Oops.

It has been a very trying day. Bellamy and I are both ill, and the results have been . . . catastrophic.

Bellamy, you may recall, is my pet dragon. He's a full-grown pygmy, twelve years old, and one of the most lovable, endearing creatures you could ever hope to meet. Unfortunately, he has always had a bit of trouble controlling his ability to breathe fire. He really does try hard, but every now and then, accidents happen. And when Bellamy has a cold, there's really no way for him to control his abilities.

Today, Bellamy has a very bad cold. A very, very bad cold. He was wheezing quite a bit this morning and obviously had terrible sinus pains, as he kept beating his head against the rather uncomfortable tree that Edric and I spent the night in. I'm not sure why he thought beating his head would make it feel better -- dragons are not always logical. As a result of Bellamy taking out his suffering on the tree, Edric was awakening by being knocked out of the tree. Don't worry, he's fine. He landed in some conveniently placed bramble bushes. I tried to heal his many cuts by crying on them (I have healing powers in my tears), but sadly, my powers only work on people I care deeply about. Edric was quite rude to both Bellamy and me after that.

Well, Bellamy just got worse as the day progressed. Around noon, he went into a massive sneezing fit, sending flames all over the place. Glemaria is now missing one of its forests. You should have seen how quickly those trees alighted; it was only moments before we were surrounded by a most impressive inferno. Edric's horse was smart enough to run out of there at the sight of the first spark, so she was unhurt by the fire. Bellamy, despite his misery, still had the presence of mind to grab Edric and I in his claws and fly us out of there -- just in time, too. Edric's boots got a bit singed, but other than that, we were unscathed. Unfortunately, the flight was rather bumpy, owing to Bellamy's continued sneezes (which helped to spread the massive forest fire even more), and I got quite sick to my stomach. When Bellamy finally deposited us safely on the ground, I was sick all over Edric's chest. That made him even grumpier than he had already been, although he did later concede that it was not deliberate.

To prevent any further fire calamities, Edric found a rocky area with no brush for Bellamy to rest in. I tried to brew a potion to make Bellamy's cold get better, but I am even worse at potion-making than I am at incantations, and Bellamy refused to drink the gurgling concoction that I created. I suppose I can't blame him. When Edric dumped it out on a nearby bramble bush (revenge against nature for this morning?), the bush shriveled into a vile-looking green thing and then suddenly exploded. Edric got quite a bit of nasty-smelling vile-green-thing juice all over him from that, at which point he hopped on his horse and rode off at a very fast gallop, calling out an impressive stream of highly undignified words as he went. He still hasn't returned.

Well, after the potion-making fiasco, I felt very faint, so I took a nap for a while in yet another uncomfortable tree. I tried to eat some berries after I awoke, but couldn't keep them down. I've no idea what I'm ill with, but after the way Edric has abandoned me to suffer alone, I hope that I'm highly contagious.

Oh dear, I think I'm going to be sick again. Please excuse me.

Oh no. Not the “constitutional”!

Sorry everyone, but I don’t have much time. I was just about to sit down and blog when Mrs. Davidson stuck her head in and told me that my Uncle Warner has decided that its time for another of his “evening constitutionals.” I’m supposed to go, as usual.

I have no idea where he gets these ideas. You would think that a “constitutional” was a walk or something, but noooooo. Its this once a month meal where he orders the table set for about fifteen and then eats all by himself or with me. It’s not as weird now as it once was, now that I know about the portals in the Tower of Worlds. I think he’s waiting for someone, but I don’t know who or why.

The food is still just as weird as was the first time, though. I think my favorite is the “sugar beats.” He insists that they aren’t spelled “beets” because we’re supposed whack them three or four times with a tuning fork before we eat them. He says it brings out the flavor.

One good thing is that he tells the most wonderful stories. I might try to tell some of them here. Well, I have my own stories to tell now, about Relois, about, well…. I probably shouldn’t say more right now. I don’t tell Uncle Warner either. There are times I’d like to, but something stops me. I’m not sure why.

Well, I hear Mrs. Davidson coming. Gotta go.

TTYL,

Meg

An Introduction to the Science of The Elements

Hello once again, esteemed world-travelers! It is I, your fellow sojourner, Igmar.

Please excuse me for my extended absence, as I had much work to do to ensure the continued operation of this device, and many other experiments that have taken up my time.

Considering the vast array of worlds from which our group are derived, and the apparently vast difference in the laws of science in each, I thought it prudent to offer a concise explanation of my own. The realm of Midgard is ruled by what my colleagues in the school of Elemental Science illustrate in a diagram called "The Contrivance of Forces" (So called in observance of our comparatively limited knowledge of their interaction). These forces are powers or energies which correspond to those found in our environment and biology, which in turn affect and transform flora and fauna which live in environments of concentrated elements. Vera, similar to the image seen above, is an example of that- she and her kind owe their blue coloration to the high concentration of the elements of Darkness and Life, which pool in the dark glades to the south of our village. The shadows in moonlight collect these energies, and the plant-life upon which these blue rabbits graze contain traces of Darkness, which changes the hue of their fur, lending its blue coloration. As a general rule, if there is a significant level of any natural force (Fire, Water, Wind, Death, etc.) in one area, living things in that area will adapt to and emulate that force. It is not known exactly how many of these elements there are, and they range from physical to mental to spiritual forces,

We in the community of scientists and spellcrafters inscribe these forces into carefully designed Runes which contain and focus their energies, enabling us to bend them to specific purposes. There are other known methods for controlling the elements, and even methods for emulating their effects without the use of runes, but these forces are basic to the development of new technologies and the progress of our culture.

Well, I do hope you have enjoyed this brief introduction, and I would be delighted to hear about the forms of magic in your own worlds!

Transworld Politics And Other Faerie Stories

So, apparently, my sister and brother-in-law are going to go off to find some faerie miscreant and they need me to watch their precious, little daughter whilst they are away. Funny, since their daughter is a sixteen year old girl who is highly trained in hand to hand combat and weapons skills from two different dimensions and has, as far as I am aware, been a miniature grown-up since she was five. Nevertheless, I, being a wonderful sort of uncle, am going to move from London to the States and be with dear, little Danni until her parents return.

I suppose, in the interest of general understanding, I should give some account of the history of faeries in this world and the formation of the Transworld Congress, at least in a little more detail. It will help you understand why I, as a half-blood, am still allowed to live in this world whilst others are imprisoned and sent back to the Otherworld without so much as a souvenir photo of La Tour Eiffel.

No one knows when the first channels opened up between our worlds, but my guess is that it was more than a few millennia ago. Back in yonder years, quaint little heathens worshipped magic users as gods. You know, Prometheus the Fire Bringer and Lugh the All Around Amazing Chap. You had supernatural disasters and curses and all sorts of wonderful events taking place that no one today believes actually happened. That was back when magic users walked through the channels without so much as a stamped visa.

As time went on, more channels began to open up, probably due to faeries figuring out how to do it themselves. Some people began to notice that humans were vanishing, never to be seen again, and magical events were taking place that were causing an unseemly amount of damage. I’m talking people killed, towns destroyed, the whole lot. I’m not sure if it was a human or a faerie who first suggested that we were destroying each other’s worlds and that something needed to be done.

In 1818, a congress assembled unofficially in some neutral location between-worlds. They created a document called the Transworld Peace that has been enacted every since. Basically, the faeries will watch their ends of the channels and we’ll watch ours. Any trespassers will be immediately sent back to be disciplined. It’s worked out fabulously.

Well, most of the time. Every now and then, things get messy. And people like me end up being born. Luckily for me, I didn’t get enough magic in my system to hurt the human world’s magickless atmosphere. I do have enough so that if I ever did want to foray into Faerie, I could. But I don’t want to. I am rich, happy, comfortable, and entirely not interested in meddling with Transworld affairs. Leave that to Amanda and Geoff.

Where did I put the...grrrrrrrr....

I said I was going to talk some more about Waverly Hall. There’s so much I could mention—funny, scary, and just downright annoying. I think I’ll just do an annoying thing right now, since it already brought itself up in one of my comments the other day.

This place eats things. I suppose that’s what it does, because you can set something down, turn around, and then when you reach for it a second later, whatever it was is gone. Some things never show back up, but most of them do, and always in the weirdest places. Once a week Mr. Davidson goes all over the house looking for things that don’t belong and he brings them back and dumps them in a box in the front hall. He told me he found my hairbrush in one of the gutters on the roof. One day I was reading a book, set it down to take a drink and when I looked back, it wasn’t there. Five minutes later, Mrs. Davidson came in and handed it back to me; it was warm and a bit singed. She found it in the oven, next to some rolls she was baking for dinner.

As far as disappearing things go, the chair the other day was pretty bad. I was typing along and had to push back to grab a tissue and boom! I was on the floor. The chair was gone, right out from under my freaking bum! I said then that I thought the chair would be on the lawn. It wasn’t. I found it in the big fireplace downstairs. Good thing it wasn’t winter.

The scary part of this is that the house also seems to manage to misplace people. I’ve only been misplaced a few times. If you’re not careful, you’ll just be walking along and suddenly you look around and you’re nowhere you should be. Sometimes it’s harmless. Mrs. Davidson said that one day her mother was visiting and she fell asleep on a chair in the main hall. Before anyone knew what had happened, she was gone, and an hour later they found her sitting, fully clothed, in an upstairs bathtub, still asleep. If you end up in the wrong place, though, it can be dangerous. That’s how I found the Tower of Worlds the first time.

Around here, when you go from place to place, you lock your eyes on your destination and take the shortest route. Things only seem to happen when you’re not looking…. Keeps you on your toes, I guess.

TTYL,

Meg

Just Another Day on the Run

You know that sinking feeling you get when you try to use an incantation to cause warts to spring up all over your husband's face and it backfires and instead produces a large, living wart that runs fast and spits in people's eyes while shrieking in a horrifically high squeal? No? Well, neither did I, until this morning.

Edric and I have really been doing quite well lately. We were almost caught by King Haden's men shortly after I wrote last time, which is why we haven't been writing much lately. We've been in a panicked, frenzied state, trying desperately to find a place to hide, where no one will even think to look. You know, there really aren't as many places like that as one might think. We've finally settled on a place that may do for a time, but of course I cannot take the risk of describing it here.

Well anyway, with all that running about and fearing for our lives, Edric and I were actually quite civil to one another. He was far too frightened for his usual snide remarks, and I was too tired to abuse him with magic. He risked his neck to capture a chicken one night, after I had remarked earlier in the day about longing for something other than plants to eat at night, and I was so grateful to him that I gave him the antidote for the chivalry potion that I had snuck into his breakfast (both potions were a gift from one of the Glean-Side; believe me, I could never hope to create any potion that powerful). Yes, I admit that it was the chivalry potion that made Edric go after the chicken in the first place, but . . . oh what does it matter; you're probably more curious about the wart anyhow.

Good things usually come to an end, and in like manner, Edric's and my time of pleasantry ended on Tuesday. He was a tad bitter over the chivalry potion, I suppose, and he decided to retaliate by washing my undergarments in stinging nettle juice again AND by hiding my clothes when I bathed later to get the stinging nettle juice off my skin. I had to walk for over a mile, clad only in some leaves that I was using every ounce of my powers to keep positioned over essential areas. After that, all truces were off. Edric and I had a dreadful argument that lasted most of the night, and then this morning, I was reading through my book of forgotten magic and happened to stumble on the wart-causing incantation. It seemed a fitting retaliation.

Unfortunately, as is usually the case with me, the incantation went nothing like it ought to, and Edric and I then spent most of today alternating between running away from the wart and trying to catch it. It was a miserable creature, quite as horrid as Edric. Well, there is a kinship between the two, after all. It was my dragon, Bellamy, who finally rectified the situation. As the wart was passing him, Bellamy let out a very potent burst of flame, and the hideous creature (the wart, not Edric) was nothing more than a little pile of ash. We buried it, just to be safe.

Oh dear, here comes Edric again. He's smiling, which means he's either done something dreadful that is going to make me very cross, or he's come up with a "clever" start to another argument. Looks to be the latter, most likely.

Farewell for the time being, dear friends.

This Woman Is INSANE!!!

You all haven't met her yet, but she's nuts, seriously and completely nuts. I am of course speaking of my erstwhile comrade in arms, and quite often lover, Hisoka..-..//-__/-_...__---\\/\/\...\,\\/\\\---__--_--_-_-\\/\/.\\-\./...she just tried to brain me with a bokken for writing that and I don't have another scroll to write on for this journal thing so, it's going to have to stay that way.

Anyway, back to the thesis of this entry, Hisoka is insane. We finally got a half-way decent mercenary group put together, we have a warrior of the Okami, a Toshi mercenary-

You all probably have no idea what these are so let me explain, simply and effectively...as long as Hisoka doesn't try to brain me again. Let's see, for the Okami warrior, his name is Keno, think naked super-warrior with magical weapons and tattoos that work like armor, maybe better. His wolf, oh...right, every Okami warrior bonds with a giant demon wolf, these wolves are the size of horses, anyway, his wolf died a few months ago and he's trying to get over it. I think he's suicidal right now, which is going to make life interesting until I can talk him out of that.

The Toshi, Genburu, think like monkey people except not monkey's. They live in the Oniyama and can fight better than most anyone who's not from the Kari clan. They're mercenaries by trade, and some people say they're spies too, I suppose I'll find out about that. This kid is pretty much looking for adventure I think, not entirely sure. He says he's the son of a bigwig in the Toshi clan but he ran away because he wants to be a mercenary. I'm not sure if he's lying or not.

Then there's Sanchiro, he's the prince of the Anteisei. Don't look at me like that, he is, not the first son, the third I think. Anyway, he's running away from some vision his wife had that he's going to kill her someday. Apparently he's taking it seriously, she is supposed to be a pretty good fortune teller, and so he's joined us so that he will never ever see his beloved wife again. I suppose he's figuring that if he never see's her he can't kill her. At least that's the story Tanaka got out of him when they were drinking last night. I don't figure that's likely to work, not that I have much experience with running away from prophecies of doom, but I figure it takes more than joining a mercenary company to get away. Maybe I'm wrong.

Let's see then, there's also Sanshi and Jushi, brother and sister, twins from the Saiban clan. Twin's are really bad mojo for the Saiban, they're all about middle ground and twins represent good and evil in their set forms. The Saiban think the twins are cursed from birth by the spirits and cast them out. I haven't managed to get a story out of these two yet but somehow they stayed together, and apparently they don't drink. Which makes it harder to ply them for information.

Then I guess the last one is Meiyo Kumiko, she's a thief. Not like a spy or an assassin or anything, just a thief. I wasn't sure about her at first but she and Hisoka were best friends from the moment they met...which probably means that Kumiko is stark raving mad as well. Anyway, she got caught, well almost caught, by someone important in Meiyo, the city, and now she's on the run. Hisoka probably knows more than that but I haven't had much time to talk to her. Anyway Kumiko should be good at getting us into places, and hopefully out of places as well.

So, like I said we finally get a halfway decent group together and the first job Hisoka picks up for us, which is MY job by the way, is sneaking into the castle at Tsuyosa and finding out how many troops are there. Its in the middle of the city, our first job as a team. We're going to die, there's nothing else to say, we're dead. I'm going to go prepare myself to meet Zainu face to face, hopefully Mizukaze will still be by my side and can get me a good ranking in my next life.

Musing about life

I am not in the habit of writing. I was never one of those girls who kept journals or diaries about my lame life. But since my life is now a rather dead life, I am seeing things slightly differently. Life is only as lame as you make it. Mine was pretty lame. The only pleasures were tormenting Mrs. K and seeing how long it took to blow Mabel's very short fuse--well there was also the tree house we built and swing over the river. But overall I did not enjoy life. I did not take the time to actually smell the roses (I wish I know where that phrase come from). But really don't ask me to tell what roses actually smell like because I don't know and the House of the Dead doesn't have roses. They would all die if it did. I don't know why that is either. Trees grow alright and so do must shrubs but most of flowers grow crooked or not at all and roses well they don't grow at all.

Anyway, now on this side of the life cycle, I have decided that my life will not be lame or boring, not that living with dead could ever get boring. They have all sorts of stories and since they are dead they have no qualm about talking. They seemed to have finally figured out what life meant. I guess I am still trying to figure it out.

Hello, My Name Is Nathaniel... Again

Ever since Isaac dragged me onto this site, I’ve been trying to figure it out. This is certainly a very interesting collection of beings. It figures that Isaac would find the oddest blog on the internet.

So, hello. I’m Nat. I won’t bother introducing myself again, since Isaac has already done such a …stellar… job. Right now, I’m trying to clean my Glock, while my little sister is drawing on my feet. I tell myself, it could be worse. She could be drawing on the wall. Or the table. Or my face. Sometimes you have to pick your battles. She really is a good kid, just hyper. And with an overactive imagination. So now, I have the honor of walking around on feet decorated with cows. At least I think they’re cows…. Oh, whoops. She says they’re horses. My bad.

My job is similar to yours, Andreas- I specialize in security. Although, it’s mostly against normal human criminals, not otherworld beasts. That seems to be changing recently, though. After I started taking jobs from the Fae.

Liam- I can’t imagine a world in which the Fae are restricted to the otherworld. I suppose it’s good for me that they aren't in mine. The Courts pay well, and I certainly need the money.

“Bugs” Bunny?

I had the rare privilege of watching some of what I believe your kind calls “Youtube” today over Meg’s shoulder, and when she left to go help the Davidsons with some task, I decided that I might avail myself of the opportunity to do a little research on your world. I wanted to try and understand what Meg meant when she called me a “squabbit.” I now almost prefer that I had not.

Evidently, to her eyes I resemble a mix of two kinds of earth creatures: a “rabbit” and a “squirrel”. Personally, I do not see the connection at all. My kind is something else entirely. Beyond and above. That sort of thing.

According to my research, the best known of these “rabbit” things is something called “Bugs Bunny.” Having observed several of documented sightings of this creature, I suppose that its unique physiology makes it somehow superior to other “rabbits”—it can walk upright, speak the common language, and I have to admit that I am a bit jealous of those thumbs. Beyond that, it makes no sense! Its voice is annoying and it cannot decide whether it is male or female. It lives in a hole in the ground that should flood with every rain, and collapse if anything of sizable weight passed over. How does it fit all of that furniture into that tiny little hole? Perhaps I’m underestimating it, but I doubt it’s clever enough to know how to tesser space. Even I’m not very good at that. And why “Bugs”? I fail to see what insects have to do with any of this nonsense…unless perhaps he’s really part of an insectoid species infiltrating your society in disguise. I don’t suppose that’s impossible.

Bah! My ears are MUCH more impressive.

Carry on!
Reep

Please, Leave This to the Experts- Me.

Hello everyone- I finally gave in to Uncle and decided to participate in this... thing. Extraordinarily haphazard jury-rigging aside, Igmar didn't to a bad job getting this contraption to work- I still can't find the elusive "backspace" key I keep hearing about, but I'm sure we'll work out the kinks now that I'm involved.

I wouldn't, as Uncle described, call myself a 'woodsman'- mostly because I get the mental picture of a lot of the other hunters around Ost- huge, barrel-chested, stinking like the animals they're after, and above all other charming features, stupid. I know that sounds harsh, but I'm sure you know the type- they rely on their muscle so much their brains have started to deflate.

Anyway, how I would describe what I do- I am a "Containment and Elimination Specialist", or to use a more common phrase, "bounty hunter". When things go bump in the night and the peasants flee in terror from something apparently all of them assume can breath fire (nearly always not the case, but try explaining that to a blithering gourd-farmer), they post a bounty on the nearest service board, and I pick it up. I then go to work applying my numerous, specialized skills (both of the practical outdoorsy type and the runecraft and elemental science I've developed thanks to Uncle) and bag the monster before it carries off any more sheep. I sell my services to whomever can pay and several who can barter and make a pretty good living for myself.

Other than that, I mostly help Uncle- he doesn't get out much, so he sends me off to get this or that for experiments. He's raised me like a son after my mother died when I was born. In case you're wondering, my father, whoever he is (and I don't particularly care) popped off and left me to starve alone in this drafty old lodge. I also practice falconry with my golden eagle, Liv- but more about her later.

Well I think that's enough for now- Uncle Igmar is bugging me to use the "Paradox-Space Script Viewer". I think he means this thing.

Rich, Handsome, Charming... Half-Faerie...

So if the choice before me is whether to finish signing a veritable mountain of paperwork that has something or other to do with a million or so dollars that my business wants to invest in an upstart software company or write a ridiculous little biography about myself, I suppose I may as well take a break. It is lunchtime, at any rate, and I have a peanut butter and cucumber sandwich waiting for me. I think I’ll add mustard.

My name is Liam Caslow and I am the unfortunate offspring of Romeo and Juliet. Oh yes, they were star crossed and dramatic and died in each other’s arms and everything. They did manage to survive for twelve years after having me, which I guess puts them ahead of Shakespeare’s originals. My father, I’m told, was a hunter, stationed in the minute hamlet of Coverdale in Yorkshire, England. Good spot to catch faeries, you know. Lots of channels between our world and the Otherworld in Coverdale for who knows what reason. My mum, who was Fae, apparently sneaked through one of those channels for a bit of sight seeing in the mundane world. She and my father fell madly in love. Of course, that’s forbidden, and not just because it’s a disgustingly romantic cliché. They went underground for years. When I was born, I was immediately packed off to live with my great aunt (on my father’s side) and I only saw them every few months – or years, depending on how things were going. They started some sort of revolution, but it ended badly. They both died, as did poor Great Aunt Mary Ellen of a stroke that same month.

If it hadn’t been for Oliver and Hannah Caslow, I would probably have been shipped off to one of those special facilities for mistakes like me. The Caslows were hunters, but they realized that I didn’t have enough magic in me to damage the mundane world and convinced the Transworld Congress to let me stay on this side of the channels. The Caslows adopted me. I thought myself pretty lucky.

At least until I met my new sister Amanda. She is… well, let’s just say that my life has been much easier since she crossed the pond with her new American husband Geoff Gallagher. They stayed in the family business, hunting illegal crossers from the Otherworld. Seem to do pretty well for themselves. I’ve heard that they’re two of the best in the business—

But, then, I’ve made it very clear to my parents, my sister and brother-in-law, my niece, and anyone else who’s interested, that I don’t want to know what’s going on in the transworld. I don’t want a job as a courier. Really, I don’t want to be involved.

So why is Amanda leaving me messages? Again?

My Favoritest Blog

Hello. My name is Digger. I am a brave and good dog. Do not ask me how I can post. It just happens. It is neat to see word-es. They are my fav-o-rite thing. I wish I could use them with my person. He would like it. He loves me and feeds me and I would tell him thank you for taking me to chase the stupid-id duckses at the pond. My Sher-i-dan-person is the bestest person in the whole world and he would be a good dog because he is strong and brave and loyal. Sheridan did not used to be strong, but he is now. He can be brave if he has to help or save someone from the Bad Ones. But I think he would not like to fight the Bad Ones. Fighting is not his fav-o-rite thing. He likes to read book-es and not fight. I like to pretend to fight with old socks that my person ties together-er. It is my favorite thing. I like to bite the Bad Ones when they try to hurt my person too. They do not taste good, but it is funny to make them run because then I can chase them and it is my fav-o-rite thing to run and chase things. My person does not like to run. He only walks unless some-body is chasing him. Then it is fun because I can chase whatever is chasing my Sher-i-dan-person and we can all run and it is fun. May-be one day I can chase those Bad Ones all the way away and they will not come to bother us anymore. Then I could stay with my person forever and he would not have to leave to fight the Bad Ones so much. That would be nice. I hope you like my firstest post, and that you will be my friends because I love to make friends. This blog is my fav-o-rit-est thing.
Love,
Digger

Thoughts of Home

I realized this morning that I have been away from home for over two months now. It shouldn't be so hard; after all, I did attend a boarding school for the last six years of my education. I rarely went home then, other than on holidays, the occasional weekends, and during the summer. Still, I suppose the knowledge that I still had a place to go home to made me feel connected in a way that I no longer am.

Laurelwyck Manor, the ancestral home of the Shanahans (my father's side) was a lovely place to grow up. The house was enormous, with over eighty rooms. My favorite room was the morning room, where Mum used to read us faerie stories when my siblings and I were little. Father had a special stable built in the back for Bellamy, my pygmy dragon, and there were Mum's overgrown gardens, the pond, the woods . . . I'm making myself tear up remembering everything that I've lost. I always knew that when I grew up, I would leave for another home, but I always expected that I would be able to visit whenever I wished to. I was wrong.

Edric and I had only just returned from our so-called honeymoon (I think it would be more accurate to call it a traveling civil war, actually) when things got truly bad —er, worse, for us. King Haden ordered my entire family executed. The Royal Guard captured Mum, but Father, Georgiana, and Carwyn (my sister and brother) were able to escape. When Edric confronted his father about it and tried to convince him to spare at least my sister and brother, his father became even more infuriated. The next thing we knew, Edric's head was being demanded. Removed, that is. So, we had no choice to flee.

Now we're constantly on the move, traveling from one forest to another, hiding out in trees, in caves, occasionally in barns, when we're lucky — last night we slept inside an old tomb. I don't recommend tombs to weary travelers — they're hard, cold, and rather frightening. It was empty, but it was still by far the creepiest night I've ever spent. And that's counting the first night after I was married!

At the moment, Edric and I are waiting out a rainstorm, still stuck inside this tomb. No, I haven't changed him into anything unnatural. We've called a truce for the moment (and besides, I don't know how to change him into anything — deliberately, I mean). The bleak day is making me melancholy, and, in turn, making me even more homesick than I have previously been. I don't know if I'll ever again see Laurelwyck Manor or my family, aside from in my memories and my happiest dreams.

On a day like today, I even almost miss Georgiana (my sister).

Demons In The Tea-Pot

Well, I was sitting here trying to figure out what to post today and talking with No-One-In-Particular, he's a not...uh...he doesn't exist. Yeah...it's a thing. Anyway we were just sitting chatting about what I should post today because nothing has really been happening lately, I mean, there was the village...I think I posted something about that already...and then there was a skirmish between the Civilized Orc Nation of Breezy Pants, they get a little testy if you shorten the name, and the Ogres of Thompson's Gulch...I know, weird name but it was named after this really clumsy girl who tripped over a blade of grass and fell all the way down the mountain...she didn't look right when she got to the bottom...and she wasn't moving. But there were only like...2000 people involved in that so, no biggy.
So, having nothing to type about I summoned up Gilly...uh...that's Gilderoy Amphersand Palonius Asterick Kevlar Mastectomy...he named himself...I think he just kind of picked words that he thought sounded cool...and then put them together. Anyway, he's a demon poodle who likes to pretend he's important. I brought him up to see what was going on in the six hundred thousand hells, you know, to see if anything interesting was going on, No-One-In-Particular's idea. He was...mad about that...mostly 'cause I pulled him out of a poker game he was winning with a few other demons, something about '700 tortured souls riding on the last card and then poof'...he complained so much that I bound him into my tea-pot...I've been needing a new heater for it anyway, the last one escaped when Olef dropped the pot into my summoning circle.
It was so his fault, I know...I left the horse entrails on the floor, but still...his fault.
So, now I'm posting about the fact that Gilly will be warming my tea for the next ten years or so. I've been threatening to do this for a while when he doesn't cooperate so I suppose it's about time I made good on it.
Anyway... ... ...I'm hungry, I'm gonna go eat now.

An interruption in Life

Well... Violet had been on my case that last few days so I convinced Grimm to host a movie night. The moving pictures are so amazing, Violet never gets tired of them. I am beginning to understand how the TV really is an idiot box. But there are some good things about TV. Grimm has an excellent movie collection. So we are all sitting here watching Arsenic in Old Lace, eating popcorn (well not Violet) and drinking coke (which Violet is allowed to have). This is the third movie this evening. First there was Violet's movie pick; she insisted on watching Snow White for the umteenth time. I never really liked that movie to begin with but since the purpose of the movie night was to amuse Violet...anyway, what made this evening so interesting was that Nora and Hyrum joined us. They never talked to Grim or even let him in the kitchen on a regular bases. But nothing brings people together like old movies. Well...we are about to put in The Thin Man.

Waverly Hall

Well, I guess if I’m going to be blogging about my life here, I had better say something about Waverly Hall itself, and maybe tell you how I got stranded here. This has got to be one of the weirdest houses on the freaking planet. Yeah, well, since so far as I know it’s the only place on this freaking planet where you can get to other freaking planets that would make sense.

Waverly Hall is here in Georgia outside a tiny town called Tiger, which is near a slightly larger town called Clayton, which is near…nothing in particular. Mountains, I suppose. It’s a nice place, but don’t go looking for a mall or cell phone reception. I think that maybe if I stood on top of the tallest tower, held my phone over my head, stood on tip toe, and got struck by lightning, I might get one bar.

This place is gigantic. If you tried to go from one end to the other, you might want to pack a lunch, and I can’t tell that anyone has set foot in most of it for a VERY long time. You can tell how long it's been because the carpet in those parts has been “let go,” according to the Davidsons, and is in places knee-deep. I’ve since learned to stay away from those parts of the house. You can’t always tell when things are coming.

The picture here is of a place I think Mrs. Davidson weedwhacked recently. It's nice and short.

Towers, yes, that's something. How many houses do you know that have towers in them? Not too many I would bet. Waverly Hall has three or four, depending on the day and if the fourth tower is feeling frisky enough to let you find it. (Oh, you can always see it from the outside, but the inside likes to move around to different parts of the house.) The Hall was one of those places that was built to look like a castle, but since I don't think you could keep anything out of this place if you tried, I guess they didn’t think they would have to actually defend it from anyone other than perhaps a horde of angry grandmothers (all the stairways without railings would get them…they might also be eaten by the carpet).

It’s the central tower, the biggest, that really is different. It has the Gallery of Worlds, and has gotten me into a whole lot of trouble. More about that later, though.

TTYL,
Meg

By fortuitous chance of experimentation and glorious science, I bid you greetings!

Fellow sojourners of space and time, I give you my great thanks for the opportunity to test the bounds of knowledge and great minds on this endeavor. I am Igmar Gamelson, honored first born of the great scholar Gamel Igorson, co-founder of the High University of Elemental Theory of Einstarn, and his father who was some sort of brutish warlor, as I recall from father's stories. I come to you from the world of Rune-Midgard, the land of men blessed by the Order of Elements, and the gods which rule them, and us, with varying degrees of success.

I myself hold office in that university, a highly awarded and regarded scholar in the field of Elemental Science, which is, incidentally, how I discovered this peculiar device- You see, I was performing a rather dangerous crossing of the elements of Reality and Order, fluctuating Chaos to catalyze a ujhbjbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbncdfeljmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm /………….

I’m terribly sorry, that would be Vera, my dear pet- She is a rabbit, you see- a blue one. Quite rare, and curious- I would correct that mistake, but I have yet been unable to discover a method-

In any case, I accidentally generated this strange device- and with several modifications managed to connect to its source material plane, and so found this strange system of information, mostly rubbish, and stumbled upon this meeting ground of what I can only assume must be great minds of science to have found their way here as well. I have not been in kinship with other like minds for over two decades, you see- I traveled out of the blessed city to the rural home of my youngest sister, Liv, on the news that she was with child… only to find that she had died during childbirth, and that there was no one to care for her son, Andreas. The father left only an heirloom, and I have not any details to his identity.

I raised young Andreas as I would my own son, in the stead of my dear sister, teaching him in the ways of science and Elemental Theory as is the tradition of young scholars of the great university. Andreas is a bright young man, although not comfortable in society (not a problem for which I am capable of any worthwhile advice, the poor lad), and a bit of a woodsman- But he has a knack for applying his studies to his trade as a hunter and trapper, and brings me many interesting specimens of elemental corruption for study, like my Vera here.

Well, that’s quite enough for a first entry, I think- I am eager to know your thoughts, travelers.

It's Not Paranoia If The World Really Is Chasing You With Pitchforks

My name is Mikaela. I’m nineteen, and not too long ago, I got run out of my own village for talking to a horse. I accidentally did magic, and apparently that means I’m an evil bringer of doom and deserving of execution by pitchfork. So me and my horse Pride ran away and I found out that I’m a Ghost - not the dead kind, but the magic kind (though I have this feeling that there’s a strong chance that I’ll end up the dead kind as well). And now I apparently have to make a choice.

See, there are these four different magical creatures that used to roam this world back in The Golden Age (every world had one, it seems, but we’re never actually living in it) wielding their magic and being generally awesome and terrifying. They killed each other off in true magical creature fashion, but their magic stuck around, began to attach itself to humans (for lack of anyone better, I guess), and four new kinds of magic users emerged. They took on the names of the four original magical creatures and formed the four Holds: the Fae, Phoenix, Centaur, and Shifter Holds. They each have super special abilities and each one is, of course, the best. Or so they each tell me.

I found all this out a few weeks ago now, at about the same time I found out that I was one of the lucky few humans called Ghosts who are able to join any one of the four Holds and become very powerful. So they all want me. So they’re all chasing me. I don’t think I’m paranoid when I say that pretty much the whole world is out to get me.

Then I met Alec, who’s a Shifter, and Tevrin, a little kid who’s a Ghost, and a prodigy, at that. Alec is part of some big cooperative effort to bring peace and harmony amongst the Holds (sweet, right?) to keep them from repeating their ancestors’ mistake and killing each other off again; and they think that Tev is somehow the key to all this.

I’m just along for the ride. You’d think that if Tev was the one they all wanted, they’d leave me alone, but oh no. I guess they figure that since I’m here, they might as well harass and chase and bother and threaten me too until I finally pick one - or get killed. I like to think that I can avoid becoming a crazy magical killer, but I’m not seeing any other options. At this point, staying alive is all I can handle.

Reality...Or Not...

Chris Phillips here. Still have no clue where in the heck I am...I mean, it's a hospital...I think. That, and the fact that there are some really bizarre (and somewhat creepy) people here makes me think I'm in a psych ward.

Speaking of weirdos, there's this one dude that thinks he's going to be a teacher. If I were hiring, this guy would get nowhere near anyone under the age of 30. He's just that sludgy. Makes me shudder just thinking about him.

A lady three doors down from my room thinks she's Mary, the mother of Jesus, and that she's going home soon...to Heaven. She believes all the rest of us are unholy heathens who are keeping her away from where she wants to be and that we're in need her pity and prayers. I'd have to agree with her about the staff, though. They wouldn't be smiling so broadly if they weren't being payed so much.

The other day, I met a guy down the hall who has something he keeps close to his chest. Literally, close to his chest. His hands clutch something, and he's constantly checking on it. (I'm just waiting for him to call it his "precioussss" or something.) But, other than that, he's pretty cool and rather bright. He speaks in complete sentences and everything (which is a rarity around here, it seems). Maybe one day he'll show me what he has.

There are several other freaks around here, but I feel completely normal...except for seeing things that aren't there and hearing voices. The voices keep calling my name. They want my help, but I can't figure out what they want me to do. I guess it doesn't really matter because they don't really exist anyway. The things I see look mostly cartoonish. Creatures that aren't real (like the pumpkin-headed fellow who is so sad, or the cute little fuzzy things kind of like chipmunks). Sometimes the walls "breathe" or the carpet turns into a swirling mass of miscellaneous shapes. Other than that, though...I truly do feel normal.

An Open Letter to My Wife

My "dear" Flavia,

First of all, thank you for helping me break free from the snapping hyacinths. It was kind of you, considering you were the one who pushed me into them in the first place. And while we're on the subject, thank you for letting me have the fun of battling for my life against those flesh-eating flowers for a full twenty minutes before bothering to help me. It's so nice to have a wife who lets me maintain my independence.

Second, thank you for changing my profile picture to a picture of a worm. I believe I speak for everyone when I say you have truly demonstrated your maturity. I would love to repay the kind favor, but, as we both know, I have no idea how any of this stuff works. Would you please change the picture when you're through having your childish fun?

Finally, thank you for putting dragon manure in my boots again. It was just as funny this time as it was the last two -- no, make that three -- times. I hope that you likewise enjoyed the stinging nettle juice that I washed your undergarments in.

Okay, Fiery, I think we're even for a while. I promise to leave your clothing alone if you promise not to put anything else in my boots. Also, I would appreciate not being shoved into any other murder-minded vegetation. Truce?

Sincerely,

Edric

A More Accurate Introduction

Edric is currently a bit . . . em, "entangled," so I'll be posting today. It's only fair, really, since he usurped my turn for posting last time, just out of sheer male vindictiveness.

Edric's unflattering depiction of me was far from accurate, so I'd like to introduce myself more properly. My full name is Princess Flavia Eloise Kathan Shanahan de Laurivoix. It's quite a nuisance having to write it all out, (legal forms are a nightmare!) so in this forum I would prefer to just be known as Flavia. After all, I'm only a princess by marriage, and certainly not by choice.

As you have already gathered, I have certain inexplicable powers, which I've struggled to gain mastery over since I was a child. I believe the full story of how I came to have these powers is recorded in a book or some such volume, so I won't trouble with telling the full story of it here. Anyhow, I first became aware of these powers during the oft-mentioned "frog and fountain" incident. Regardless of what Edric says, I found my powers frightening at the time. I'm used to them now, though they still surprise me.

I can do many things that others can't: pick up and move objects without touching them, charm and tame enchanted creatures, heal people with my tears . . . all quite useful talents, really. Incantations, however, are another matter. I am really quite dreadful at incantations. I always seem to do some part of them incorrectly, or jumble the words a bit, and then odd things happen instead of what was supposed to take place. For example, one night I attempted an incantation that was supposed to make Edric's teeth grow about sixteen inches. It would have been highly amusing had it worked properly. Unfortunately, something went terribly wrong, and I accidentally turned his pillow into an odd fanged creature that began attacking him. In my defense, I did rescue Edric . . . eventually.

I suppose it must seem odd to many of you that Edric and I are married, considering our mutual loathing. That matter is entirely Edric's fault. I was one of four potential brides for him, and he chose me. He claims that he was selflessly putting the needs of our country ahead of his own wishes, but I suspect he just wanted to ruin my life. At the moment we're on the run together, owing to a disagreement between Edric and his father, King Haden. As a result, Edric and I have been spending a lot of time alone together. I don't think it's been healthy for either of us.

Well, Edric seems to be having trouble breaking free from the strangling grasp of the Malevolentium Creophagous (more commonly known as snapping hyacinths). It's been enjoyable letting him battle them on his own, but I probably ought to go help him now. I did, after all, push him in there, almost accidentally.

What Is This All About?

What in the world!

I sitting here, minding my own business, and some guy up and pops into the tavern where I'm waiting for new recruits, and he's wearing really weird clothes, and shoves a brush into my hand.

"Write a brief biography" he says, "we're going to put it on the web!"

What in the world is 'the web', from the way he said it I'm going to assume it doesn't have anything to do with spiders. But then, hey, its not like I've got anything else to do till some recruits start showing up so here goes nothing...yeah, nothing.

My name is Yosu Seshui, Yosu is the family name Seshui is the personal name, this guy didn't sound like he knew that. I grew up in the Yosu family of the Kari clan, which probably means nothing to any of you but hey...I don't really care I don't have a clue who you are anyway. I'm a sorcerer, used to work for the Toshi clan then I met Hisoka and, well, my life took a turn for the bizarre.

See, we were both drunk, which I never do I swear, but we were...it was a hard day, and I kind of convinced her to buy this boat with a trunkload of stolen gold. I didn't know it was stolen at the time, that came up later. Anyway the boat was a piece of crap and it took three months just to get the thing sea-worthy and find a crew and by then, well, the money was gone. Hisoka always wanted to be a pirate, that's half of what the Same clan does anyway, so...we decided to start pirating.
We did that for about three years, just kind of floated around wherever the wind took us and ransacked whoever we came across...except for the Neshelim. Yeah, we tried that once, chased down a Neshelim ship right out of the port, we had to replace most of our crew, we didn't do it again.

We were actually getting pretty good at the whole pirate thing when we chased down this one Merin ship and whoop, up comes a giant sea-demon, eats the ship crew and all. Hisoka, Saba, and I were the only one's that made it out alive, as far as I know anyway. Then there was that whole thing with this insane Merin priest, seriously nuts, and another demon and, well, suffice it to say that by the time we made it back to land no-one wanted to step foot on a boat again for a while.

So, now we're trying this whole mercenary thing, Hisoka's idea...I love the woman but she runs me ragged. I guess there's a war brewing between the Anteisei and the Meiyo, big surprise there, so we should have enough work...if we can find some soldiers, otherwise its gonna be the three of us on our lonesomes...lonesome...whatever. So, uh, hey there's a guy coming up to my table, looks like an Okami...this should be interesting. The guy who asked for this said something about questions so...I don't know how that's going to work but I guess I'll get them if you ask them.

We Now Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Programming...

Nathaniel should probably be posting here. This is the blog for "good" people, right? Well, he definitely qualifies. Guy's a freaking paladin. He'd be much more interesting if he'd develop a few flaws. Heh. I have an idea. I'll do Nathaniel's post for him. He'll never know. Idiot's probably out saving maidens from dragons, or whatever the heck paladins do.

Here goes.

"My name is Nathaniel Masone. No, not 'Mason', 'Mah-son-ee.' It's Italian. I'm not really in touch with my cultural heritage, but my grandmother is. She's a rolling pin-waving, garlic-wielding, holy water-tossing Catholic harridan who attacks poor unsuspecting vampires. I have a cute five year old sister, but she's not any friendlier. The kid's a psychopath who thinks she's a pirate, and tries to keelhaul people on a regular basis.

Despite the fact that I come from such refreshingly violent and bloodthirsty roots, I am a pretty boring individual. I somehow managed to get a position in the faerie court, even though I have no special powers to speak of, other than good getaway-car driving skills and deadly accuracy with a .45. You'd think I would have at least ended up with the mob, but no. I spend most of my time babysitting the afore-mentioned little sister, studying old books, and interfering in the life of a brilliant dark sorcerer, who has so far been gracious enough to let me live."

Yeah, that pretty much sums up Nat. A little healthy moral corruption would do wonders for him. But, enough on Nat. The manticore venom is almost done boiling, and I have to get back to work...