Raise the Voices of Those Lost

 It's Edgar Allan Poe's birthday and the Twilight Zone is celebrating with a séance and party of the deceased author.

Doesn't he look thrilled?

The theme of the night was to arrive in your best black outfit in honor of the man's dark macabre style of writing. Poe is a beloved writer of mine, so I actually spared no expense on the dress I fixed up. Since the attire for women at the time was more formal and such, I came as a woman might have in the later 1800s.

Arwen was there as well, veiled up to cover her injuries from another night. There's been a series of gunfights and bombings lately, namely two. One fight went down at the Bound Rose where Arwen got hurt. The other was at the MPD building. I only saw Dr. Svoboda engaged in a fight outside the building but as I was tending to her, a large explosion went off inside, blowing a huge hole through the wall facing the street. Even after all that, cops were still exchanging fire with terroists trying to exit the scene.

I was just at the wrong place at the worst time.

the absolute worst time...

you could have gotten us killed.

It's not like I planned to be there. I only wished to talk to Dani about Nicole. Anyways back to the party. The overseer for the séance was a strange woman with a snake that only identified herself as the Oracle. Arwen had mentioned someone called the Oracle back when she worked at the black magic store.

 She wore next to nothing and seemed to hiss almost as much as her pet. I do admit I expected a melody of tricks for the séance, but even with cybernetic eyes, I didn't find any rigs or wires about. As the odd Oracle channeled the spirits in hope of contacting Mr. Poe himself, we accidentally called his late wife Virginia Clemm, who had died of tuberculosis. She seemed nice until I mentioned her doing through troubled times. As the story goes, she fell ill but swore one of Poe's alleged lovers had murdered her. The spirit of Virgina was adamant about that fact before she stopped using the Oracle as her microphone.

After the oddities of the ritual, everyone was invited to drinks and having their fortunes read. Some were happy with their fortunes, others left with more questions than answers. Arwen's future predicts the death of her father by her own hands and the potential for children, possibly twins since the Oracle said she'd be eating for three. Maybe it's vanity, but I'm not in a grand mood to be called grandma at 28...

After one drink, I thought to try my luck with the Oracle. She reminded me of my past and the turbulent present I currently try to balance between the pack and Ashagi. It was the future that bothered me most of all. She proclaimed that there was a rat amongst my fellows. Someone who would betray me. Donatien was brought up as well as she warned me to protect him and keep him very close. Why she said this was not clear, but it upset me plenty.

Who wanted my child and who was willing to sell me out?

Quiet Thoughts

I talk to myself when I'm alone.

Not crazy people self discussion. It's more like a self propelled Psychiatric session.

I wonder if I managed to do any better without stepping into Belfry. I've been keeping to me promise of not going near the lab on Wednesdays. I stay home, play with Donatien, help Nicole through her rehab treatment for heroin at the moment, and just reflect.

Donatien's starting to show more signs of his intellect, mostly in the divine skill of dismantling things to see how they work. I often apologize publicly by claiming he's merely hyper and such however he and I both know that he's fully aware of what he does. That doesn't seem to stop him from meddling with my workspace...

Sometimes I wonder what that child does while home alone. Sure Nicole's watching him, but he's got an IQ several light years over her. He isn't allowed near the stove but manages to make some form of dinner or snack. Television ends when his favorite cartoon ends then he's off to bed. I'm mostly worried about how he may be diverting these rules for his own enjoyment...or maybe he's not? Do I just expect him to be mischievous because he's my child?

In 3 weeks we shall see if the apartment's still there.