness. Kalupsa, I find, has a mischievous streak. It is so profound that this is how I tell the two apart: Kalupsa wears a near perpetual smirk which bestows an impish light over her countenance, and indeed, illumines her entire appearance. Not just once, but many times, I have had to pull her out of the practice room by the ear to prevent her from casting some dangerous ritual or other. While Erisiel finds this to be a great area of concern, I do not. I was much the same as a mathetes, and I expect that, like me, Kalupsa will be around many hundreds of years from now, with enough experience to tell future mathetai not only what not to do, but what happens when one does it anyway. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| So, I've been at the Madrid Chapter for some indistinct and hazy period of time which I suppose must be around one month. A lot of things have changed.
I have less to post about these days, to be sure. Politics are kept to a minimum here, and likewise, there is very little drama. Rules are lax (save for the golden rule: Get your work in on time!) and this contributes to a very relaxed atmosphere, conducive to open and creative discussions about research projects, studies, and thesis work.
Back at Serpensis, in Oxford, I hear, it is business as usual. I found no less than fourty emails from Lokiel in my inbox, mostly to the effect of, "Are you dead? Why haven't you been answering my emails?"
Apparently Sandra, under Magus Iuvi's watch, finished her Magus thesis in a month. Everyone was impressed. Sandra is now Magus Kalukopis. Her Sire, Angelibus, as Angelibus is wont to do, tried to use the event as an opportunity to shmooze and suck up to Lokiel.
Why anyone would feel the need to suck up to Lokiel, unless it be to make amends for previously having grievously botched one's works or workings, I do not know.
Then, at the bottom of my inbox, I have an email from Angelibus, asking me detailed questions about my relationship with Lokiel, and my assessment of the Magister's character.
Obviously, I deleted that email.
But, to make a long story short, I do not miss the intigue. I look foward to many years of scholarly productivity, free of inane drama. | | comments: 8 comments or Leave a comment |
| I'm in Madrid.
I somehow thought that Fate would prevent it, but I did transfer to Voluptates.
As you might have guessed, It's 1:34, I've been up for five and a half hours, I'm already drunk, and I'm sitting here writing some extremely experimental stuff. Bacchus is sitting at the table behind me with about four Magi working with us, and thirteen Mathetai watching, as we discuss what will and will not get us completely blown up.
I love it here, but I wish I could get drunk less. It's hard. Drinking wine and spiked blood is such a social thing. You're in the middle of reading a book, and some verna brings you a glass of red stuff which you thoughtlessly gulp down while absorbed in some point the author is making, and then, suddenly, you are drunk. Or worse.
Bacchus apparantly has a good tolerance for sunlight, and there is a swimming pool as well as a hot tub here. At sun up, we'll probably put on bathing suits (or less) and take a break by doing some laps and then discussing our research in the hot tub.
Not sure how long I've been here. Time just flows, one day or night into the next, heedless of time, politics, or anything but sex, drugs, wine, blood and magic.
At any rate, I should get back to work. I should get back to work and NOT have a glass of that red stuff they're handing out.
Lyrael, call me. :-D | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| Bacchus has asked that I transfer to a chapter of Voluptates. It is a request, of course, and not an order, and he has sworn not to raise an issue should I decline. And Bacchus, of course, is a creature of his word, as are all Romans, despite what I might say of "Latinists."
But it is the second or maybe the third time that he has asked, and it is for a project that I find particularly compelling. And furthermore, the library in Madrid is enough to make most mortal Mages cream their pants, and enough to give even me multiple orgasms. Oh, gods, books and books and books ranging from an experimental treatises on every supernatural creature under the sun (and/or moon), to the original rites performed by Hebrew Cohanim Gadolim circa... oh... first temple? Creative works written by Hypolita, Diana and even Casus. And a book about what exists behind the veneer of reality by Aasitperehmhru, which I still have yet to read.
So, the question remains... why am I still in Oxford? I mean, I like my students and all, but you can find students anywhere. I tell myself that I'm simply over-committed, and that as soon as I finish with this student --- but then, as you read in my most recent post, I find myself looking over applications and forgetting all else.
I have to figure that there is something unconscious at work. Perhaps I am attached to these kinder because I secretly want my own. Perhaps I would miss Iuvi, and even Lokiel. I would. Hell, I think I'd even miss Green Argurion, for all I complain about him.
Perhaps something more insideous, too. Perhaps I get around too much. Perhaps too many people know who I am and what I look like, and whose kinder I am. Perhaps I've published one too many papers. Perhaps Briged is starting to feel threatened, and perhaps I fear her. And perhaps that is why Bacchus is trying to get me off of the Isles.
At any rate, the suggestion would not have been repeated simply for my expertise in languages. There are plenty of other Magi who can at least decode the languages that need to be decoded. Something is up.
Bacchus, respond? | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| Xaris is near to completing his thesis. Now, I know I have been saying that for nigh 13 months, but truly, all he needs to do is type up his notes, and run a spell check. All in all, he has done a very good job, but he really does need to run a spell check. Sadly, no one has developed one for Latin as of yet, so I suggested that he might want to translate it into Greek, seeing that modern and ancients spellings are very similar. When I suggested it, I thought I heard the faint sound of his spirit about to snap. I therefore withdrew the sugestion, and Iuvi is now helping him with his little cylexids problem.
This akso means that I need to think about whom I will be choosing as my next protege. Both Sandra (Ameilichos) and Green Agurion have sent applications to my desk.
Naturally, I want Sandra, because I like her. That's not a good reason to choose a student, and I may very well not like her so much after I've been riding her ass for two years trying to get her to chase down every primary source in Hypolita's bibliography for her treatise on prehistoric laser gynocology. On the other hand, I have had both kinder in my classes, and I know Argurion to be an arrogant sort who might inspire me to personally murder him in his sleep before the next equinox. And then again, Sandra's sire is Angelibus. And I know Angelibus would be continually breathing down my neck until Sandra had the title Magus affixed to her clan name. And murdering Angelibus would be more problematic for me than murdering Argurion.
Both are very motivated students, and very bright. Based on their applications, either would very likely do me proud, in the end. Sandrea tends to be more obedient, and Argurion more independent. And in my experience, the later is harder to work with than the former. Self motivated types tend to slack off a great deal more when the work gets rough. And since they are not used to taking orders, there is almost nothing you can do to compell them to get working again. Then again, they need less babysitting, generally.
I guess I'll just read over the applications, and if I decide to take Green Argurion, make certain that Sandra has someone fiesty enough to deal with her sire. The eternally calm, polite, unflappable (and oblivious to poltical nonsense) Iuvi springs to mind. The more I stay here in Oxford, the more I generally appreciate having her for a collegue. She's appreciate the referal, I know. Her propensity to stay in the library all the time tends to get her overlooked too often. Blood only know how old she is, and she's only been an HM for ten years. I think she ought to teach clases personally, and the more students she gets, the more likely that will become. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Evening briefings by the Magister for HMEs.
Did I ever mention how I'm not really an evening person? Sure. Fine. Once I'm up and about, taking a walk outside and drinking coffee, I'm fine.
But I'm sorry, I just can't roll out of bed and be instantly productive, no matter the hour. Further, I object to the implication that I need Lokiel's help, figuring out how to teach my bloody students.
I don't know what is happening to him. All of a sudden, he's Sargeant Lokiel, of the Serpensis Oxford squadron. Strange, but I don't remember signing up for the royal army. Perhaps the problem is that he is bored. I should simultaneously file to enamour a kinder, and request a transfer. Let him figure out *that* beurocratic nightmare.
Alright, you might not be aware of why that is funny. According to Clan law, the Magister who presides over you is responsible for both aproving and naming the kinder. Also, according to Clan law, the Magister to whom the request is put is responsible for the decision. Thirdly, when one requests a transfer, the transfer technically takes effect as soon as it is approved. But enamouring takes many many months, so if he transfered me, the kinder would be his responsibility, and I would be someone else's. It is further illegal to separate a kinder from their Sire within the first weeks of enamouring-- they are one legal entity in numerous respects, even an execution involves both-- and further still unlwaful to deny a transfer on the grounds of an enamouring request or an enamouring request on the grounds of a pending transfer, as it interferes with a vampire's "right of propogation" according to the Leges. (Oh yes, believe it or not, the Leges garantees that we shall not be denied the right to propogate, once we are of lawful age and station, and once the kinder has been evaluated. We further cannot be penelized legally for a lawful enamouring.)
A simple thing, but requiring much complicated paperwork, and mailing of things.
Or mayhap what he need is a new research project.
Well, time that I should be finding a way to scry through all of Lokiel's wards. Talk to you all soon. | | comments: 6 comments or Leave a comment |
| I'm not going to be on aim for the foreseeable future. Those of you who are accustomed to getting hold of me on aim, please email me.
Lyrael, be notified that I will more frequently be checking my other email address. You know which one I'm talking about. | | comments: 4 comments or Leave a comment |
| Alright, I'll preface this by saying that I know you Arch Magi don't believe that Briged is trying to kill me, and that she has been for a hundred years or more. In fact, if I didn't see the evidence of it, I wouldn't believe it either, because she has been failing for that long, to the point where her gross inefficiency in the pursuit of killing me is near comical, nay, scratch the "near."
I just felt that this recent incident needed to be related.
Today, I was out hunting in London, and a verna --so identified by the Blood-- jumps out of the shadows, dressed all in black like a bloody ninja, and slashes at me with a katana, temporarily cleaving my mid-section from my hips. After discovering that --when you try to carve a reasonably old vampire like a turkey with a stainless steel blade not unlike the kind a ginsu knife is made of-- the blood that is spilt knits the flesh almost immediately, not even leaving a scar, he screamed, jumped up in the air like a cricket, and ran.
Later that evening, the same verna sprang out of the shadows again, and tried to light me on fire with a blow torch. After discovering that pyrokinesis allows one to not only produce fire, but direct fire in whatever direction one wishes, he ran away again. Ran away, that is, after extinguishing the blaze in the trashcan, and on his boots.
The same verna, apparently not realizing that I might be a bit wary for the rest of the evening, came at me with a gun, only to discover that pulling the trigger on a gun requires having free will, and being able to operate your own fingers.
Needless to say, after his third attempt, I ate him. I think the Leges will show that after the third assault, the verna may be destroyed without the need to be concerned with property laws.
Keep a better eye on your chattel, big sister. | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| Lokiel once summed up every book Hemmingway ever wrote with the following words: "to die... in the rain."
Add a cracked up trolley and bits of personal technology that just won't work right, and you have my day.
It started at arounf 5:30pm this evening. I got up and did the usual thing a person trying to get out for the night might do, taking along my handy-dandy HME Standard issue cellphone. I think Satan himself must have invented the gadgets. Insideous. Now, no matter where I am, no matter what is going on, I can be found by anyone who wants to find me. Aasitperehmhru wants me to pick him up a new verna? Bacchus wants a report of that kinder he sent over to our chapter last week? Lokiel wants me to be privy to his latest hallucination? They just dial 011.44.1865.414.1212 from anywhere in the world, and viola, instant HME Inannael.
I'd throw the thing off a bridge, but the lingering fear in the back of my head that I might need it someday seems to glue it into my purse more surely than five thousand wads of chewing gum. That, and Lokiel's insistance that I must be on call at all times.
So, I leave the Chapter, planning to hop on the trolley down the street. It's raining, but it's England. Rain is nothing unusual. It would have been more remarkable had it not been raining. So I take an umbrella -- not my umbrella, you understand. Just one that someone left by the door. Because I am in a hurry to get to the Oxford Campus. There was a talk at 6pm about recent findings in Akkad, and Magus Naki over from B'nei Dom was going to go, and thanks to my blasted cellphone, I knew in advance, and had planned to meet her there, even though she lives in bloody Tel Aviv.
I'm waiting at the stop, and the trolley, right in front of my face, crashes into a telephone booth. I try to call Naki, to let her know that I will be late, but the system is down. So, I sit down on a bench, and wait. The wind now blows a gust so hard that it turns the umbrella inside out and breaks it.
So, I'm soaking wet, and late. I open my phone, and start playing a video game. Water gets inside the phone, and it stops working altogether. Finally, another trolley comes, but by now, I'm a half hour late. I stop in the hall, and do not see Naki, so I go across the street to a coffee house, and have myself a pot of tea and some crumpets.
Naturally, the bill is eleven quid, and I only have ten. Embarrassed, I engage in a loud, mind-enriched argument with the fellow behind the counter, telling him that his exorbiant prices are criminal, and that babies cried when they saw him, because his commercial sin had stained his immortal soul. After three minutes of yapping, I'd already broken his spirit, and so he took the ten quid and let me go, just to return order to the kiosk. I then promptly made everyone in the place forget what I looked like. No chance of having then forget me entirely after that scene.
Now I have a new problem. I spent my last coin on tea and crumpets, and have no fare to take the trolley.
By the time I make it back to the chapter at damn near ten o'clock, I was drenched to the bone. Lokiel is waiting in the doorway, and asks where I've been.
"I went to the campus to meet up with Honored Magus Naki, Magister."
"I tried calling you ten times. Didn't you hear the phone ring?"
"It was off the network."
"For four hours?"
"I don't know."
"How's that, Honored Magus?"
"Water got in my phone and it shorted."
"Did you at least meet up with Naki?"
"No."
"And why not?"
"Trolley crashed into a telephone booth. And I couldn't call her because my phone wasn't working."
"And when was that talk over?"
"Eight, Magister."
"And do you know what time it is, Honored Magus?"
"Ten, Magister."
"And what did you do in the intervening hours?"
"Walked in the rain."
"Why did you not take the trolley back, Honored Magus?"
"Because I ran up short on money."
"You left without enough money to get home, Honored Magus?"
"No, Magister. I spent my last ten quid on a bloody pot of tea."
Lokiel was dumbfounded. "Tea!"
"Yes. Tea. Brown stuff. Good with cream and sugar."
"I know what it bloody well IS, Honored Magus. You spent ten quid on tea?"
"Well, no. I spent six quid on tea, and five on crumpets."
"That's eleven, Honored Magus."
"Yes. I ran up short."
"So, allow me to get this straight. You took twelve quid from the till, and treated yourself to tea, and then walked home in the rain."
"No. I spent my own money. And yes. I had tea, and then walked home in the rain."
"No umbrella even. My umbrella was by the door. Had you asked, you could have taken--" Lokiel, at that juncture, looked over to the coat rack, to discover that his umbrella was gone. "...where is my umbrella? Nevermind. Goodness, but you are full of excuses this evening. Such irresponsibility. I expect better from you."
"Yes, Magister."
"Don't 'yes Magister' me. Who do you think you are, Torel? A few more incidents like this, and it will be your skull on my desk, Honored Magus."
With that, he left. No, I did not, mind you, remind him that I had no classes to teach that evening, nor did I remind him that soending my own money on a pot of tea wasn't any crime, according to Clan edicts.
I think he just gets off on reminding himself that he can still reprimand me, even if I AM Ishtar. Made me feel like a Mathetes. I don't like that. Not one bit. Bad enough to have a night full of stupid mishaps without being scolded for the stupidity of it on top of it all. Even Honored Magi have a bad night every now and again. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I just deleted a bunch of people from my friends list. Everyone not in the Clan, actually.
This isn't because I hate anyone, nor am I asking to be unfriended. I am just findinf myself looking on my friends list, trying to determine what happened to the kith in my life, and -- Goddamnit, you mortals post too much. I can't keep up. I have to scroll back eight pages just to see what Bacchus said a few days ago. A few days is not that long for me. For you, three days can mean the difference between life and death. For me, three days is how long I spend my waking hours reading a book before I need to eat.
We have drama too, and it interests us greatly -- but it seems to happen at no where near the rate that it happens to you. We get overloaded by television. Well, I do. All of these loud people living week inside twenty minutes. Egad.
Also, mortals say things. Lots of things. Things that are supposed to be important somehow, but fall on my ears like the pointless mewling of cats. Imagine having a friends list where all the posts said, "Mew! Miiiooowwwww?"
Not even as satisfying as an in-person cat, because you can't pet it, or feed it things, and it wont curl up in your lap. It just makes desperate bids for attention in text format. Don't get me wrong, you are all very cute, as mortals go. But people like Lyrael have not posted in months, and I'd like to be able to *find* those posts.
Of course, I'll still have to scroll back a few pages, because Bacchus posts with an alarming frequency for a vampire who has been around nearly as long as El Diablo. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Xaris.
I could punch him.
"Waaah my name is snot-face-kinder and my infernal alchemy is hurting me, so you should go easy on me, and not make me meet my grade requirements."
I have half a mind to tell him that if he doesn't meet his grade requirements, I could care less whether he lives or dies. But I suspect that it would be in poor form.
Whiney kinder. Thank Blood I don't have any of my own. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| No, seriously, I didn't.
Lokiel just called me into his office. Angelibus is being transfered to Ibus. | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| Lokiel and I are having some basic dissagreements about how the chapter should be run. His rank prevents me from knowing what alchemical changes he is going through, but I can only assume that it must be lunar, or perhaps carnal related. Whatever the basis of the mater, the net result is a tremendous difficulty in communicating with one another.
Or perhaps there is something else going on that I am not entirely aware of.
Looking for patterns, I have noticed that he seems to have more of these... problems... when I spend more time talking to Magus Bacchus. I don't rule out the possibility that Lokiel knows about this, given his tremendous powers of Sight. I am left only to conclude that for some reason, my relationship with Bacchus bothers him, eother because he is jealous that I directly have the ear of an Arch Magus (not my fault considering that he was my Sire's brother, and that he knew me from the time I was a Mathetaes), or that Lokiel perhaps suspects that Bacchus and I have a certain emotional bond through the shared loss of Sabastian that Lokiel and I lack. Bacchus reminds me of my sire because in their mortal life, they were identical twins, and thus Bacchus looks identical to my Sire. I remind Bacchus of Sabastian because I bear what is left of of my Sire's blood.
And Perhaps, too, Lokiel knows that I will eventually surpass him. In truth, I will probably succeed Bridged as Arch Magus of Feth Fiada, not through any special occult merrit, but because of who I am, who I know, and whose Blood courses through my veins.
One would think that Lokiel would be thankfull that I have tarried as long as I have in the Ordo Serpensis, considering that I generally request a transfer every six months (part of the reason that I am so slow to advance through the HM grades). Instead, he seems perpetually upset or jealous.
I do not understand.
At any rate, Bacchus and I are nearly done with the initiatory rites I somehow supposedly tricked him into doing. Looks like we'll be initiating Magi within the next year. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| |
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
inannael's journal![[mood icon]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/ankhappyb.gif){kind=small}
amused![[mood icon]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/ankangryb.gif){kind=small}
aggravated![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/ankawakeb.gif){kind=small}
amazed