I am Not Yet Dead: Keats' Journal post 0001 - Poly
[Keats' paper journal. Located on his desk in Office 13]
1989... the final issue.
I can't get the idea out of my head today. Oh what a wonderful world it would be if that were just a trick. Perhaps some act of Belgae's to get under my skin. He was hardly the sort for such jibes- quite formal. There are times I think I hear his voice saying "Sir Keats" in the back of my mind. It is like ice water hitting me; sometimes I turn around to nothing and other times I do not turn around.
I would rather not see the dapperly dressed invisible man again, even if I am curious how he intended to drink ale without the aid of a body. It’s the facts that I am having trouble reconciling and that is no fault of their messengers. Still, he leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
It is a difficult thing to realize that time has blurred itself together for me. It feels like less than a week ago that I experienced Doolin and that realization that life- myself, more accurately -was not as I had thought. Yet, somehow, in the end, I found myself back at my office and at my desk.
This is the Netherworld too, right?
Why did she even come to find me? Ellen, I could have … yes, I could have lived without that thought plaguing the back of my mind. I know the difference between the Netherworld and the real world. I’ve traveled to both and know them both well. I know the difference between a half life, those souls who are grounded to earth realm for whatever reason and a full life. I know what a Folk is, I know how to combat them. I am a Guardian.
Not a Guardian Spirit.
(ooc: Security isn't stellar for Keats' office. If anyone makes a serious attempt to break in, this is accessible)
1989... the final issue.
I can't get the idea out of my head today. Oh what a wonderful world it would be if that were just a trick. Perhaps some act of Belgae's to get under my skin. He was hardly the sort for such jibes- quite formal. There are times I think I hear his voice saying "Sir Keats" in the back of my mind. It is like ice water hitting me; sometimes I turn around to nothing and other times I do not turn around.
I would rather not see the dapperly dressed invisible man again, even if I am curious how he intended to drink ale without the aid of a body. It’s the facts that I am having trouble reconciling and that is no fault of their messengers. Still, he leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
It is a difficult thing to realize that time has blurred itself together for me. It feels like less than a week ago that I experienced Doolin and that realization that life- myself, more accurately -was not as I had thought. Yet, somehow, in the end, I found myself back at my office and at my desk.
This is the Netherworld too, right?
Why did she even come to find me? Ellen, I could have … yes, I could have lived without that thought plaguing the back of my mind. I know the difference between the Netherworld and the real world. I’ve traveled to both and know them both well. I know the difference between a half life, those souls who are grounded to earth realm for whatever reason and a full life. I know what a Folk is, I know how to combat them. I am a Guardian.
Not a Guardian Spirit.
(ooc: Security isn't stellar for Keats' office. If anyone makes a serious attempt to break in, this is accessible)