Every choice you make has an end result.

[wealth-n-taste.livejournal.com]

[Wednesday, December 16th (Day 199)]
[Miskatonic Cafe - Early evening]


Trapped. 

I'm trapped in this godforsaken little hellhole of a town and if I didn't know better, I'd say someone was attempting to keep me here.  Between the repeated packing and unpacking to find lost items, my son's insistent need to wander and now this damned weather, who could fault me?

Frustrated with the near-constant delays, I set out earlier to gather a few last-minute personal items for my impending journey home.  Unfortunately, I didn't take into account how fierce the weather might become and after taking shelter in the cafe, I decided to make the best of my time.

From my seat by the window, I have a clear view of the street outside and I'm uneasy for a moment as my eyes settle upon the clothing shop.  The whore lives there, along with her murdering lover and I'm thankful my wayward son is home, under the watchful gaze of my mother.  The murderer escaped my ambush and I'm presuming, killed the men I'd hired as well.  I've not gone back to survey the scene though, refusing to acknowledge my part in what might be a disastrous setback.

No matter. My son is, as yet, unaware for the most part, and I intend to keep it that for as long as possible,  Truthfully, he need never know my hand in this and if necessary, I will continue to throw lightskirts in his path long after we return to Ipswich.  That should keep him occupied enough to forget any nagging questions he may have regarding his time in Excolo.

Sipping my soup, I glance again at the clothing store, scheming as I consider what last volley I could manage before leaving town.


[Open to Dorian and Glass]
[Closed]

Every choice you make has an end result.

[wealth-n-taste.livejournal.com]

[Wednesday, December 16th (Day 199)]
[Miskatonic Cafe - Early evening]


Trapped. 

I'm trapped in this godforsaken little hellhole of a town and if I didn't know better, I'd say someone was attempting to keep me here.  Between the repeated packing and unpacking to find lost items, my son's insistent need to wander and now this damned weather, who could fault me?

Frustrated with the near-constant delays, I set out earlier to gather a few last-minute personal items for my impending journey home.  Unfortunately, I didn't take into account how fierce the weather might become and after taking shelter in the cafe, I decided to make the best of my time.

From my seat by the window, I have a clear view of the street outside and I'm uneasy for a moment as my eyes settle upon the clothing shop.  The whore lives there, along with her murdering lover and I'm thankful my wayward son is home, under the watchful gaze of my mother.  The murderer escaped my ambush and I'm presuming, killed the men I'd hired as well.  I've not gone back to survey the scene though, refusing to acknowledge my part in what might be a disastrous setback.

No matter. My son is, as yet, unaware for the most part, and I intend to keep it that for as long as possible,  Truthfully, he need never know my hand in this and if necessary, I will continue to throw lightskirts in his path long after we return to Ipswich.  That should keep him occupied enough to forget any nagging questions he may have regarding his time in Excolo.

Sipping my soup, I glance again at the clothing store, scheming as I consider what last volley I could manage before leaving town.


[Open to Dorian and Glass]
[Closed]