Rosella, I've just got a letter from my uncle--in reply the one I sent him about our being engaged. Uncle Neil approves of the match, though I think he's the only one. My younger uncles probably want a chance at you themselves and my aunts probably only see you as being in their way. As much as they wanted me married six months ago, they certainly aren't very enthusiastic about it now. But you needn't worry about any of them. I won't even let them in. It will be your house, and you'll far outrank all of them anyway.

So we'll be married in the spring, as we planned, and we'll leave this horrid City. Once we're married, my father won't be able to touch us, and my fortune will really be my own. Will it be England or Daventry? Or perhaps both? We can travel back and forth easily enough, at least, perhaps, until the children are born. You'd probably prefer Daventry, and it's probably safer there than in London.

I just can't believe my aunts wouldn't approve of you. You perhaps don't like me talking about it all, but it hasn't been very long since Emmeline died, I know--and that she died in such a way probably only makes it worse for them. I know a few of my aunts were very much in favour of that match. But, then, they were friends with the Lauderdales and probably were some of the force behind Uncle Neil's arranging the marriage in the first place. How strange that it would be him both times. Of course, that first time he told me that I could either marry Emmeline or I could be sent off to boarding school. I think it was a way to keep me under some kind of control, but it hardly worked, you know.

So perhaps they're angry with me because they think I've leapt from one woman to another to another to another far too quickly. But that's an utter lie. Perhaps I did love Emmeline in some way. She was my thorny princess, and I didn't realise that untile after she had died. It was when I saw her body laid out in its coffin that I think I realised my affection for her. She still seemed so alive. She still seemed as though she was about to open her eyes and shout at me for having slighted her somehow. But it has been a sad parade of doomed love affairs to me, I suppose, even so young as I am.

Of course, after Emmeline's death, her parents decided that Merry ought to marry Emmeline's brother, Guilford, who was a madman and was kept locked in the basement. They were that desperate to preserve their family line and fortune that they would have taken my sister. They wouldn't leave us alone. They were determined to fix themselves with our family however they could. They were in a desperate way, I think. Perhaps it was a shame that their son couldn't be kept so drugged and childlike any longer. He was a grown man, and a grown madman. I'd never let him anywhere near her, and certainly not to marry him, even if it was to be a very long engagement. Maybe none of my aunts approved of that match either, and it was only his parents who forced it all.

As I recall, that wasn't very long after I'd been reunited with Merry--of course, I call it 'reunited' though we'd never met before. It's a strange thing to meet one's younger sister after so many years. Her mother was a maid in my father's house and she is their child. I'm not at all surprised that my father would carry on affairs with the maids in the house. I suppose that makes her my half-sister, but she hardly seems like it. That she'd try to avenge her mother like she did might as well have proved her to be my sister. I'm glad to have found her, even if she has nearly managed to get herself killed at least three times. She's forever wandering off and getting herself in trouble, or else she's being kidnapped, or else she's just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I plead with her to keep herself safe, and I try to keep her in the house, but she never listens to me. And yet, she never learns, no matter how many times I've saved her from burning houses, that mad doctor, or insane police officers. She hates me when I insist that she stay indoors for her own protection. Either she's in absolute peril or she's furious at me. But she's my sister, and the last of my family. I'll keep her save, her above all others. It's best that she isn't here, even if I do miss her. She's safer in London, waiting for me. I'm sure she'll take to you, Rosella, when you two finally meet. She's been kept carefully away--that's my own doing, so that the family curse won't hurt her the way it always hurt me.

And I won't let it hurt you either, darling.

Merry could come with us, of course, if you don't mind. Riff will come with us, certainly. I can't have a household without him. And we'll keep those indiscretions between us between only us--I think I understand now why his eyes were so sad when I was so desperate to understand who Meridiana truly was--

I'm far happier to have been reunited with my half-sister than I was to discover I had a half-brother. There's enough madness in my family already between my father and myself. We certainly didn't need a third, and certainly not one older than me. I'm glad he's gone from the City again. He was the one who spoiled so many of my chances--he even found Lailis while he was here in the City that very first time. I've never forgotten her nor ever really forgiven him.

I'd hoped that fleeing here would put me out of my father's reach, even though it did mean leaving everything behind. But I'm the one my father wants most to hunt down and find. He wants to reclaim his fortune. But he was declared dead, and his fortune came to me. Perhaps he should have considered that ordeal before pretending to kill himself. I know he hates me and for more than that, and I know he'll stop at nothing to find me. But we'll escape, Rosella. I know that we will.

It really has been something of a parade of unfortunate love affairs for me--both in London and now here in the City. And you must be tired of hearing about them. It's a wonder you paid any attention to me at all with my reputation. I've never been quite sure what it was that drew you to me, but I've never forgotten how we danced together. Perhaps it was because it was a challenge to you. I know you like puzzles and riddles. I hope I'm the most complicated one you've yet found. That would gratify me more than anything.

But Rosella, it's the day after Christmas and why haven't I see you yet today? I know I've been a bit melancholy--it's the season that does that to me. I saw you yesterday evening, but unless there's some sort of strange custom about it, I don't see why I shouldn't see you again tonight. You must be tired of hearing me talk, so I shall be perfectly silent and only listen to the things you have to say.

And you didn't have any mistletoe up last night at Christmas dinner, you know, so I've found a spring for you.

May I be so forward as to pay a call on my bride-to-be even this late in the evening?

[Private to Dorian Gray || Moderately Hackable]
You know I'm to be married in the spring. I hope it's completely obvious why I'm telling you this. You've known about my engagement to Rosella for weeks now, I think. It's the only thing I could do at this point, ask her to marry me, and my uncle supports it. I can't imagine that she's not been scared off already given all the madness in my life. We've quarrelled, of course, and I've thought more than once that that would be it. Especially after my own selfishness nearly killed her friend--I rather think she might be in love with him, though she won't admit it.

My real purpose in writing to you is to tell you that I've not told Rosella--if only because she's quite different from Emmeline--that I intend to keep lovers even after we're married. With Emmeline, we almost agreed to it, even as angry as she was with me when we did agree to it. I think it might destroy Rosella if she were to hear of it. She's been raised to be delicate, I think, despite how often she tries to act daring.

It's dangerous to write this so openly, I know, but I want to see you again soon. Tomorrow, if you can. I've seen enough of Rosella. I've acted like the good fiance for long enough. I'd rather see you. And I want to see you tomorrow.

I know that this too might be another doomed love affair, but I think I almost love those as much as anything. Do you care? I think you must not.

I want to see you tomorrow, carelessly.
[//end private filter]

~C.

[ooc: Today on Days of Our Young and Restless Passions... Guess who's cursed to think he's engaged to Rosella but still carrying on a love affair with, shockingly, Dorian Gray! So much drama! Stay tuned! Although, really, lol, a lot of the rest of the stuff...is just canon. And with barely a twist. Sob. Also, in regards to IC Christmas presents...please to be handwaving? ;; I could barely get my RL shopping done, so I've had no chance for IC shopping. If Cain knows your character, please imagine that he either sent or delivered a gift. If you want to work out specifics, please just drop me a line!]

( HO HO HO(S) )

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope everything tastes alright. It got a little rushed there at the end. And if anyone needs receipts for returns or anything, just let me know.

[ooc: Claire will have been running around all day, so if anyone would like to use this as a bump-into-post, that would be boss. Otherwise, just assume these were all dropped off in the morning/afternoon by Claire Bennet + Santa hat. Also, as always, please assume these gifts are like 10 times cheaper than they appear to be. Happy Holidays, Poly!]

[Look whose going to pull ninja cat move on a certain somebody.]

Not too surprising I would return during a curse.

Little seems to have changed during my absence from this world. Few more holiday decorations have been added - how festive.

( (Private to Road) )

My father, Malcolm Dresden, was a good man, a generous man, a hopeless loser. A stage magician at a time when technology was producing more magic than magic, he had never had much to give his family. He was on the road most of the time, playing run-down houses, trying to scratch out a living for my mother. He wasn't there when I was born.

He wasn't there when she died.

He showed up more than a day after I'd been born. He named me, then took me with him, on the road, entertaining children and retirees, performing in school gymnasiums and grocery stores. He was always generous, kind-more kind and more generous than we could afford, really. And he was always a little bit sad. He would show me pictures of my mother, and talk about her, every night. It got to where I almost felt that I knew her, myself.

( He died in his sleep one night. An aneurysm, the doctors said. I found him, cold, smiling. Maybe he'd been dreaming of Mother when he went. )

The weird thing is he's come to me in dreams and visions since then. It's odd meeting your father when you're the same age.

My mother is a whole different story. Margaret Gwendolyn LeFay Dresden was a scary, scary lady. She's been dead for over 30 years and people are still afraid to speak her name. I guess she wanted to revamp the laws of magic to include things like justice rather than just limiting use of power. It sounds good but in the end it's not. People tell me she was brilliant, erratic, passionate, committed, idealistic, talented, charming, insulting, bold, incautious, arrogant... and short-sighted.

But I know she loved me. She's also visited me in visions and I can tell she regrets a lot of her decisions. Probably all of them but having my brother and I and marrying my father. She died when her former lover was so furious over her leaving him he had an entropy curse cast on her, causing her to die in childbirth.

Aaaaand that's way, way more than anyone wanted to know, I'm sure.

[ooc: *I pretty much just quoted that entire top part from the books, so Jim Butcher's words, not mine.]

So that's the curse today? To talk about families?

Hn. It doesn't do much good to talk about them when they're all dead.

[ooc; Not cursed. He's just reminiscing a bit, he hates these type of curses-- he doesn't realize it recorded either, and well since this is a very touchy subject with him, just a warning that he might not even respond~]

My family is a very old one, stretching back hundreds if not thousands of years. We've a castle, after all, in Cornwall, and lands there too, though I don't visit any of the lands my family holds often. We've a crest too, if that carries any weight in the City: a griffin. From our very origins, we've a reputation not all that unlike the Borgias, if you follow my meaning. I shouldn't be at all surprised if some of the family came and went to Italy more than once. It seems entirely plausible to me, knowing what I know. We were known for our reputation. Whether the rank of Earl came before, after, or with that reputation, I don't know. I only know that the title is almost as old as the family.

( [Public Post || Viewable to All] )

I've aunts and uncles in droves, but I've not a care for them. My father is a madman, as is my half-brother; my mother is dead, as is my beloved cousin--no matter what that creature might claim. For all that my family seems vast, those are only blood ties. Of them all, perhaps only Uncle Neil comes closest to being a real uncle. I am related to them, yes, but my family is small: Merry and Riff and me. If I can keep them near me, I could be happy forever.

There is something between us that is deeper than blood ties. And I think no one but the three of us can understand that.

~C.

[ooc: And...it's all canon ._.v I may have missed a few uncles or aunts mentioned in passing, but I tried my best! I hit the big ones, I think. I may edit this as I go through the canon again ah ha ha ha but nothing big will change in this post. I just might...add a bit.]

The Gray family was always a little wrong. Okay, a lot wrong. My father, Samson Gray, was a murderer. He was afflicted with the 'gift' of knowing only a little, having only a little, and being aware of how much he was missing. He'd kill people for their abilities. When I was five, he sold me for cash to my aunt and uncle, then walked outside and murdered my mother. He used telekinesis, opening her head up like a ripe orange before he pushed her out of the car, leaving her in that dusty parking lot. It's the only time I can remember seeing my mother's face, that shocked expression...

My uncle had never wanted a child, so he left two weeks later. The old out-for-a-cigarette routine. He never came back. My aunt raised me as her own, never telling me the truth. I wonder sometimes if she always expected me to become a monster, like my dad. But she was still always there for me, up until the end.

All I'd ever really wanted when I was a kid was for my father-- my uncle-- to come back. I wanted a real family. I wanted him to be proud of me. I miss that hope, small as it was.


...thanks so very much, City.

Christmas time all over again, huh? Of course. Practically everyone with a mouth has been talking about it. As if we could ever fucking forget. Then the brand spanking new year comes on after. I wonder if we're going to get more world ending signs when it gets closer to New Year's Eve. I seen it happen. Who the fuck really knows.

Santa packs a punch for an old guy. Goes to show you better watch out for them.

I think the 'deities' have very contentedly settled back into their routine of cursing us every few days. And it almost seems like October, when the curses alternated between the stupid and the terrifying. Although I rather think the curse from earlier this week was both stupid and terrifying. I can hardly imagine Father Christmas wielding axes and swords. Sometimes the 'deities' surprise even me, even if the pattern of curses is familiar.

I'll still count myself fortunate that I didn't encounter that monstrous Father Christmas in the City on Sunday. After I saw a few posts on the Network, it seemed wiser to defend myself and prepare in case I did encounter him than not. Once again, I've just barricaded myself in my room and waited for midnight.

Although some would say it's a shame that I didn't feel an urge to explain my good and bad deeds during the past year. It's like gossip, and I don't know of many people in the City who don't like gossip. I let the anniversary of my return to the City slip by entirely--it's been a bit more than a year that I've last seen home and I've certainly done enough in the City--though whether good or bad I shall leave unanswered. The real Father Christmas, if there were one, would know.

Christmas is this Friday and today is already Tuesday. As I recall, yesterday was supposedly the shortest day of the year--if the City follows those same rules of the seasons. It certainly seems to, though we've not yet had any real snow. Yes, there was a curse that divided the City into those who liked warmth and those who liked cold, and there was a bit of ice and snow then, but hardly the snowstorms we've had here in the past.

Perhaps we'll have some snow by Christmas. So long as it isn't an absolute storm, I think it would be rather enjoyable. There's no curse today, nor was there one yesterday. The odds are best that there will be one tomorrow. And that means that there may also be one on Christmas, or the day after.

If the 'deities' have any mercy in them, they won't set down a curse on Christmas Day. I've had enough holidays cursed this year and I don't think I'll stand for Christmas Day to be cursed.

( [Private to Sam Witwicky & Princess Rosella || Unhackable] )

( [Private to Opera House Residents || Unhackable] )

Riff, I think we could easily finish with Christmas preparations today, especially since there doesn't seem to be any kind of curse at all today. We've certainly had enough problems keeping us from preparing much for Christmas so far this month, but we've not much left to do. I think we could finish it all today and we'd do best to take advantage of a day without a curse as must as we can.

And you are taking Christmas Day off, of course.

Now if only I knew what to give you for Christmas--I can't just give you a Christmas box here--That would just be disgraceful--I'll have to think of something better--

~C.

[ooc: Blah blah blah. Sorry for my lack of updates of late. I'm still recovering from final projects and things. ;; Cain didn't encounter the crazy Santa, but he certainly saw everyone else crossing his path. Cain, Cain, Cain, you've got to learn to live a little more dangerously...]

I have my memories back. Not only that, but I'm me again- however better or worse that might be. It was a hell of a time, back home. Thankfully, that's all over now, even if I'm never going to get that popcorn grease out from under my nails.

Thank you to everyone who was willing to help me out when I was last here. I appreciated the effort, I know I was tough to talk to.

The watch shop is, once again, closed for repairs. I made a mess of things when I was pulled out before. That's okay, it'll give me time to take care of a few things.

( Private to Peter )

[accidental voice]

... Hn? ... You. A bit early, aren't you?

[Is that a chainsaw being revved up? Yes it is.]

... I already delivered your presents once, what do you want n-

[and now that chainsaw is cutting through something. Thankfully it's not Hiiragi. Okay, this is definitely not the Santa he knows]

Tch. I should have figured. Even Santa isn't off limit for curses...

This has become extremely old.

No offense intended, Buffy-san.

If anyone knows how to get this thread off, I'm sure we'd both greatly appreciate the insight.

EDIT: That had better not be it.

Down one.

It seems like a repetitive cycle.

It's always hard to keep people in one place, isn't it? It's better this way, as it always is.

( private | unhackable )

I need to get this out of the way before this place lets me say anything else, since apparently letters to Santa that'll never even get delivered are all the rage these days. Does anyone here actually even still believe in Santa?

Naughty →

✳ I probably shouldn't have crashed that plane, even if it was for the greater good
✳ Traveled back in time with Hiro: you shouldn't really screw around in the past
✳ Brody
✳ That thing with West, back in Costa Verde
✳ Left Sylar in that building
✳ Punched Jackie in the face - like two years ago - even if she deserved it
✳ Lied to my dad about a boy
✳ Lied to my dad about a boy to the extent that it really, really screwed things up
✳ Probably caused my parents to separate
✳ Stole money from Lyle's drawer he doesn't think I know about
✳ Beat up Elle
✳ Kissed people I shouldn't have, even if, technically, I don't feel like that's my fault or anyone's fault

Nice →

✳ Helped Doyle get away from the government. Actually, everyone I helped get away from the government.
✳ Got Elle help, never mind the consequences, and stopped a plane from coming down. All in the same trip
✳ Offered Ginny a place to stay
✳ Good Christmas intentions
✳ Left Sylar in that building
✳ Told Chase I would try to make nice with Eden
✳ Didn't pound on the ceiling with a broom for a week
✳ Bought Mr. Muggles a sweater. Because it's cold
✳ Made coffee deliveries a new Thing
✳ Mexico
✳ Protected Angela
✳ Boxed up everyone's things for safe-keeping, just in case they come back

A few of those feel a little out of place, all things considered, but whatever. They're out there. It's done. Let's move on. Please, let's move on.

Just a warning, Ginny Weasley moved in with me. Which means a lot for both the two of us and for everyone around us. I've never really gotten to live with another girl my age, so I kind of... apologize to anyone in Building 12 who's been bothered by all the thumping and banging around while she was moving in, but I'm pretty sure everything's settled now. I think after the holidays are over, we're going to be looking for a couple more roommates, though, since this place has four bedrooms and between the two of us, that's a lot of rent to cover. So if anyone is looking for a new place to stay it's... something to keep in mind, I guess?

Anyway, other than that, I'm getting kind of a late start on Christmas shopping, so everyone should feel free to leave me some sort of clue or hint or treasure map with an X on it so I can have some idea of what to get people this year. Seriously, or you're just going to end up getting a bunch of cookies and cupcakes like last year. Baking might be a hobby, but I get the whole Baking Overdrive Thing Around the Holidays from my mom, and I don't think it's going away anytime soon.

It's hard to believe that this'll be my second Christmas here. And the second one away from family.

PLAYER NAME: Ian
AGE: 20
PERSONAL LJ: pridefall
EMAIL ADDRESS: meaculpable AT live DOT com
AIM SCREENAME: priestlyish
EXPERIENCE RPing: Several years

CHARACTER NAME: Jack "The Joker" Napier
CANON SOURCE: The Batman Mythos
TIMELINE: Detective Comics 655, shortly after being shot in the face.
CANON ABILITIES: Here

( Cut )

Good? Nice? This year I've been a saint.

I haven't fired anyone. I haven't been caught breaking and entering. I've made leaps and bounds educating the young. My amnesty actions with the Irish are on Peace Prize grounds. Let's not forget my impact on the Hispanic community: gracias, Caspian.

But enough about me. I'm curious to see what I'm getting out of it.

Riff, given everything that's gone on this month, we've not had time to plan for anything--not even Christmas--and here it is the 17^th of December. I suppose the chance, however false it might be, to go home and the risk, however real that was, of the City's destruction could distract anyone.

I've been invited to Christmas dinner, too, though we may have one for ourselves amongst the opera house residents too. I suppose I'll have to decide which invitation to accept. I'd rather like to bring you along--

For those who might find themselves wondering, I did manage to survive those ordeals the 'deities' or that Architect threw us into. I found myself trapped in my room, then a grave, and then I was made to dig myself out of it and into the cemetery. It was hardly an easy task, or need I say so?

Never mind the curses that came after, as exhausted and injured as I already way, both having to endure a glowing, red nose, and having mistletoe sprouting everywhere. That seems to happen most every year. I know I've endured that curse at least twice. And, really, the next time mistletoe starts sprouting everywhere, the best thing to do is to keep inside and keep to yourself. I didn't have any trouble with it. Then again, I still wasn't feeling quite well, but I wasn't so badly affected by it all. Admittedly, yes, it was tiresome to endure the mistletoe growing from my ceiling, but nothing came of it, fortunately. I doubt anyone would have wanted to kiss me in that state anyway.

As I recall, though, it was around this time last year that there was at attack of zombies. I wasn't in the City at the time, for good or ill, but I did hear about it when I returned. I almost think that December should be dreaded as much as October. There's usually at least one week that's as wretched as that. And, as I recall, the 'Stewards' came in January. Perhaps January will be quiet this year.

But first there's Christmas. And if it's the 17^th of December, that means tomorrow is the 18^th and my birthday. It's a very strange thing to realise that I'll be turning eighteen for the second time in the City. At least, that's the best I've managed to figure out about it.

I was seventeen when I arrived in the City for the first time, and I stayed here through my eighteenth birthday. I could have been here through my ninteenth birthday as well, but the City saw fit to show mercy enough to send me home for a fortnight of my time and a week of the City's time. So I was seventeen again while I was at home, of course, and I didn't remember anything about the City. And that would mean that I was seventeen again when the City drew me back in--unless, of course, I gained that year back with my memories, but I somehow doubt that. So that means I'm turning eighteen for the second time in the City.

I suppose I could be turning either eighteen or nineteen or even twenty. But I rather think I'm turning eighteen. I feel, more or less, as I did when I turned eighteen before, even if it is strange to have even one's own age stopped, to some degree, by the City. Time stops in our worlds while we're here, even our own lives.

Either way, some would say I've reached my majority. Not that I haven't already been living independently for years now, of course. And I don't know that I'll really have come of age at home until I'm twenty-one, but I've already inherited both my title and my fortune--I will have had those for ten years by then.

Perhaps it doesn't matter at all, really. After all, the City is a separate thing from home. After all, it also means that I've been here for another year. It's been almost exactly a year, from my count, since the City brought me back in.

That time I was fortunate. I suppose that's some of why I hoped that tear in the sky really did lead home.

I should have really learnt from my past years here, as long as I've been here.

Although, I suppose I've learnt enough to only ask what was going on at the edge of the forest today. I heard a few rumours on the Network and I saw a little of what was going on. If it was a curse, it was a small one. I watched what I could as one might a storm, but nothing came of it.

And that's just as well.

Riff, I've a few plans for tomorrow evening, as I'm sure you expected.

~C.

[ooc: LOL UNANNOUNCED HIATUS~!! School tried to eat me there at the end of the semester and I just couldn't spare the time to play like I wanted to--and when I did have time, I was beat and had no inspiration. I'm working on the last pages of my last paper right now. So, um, hi! My excuse is that Cain was recovering from his injuries (from Yuri, from the carousel tiger, and from digging himself out of his own grave), recovering mentally, and maybe he had a fever. Also, for the record, Cain doesn't have a canon birthday, so I've claimed Kaori Yuki's birthday for his birthday. And that would be tomorrow, December 18^th (Cain seems like he would have been born in winter). He's turning 18...again!]

I hate, hate, hate chlorofiends. Plant monster attacks are never fun. They're always a lot messier than you'd expect them to be.

The Christmas tree in the apartment looks good though. Strings of popcorn, candles, and ornaments and all that. Almost like home. You know, if I actually put a tree up back home.

Detective Beckett, do you have any plans for tomorrow evening?

[ooc: Pretend this went up before Tara returned all dead and such.]