There are lots of mice around here. I really don't know why. I'd be scared if I wasn't numb from the alcohol.

I do have a craving for peanuts, though. Maybe I should lay off a bit. Sober up. Deal with the hangover, let it come, and let myself be more clear-headed for the coming trials.

Nice picture.

Damn mice.

drunk on wiskey

so this guy, we'l call him Bob, goes over to Monctezuma after finishing this big project hes been working on and he says 'Hey, i finishe the calendar, but it only went to 2012." and monctezuma says "that's okay im sure it won't cause mass hysterira or anything"

You know I don't think monctezuma was king of the mayans

hehe

hapy new yeear

O'er the ramparts

Christmas trees, strung-up lights, mechanical reindeer. The streets of the nation's capital glitter with the bitter light of consumerism.

A bitter glitter. Ha! Oh, dear, I need to lay off the alcohol.

I've arrived safely. I'll update again soon.

...There are those mice again. Rats, mice - does anyone have any cheese?

Walking in a winter wonderland

Kentucky is not the best of places for a snowball fight.

I do apologize not for posting the past month. I didn't want to jinx my good fortune. But I had intruded on the Valentines' hospitality for far too long, and about a week ago I packed up what little I still had, graciously accepted (I like to think) the gold watch gifted to me by Teppy as an early holiday present, and headed east. Back to where it all began.

Right now I'm on the very eastern edge of the Bluegrass State. Literally. If I scooted my tent ten feet, I'd be in West Virginia. But yesterday, I had an enlightening conversation with stardust. I have to say, talking to stardust is very interesting. I would look forward to more of them in the future if I thought our paths might cross again.

I apologize for my mixed metaphors. I am still a little hungover. And a little drunk. I haven't finished all my whiskey, you see, and I'm trying to ration it out until I reach the coast, where I plan to retrace my steps. As far as is feasible, anyway.

Ah...tonight is the fourth night of Hanukkah, yes? I might still remember the prayer...not that I could manage to put it here without the assistance of the Internet, of course.

ברוך אתה ה' א‑לוהינו מלך העולם, אשר קדשנו במצותיו וצונו להדליק נר של שבת.‏

Blessed are you, Lord, our God, sovereign of the universe...

I haven't seen the dog since I arrived at Rose and Teppy's store, nor any trace of La Dame du Lac. Nor any trace, for that matter, of anyone at all, besides those on the blogs. Maybe the universe and its sovereign have finally decided to leave me alone.

Interesting. Even without the assistance of Anansi, I can hear rats, or perhaps just mice. They're not as quiet as you'd think.

Blessed are those who mourn

The Library was my last hope. The Library was the last possible place for my last possible lead on Infinity, on Isabella, on my friend. The Library was the last.

After I made my way out, I sat down and pulled my knees up to my chest. Anansi skittered over to me, but I wasn't ready to talk yet. I tugged my coat closer around me, drooped my head in my arms, and wept. Or tried to weep: no tears came. Sweat ran down my face instead, and I realized that if I stayed in the hot sun any longer I'd be burned. I trudged towards the gas station some mile and a half away. Once there I purchased a gallon of water and a pack of granola bars.

It is my personal belief that in any extreme situation, a man can survive on nothing but water and granola.

I started dialing on the pay phone before realizing I didn't know who to call. My father is long gone, and I would like to keep my mother out of the way of danger as long as I can. I can't face the Compass, even over the phone. Atlas is dead. And I have few other friends...

In the end I decided on calling Emilia's phone. She didn't want to have a cell phone ("Those horrible little devices! Take up all your time and leave you with huge bills.") but we went out and bought one for her after a week's worth of convincing on my part. She used to keep it off at all times except when she was using it, and even then she only took it out in times of great emergency.

I took the phone off the hook. The buzzing noise took over my thoughts.

Please deposit ninety cents, or press one to make a collect call.

Click, clack. Two quarters, three dimes, one nickel and five pennies. Nearly all the loose change I had on me after making my two earlier purchases. I was left with three cents.

Instead of telling me to dial, the phone line connected me to an operator. Her voice was dull and monotone, asking Hello, sir or madam, operator here. How can I help you?

How could she help me? I didn't know. The way she said it, it sounded more like a recital than a question - which I suppose it was. How could this drawling lady help me?  Well, maybe I could help her.

"Hi. I'm Erick. What's your name?"

There was silence for a moment. Then, Sir? Operator. How can I help?

"What's your name?"

Nothing.

"Don't make me guess." I stifled a crazed giggle.

"Terri? Samantha? Belle? Lisa?"

"Lisa," said the woman. I nodded, satisfied.

"Connect me to Emilia LeFay, please," I said.

"I'm going to need a phone number, sir." Her voice was suddenly much warmer and happier. I said nothing. Finally, Lisa said, "One moment."

Click.

Buzz.

"Hello?"

My heart stopped for a moment, then resumed its casual thudding. A casual thudding that quickly became exactly the opposite of casual.

"Emilia?"

"Erick? Is that you?"

"Emilia, oh, God, you're alive."

"Erick, I don't know where I am..."

"Just stay calm. I am coming to rescue you, I am."

"I believe you."

"I love you."

Nothing. I started again.

"Emilia, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"For -"

I bit my tongue. It was hard to remember. I had put myself under a mental haze long ago, trying to block it out.

"There's something I have to tell you." We said it at the same time. I laughed. "You, first," I said.

"Okay," said my wife. I imagined her biting her lip in the way she has.

"It's a boy," she whispered. "His name is Seamus."

I didn't even get to say "Emilia?" before the line went dead.

The clerk had to call his manager, but they gave me a cot and allowed me to stay in the gas station for as long as I needed to, which has included all my time since I escaped from the burning Library to now. There is an ATM which I can get money from using my Institute-supplied credit card, and all the water and granola a man could eat. The clerk's name is Teppy. The manager's, Rose. They're nice people, a married couple. They make me smile with their morning greetings and evening goodbyes. There's not much business here, but that's okay. I like the quiet.

In another life, I'd have liked to work at a place like this. Just settle down with a store, my wife, and my son.

Seamus LeFay. Has a nice ring to it, eh?

As for inquiries, don't expect any for a while.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I promise a better explanation soon.

Inquiry something or other

This one, for fulfillment: Like wine I am, with no alcohol; like a priest I am, with no faith or soul. Like the sun I am, with no light and no time; like a poet I am, with no reason or rhyme.

Potion One and potion Three hath poison none, as ye shall see

But drunk together, you will find, they'll quickly kill the human mind

Within this baker's dozen bottle-line, four have trace of vintage wine

Of which two are with poison, two without, and Two tastes quite like sauerkraut

Gorgon's blood fills bottle Eight - but right or left? You'll have to wait

And Six and Ten hold potent cures, but for what ailment no one's sure

One of the odds holds deadly venom, distilled only by juice of lemon

Which resides inside the neighbor of the drink that makes ye braver

Potion Seven's from the sink, mixed with arsenic, I should think

And potion Four can get you drunk, or sunk, or locked in a trunk

Eleven and Twelve are harmless, and tasty, like a pastry

Unless that was Thirteen, in which case, don't be hasty

Now look upon your thirteen choices,

Tell me with your eager voices

Choose three, leave ten, and split them up

One for your glass, one for mine, and one for the witchchilde's cup.

The smell of smoke in the morning

It would seem that even the Mulla and his Library do not contain any knowledge of use to me.

No; that's not true. There's so much in that library that I could use, but I don't have time for it all now.

It took me a while to get in. Anansi couldn't even slip in through the windows. It didn't, obviously, occur to me to knock. I stood just outside those huge doors for what felt like a year but probably lasted about an hour, pondering every possible route of entrance. I imagined how the Compass might get in, or how Atlas would do it, or Infinity - I didn't even think to look for news of her inside. And I call myself a researcher.

After such time had passed that I thought my feet would fall apart just from standing, a slightly hoarse and deep voice called out from inside the Library: "Do you need something?"

I was taken aback, and for a moment I was afraid it was the Businessman come to collect his ill-gotten claim upon my life. But I recovered and replied, "May I come in?"

There was no reply, and I was worried that I had said something wrong and now I was never going to be allowed inside. Then, with a great screeching and rumbling, the doors swung open as slowly as doors of that size can swing, and I rushed inside, leaving my children to wait for me. In retrospect, not the most thoughtful of decisions, though all worked out fairly well in the end.

Once inside the Mulla spoke again, asking what sort of information I was looking for. I told him I needed to find something out about La Dame du Lac, and a great sigh came from nowhere. "I've heard that one before," he said.

"Does that mean you've got nothing?" I asked. The Mulla sighed again and said, "Yes."

"But you've got to have something - you have something on everything!" I protested. The Mulla sighed for a third time and said, "No. Now, unless there's anything else, you'll have to get going." I frowned and shook my head in disbelief, and that's when the fire started. It was quiet at first, a flickering heat that began just beneath my boots and spread out slowly until it reached the endless bookshelves, where the flames erupted into reality. It was pure luck that I hadn't gone far enough into the Library to get lost, and I was able to turn tail and get out before any damage was done to my person.

When I looked back the Library had completely disappeared, as it does.

The previous inquiry still stands. There are two chances left.

Doing what I love

The Canyon Library is a great big affair; until you go inside it looks like a cathedral or mosque or some fancy government building in northeastern Europe. It never stays the same for long, but I rather think it or its keeper likes the minarets the most.

I've only stopped to say I've arrived; hopefully I'll be in and out by Tuesday evening at the latest, but you can never know with these things.

9/11. I have a story or two for that day, if I can remember them.

I have a story, for every occasion.

The previous inquiry no longer stands; instead:

This one, for power: Black roses, Black Pearls, a little kitty-cat smiling, sailing away; Black thunder, black worlds, a mother of sorts avenges her child today.

You get three chances.

There and back again

I'm off again. The Compass can take care of the others well enough, and anyway I'm no use to them, not like this, not...not like this.

I'm headed for a library. There's no better place to learn about something than a collection of books, and if anywhere has information on La Dame du Lac and her dog - more than standard information, at any rate - it's the Canyon Library. The place is about a week's journey by car from here.

I've never been so scared in my life. I can't trust anyone, and especially not myself.

It's not saying "What could go wrong?" that jinxes the proverbial it. It's saying, "I bet I just jinxed it," that jinxes it.
I bet I just jinxed it.
This one, for strength: He who leaps and bounds around may seldom if ever touch the ground; he who sweeps the deepest floors, or sleeps behind closed doors, may never know no more.

You get three chances.

In the town
Where I was born
Lived a man
Who sailed to sea
And he told us of his life
In the land of false regimes
So we sailed unto the sun
'Til we found the sea of green
And we lived beneath the waves
Waiting for the one true king

Capabilities

We were researching the missing link.

That was what the Institute of Unity was for. We did drug testing, archaeology, brain scans, sub-dermal implants, animal testing - nothing inhumane, of course. We tried everything we could think of. We seemed to be drawn to our subjects, each of us attached to a particular species. For me, it was the spiders. They were intricate, delicate; they drew me into the web that was...that was them. They spoke to me as if they could speak, and I understood them, or thought I did. They were as the dolphins; the warning of the apocalypse, misconstrued as an attempt to leap through a hoop.

But it was us doing the leaping.

I've said the Businessman first came to us a year ago. Isabella knew the Businessman long before she knew us...and if my suspicions are correct we first encountered him or his influence at least two years ago.

It was, in all seriousness, a dark and stormy night. The Professor and I were both packing up to go home when our generator got hit by lightning. The backup was waiting for repair, and didn't kick in. Our first thought was to get to the animals and make sure they were okay. Their cages were hooked up to electronic life support management systems that would automatically feed, water and clean them and their cages. Atlas ran back and forth among the rows of baying creatures, while I slammed away at the management terminal. When the lightning struck us a second time, we weren't ready. I hadn't even logged in to the system yet.

You'd think that being underground as we were would protect us from what happened next, but that wasn't our biggest concern. The electricity shorted out everything we had, and the gates on the cages slid themselves open. I blacked out, and it's my understanding that everyone else did, too. I was shaken awake by Squirm; he, Atlas, and Majesty had all woken up before me. The others were still unconscious. For a time we had seemed to completely have lost our memories; we each went to our homes, not a small number of which were within the Institute itself, and went about our everyday business. I regained an old passion for video games.

Then the animals came. Spiders were in my house, everywhere, and for some reason I didn't want to kill them or at least get them out. Atlas found a goat chewing on his carpet. The Compass' attic was plagued by bats. It went on, and then we realized that they weren't simple beastly invaders. They were there because of us.

Our companions helped us with our work for the next year or so. Then Isabella disappeared, and it all went downhill from there. They granted us an awareness far beyond that of our own - that which I discussed, many moons ago, as "loose perception." No doubt more benefits will come of these alliances.

We've named the connection the Spark; other than this...that's all I know. That's all any of us know. It has links to our research on the missing link, and there may be...portions of the psyche that we have yet to unlock.

There's your answer. I hope it pleases you.

I have an inquiry for today.

This one, for care: Rejoice! Through faith, your afflictions are banished. Rejoice! Through faith, your doubts and fears are vanished.

You get three chances.

If I regret anything about my time with Atlas, it's that we couldn't give him a proper funeral. A proper burial, yes, but we can't manage the respect he truly deserves. We couldn't even get a real headstone. We engraved a simple inscription on a damn plank.

R.I.P.

Harrison Peabody

The man who held the sky

He didn't suffer when he went out. He cracked jokes the whole time, until his coughing stopped him from talking at all. With his death, Billy - his only companion besides us worthless humans - lost that...Spark. We left him in the field with Atlas' grave, where he could graze near his beloved. You could tell when the Spark had left him. Billy's coat faded to a dirty grey, and his horns seemed to shrink. His hoofprints are now deeper than they had been when he had the Spark. He no longer walks as if on air.

Anansi tells me the dog's mind is impenetrable. I suppose we will have to work things out the old-fashioned way.

And now...back to business.

The answer to the previous inquiry was K.K. Collins. You still have a question to ask of me, and...today's inquiry.

No. No inquiry today. I'm sorry, Emilia.

Up north

Is where we're heading. Both Atlas and Majesty have family in Canada, and we may be able to set up a safehouse where we can take care of our more pressing issues - such as Atlas' condition. I will update more thoroughly when we've settled down.

The previous inquiry still stands. There are two chances left.

Lies

It wasn't her. It wasn't anyone. We were told to come to the man's apartment after around nine in the evening and he told us we should be thankful that he found our dog. I can't tell if this was a fault on our part or on his, but either way we didn't get our money back. So I'm having a fun week.

This one, for thought: Zap, pow, take that! I'll beat you! I'm an unstoppable force of chaos - soon, if I have anything to say about it, your maker will meet you.

You get three chances.

Awake this time

But something stopped me from answering her questions. Not anything technical, not that I was locked out of my account, but that I literally, physically was not able to click the "Post Comment" button.

The Compass and I have been doing our best to find any lead on Infinity. She's our first priority right now. Then the dog, then La Dame du Lac, and finally - our own duties.

We aren't even concerned about the Businessman, anymore. Not as much as we are with our other objectives.


The Compass, however, has been told that for a substantial sum we could not only be led to Infinity but she could be brought to us. With various funding originally intended for the Institute and our own wallets we've scraped enough together to both pay for this...service and still have enough to survive. This time, we'll keep her under lock and key until we've got either the time to jab her with a needle or the courage to


Well. I don't want to think about it.


I still owe you an answer to a question that hasn't been asked; take your time.


This one, for force: With a puff and a cough and a vroom, vroom, vroom, this one very special man could, very quickly, make your head go boom boom boom.


You get three chances.

The witchchilde angers me.

His ability to win over allies ande his insistence on persevering is troublesome.

I wouldst suggeste discouraging him from this pathe.

Aiden Clarke: 27
Kay: 22
Omega: 21
Justice: 20
Nolan Zuckerman: 17
Hakurei Ryuu: 16
Jean: 14
bravethestorm: 13
The Messenger: 10
AmalgamationSage: 8
Fawkes: 8
TheShadyLady: 8
Maduin the Jester: 6

Life or Undeath?