Tollerian Letters 4
Dearest Marissa,
As you already know, it gets pretty quiet up here, so I thought I’d sit and write you a letter. I never realize how lively our house is until I’m at Dianna’s. It’s a 24 hour party over there by comparison. My room mate is this mute guy who wasn’t there last time. I have my ghouls (that you need to meet) but they don’t get to stay in the same part of the house with me. Like you’ve said before, though, this is all a good thing. Time to rest, time to think. All you have to do is behave for Dianna.
That, and learn the cello. Holy shit, I got cello coming out of my ears. The stuff she wants me to master before she even considers letting me go is just crazy complicated and advanced. I practice non-stop, I have to keep healing my fingers, and I still suck huge donkey dick. Dianna caught on that it’s giving me trouble and keeps ragging on me about it. She says it doesn’t matter how fancy I am with weapons, or how fearless or physical I am, if I don’t have any culture. She’s right, of course. I sure as hell don’t want to end up as some soldier or hound who can’t string sentences together and doesn’t know what to do with his hands if they don’t have a sword in them.
I just wish she’d let me learn the contra-bass. She said it wasn’t a real instrument! She said only sycophants and boring people play bass instruments. I don’t know whether Dianna rubbed off on Chale, or whether she picked him because they thought a lot alike, but man, sometimes I swear I’m hearing him talk through her mouth. It’s a trip.
She’s cool, though. As long as things are orderly and people agree with her or know how to disagree properly, there’s no trouble. It got tense when she asked me about my future plans. She heard about my desire to be an Acolyte and she grilled me for over an hour about my beliefs. It was fucking nerve-racking. I mean, I’m used to criticism and I can handle people not agreeing with my principles, but I really, really didn’t want to spend months with Dianna if she disliked me. It would just be so disappointing and sad. Thankfully, looks like she thinks she can convince me to change my mind through tolerating my choice while showing me the alternative, so she’s being nice. (Nice, for Dianna)
I’m pretty quiet around her, and I think she thought I was a bore until recently. She said she’s been hearing people gossip about me (probably about the Nicole thing, and some other ballsy shit I did as a ghoul that people somehow still remember), which means I’m not a complete waste, in her opinion. She said people only gossip about fools and rising leaders, and I don’t seem like a fool yet. Hahaha!
So, I guess that means you can be proud of me (so far). I hope you always will be, even though I didn’t follow you into the Movement, and I broke our bond. None of that matters, because I still do follow you. You shaped who I am with your kindness and your perseverance. I know I don’t talk a lot about my past. All you need to know is that by the time I met you, I already felt old and stained by things I’d done, and it’s been so many decades since then full of bloodshed and servitude, and so many people who’d been through what I’ve been through would be so much harder and colder than I am, or would have turned into burned out shells. The fact that I still have compassion and strength is largely because of you. Thank you.
Anyway, I guess we’re visiting Dianna’s friend, the Prince of Charlotte. That’s where Laura lives. She’s Harpy again. I remember the time she goaded you into frenzying in Jenisys! I wonder what she’s like, now. I hear Charlotte is more volatile than Richmond these nights. I’ll write about anything interesting that happens, ok?
Write me back, if you want to. Tell me everything. Someone said you might get on the Committee? I hope that’s true. You totally deserve it. I’m rooting for you. Ra ra ra!
I miss you.
Your Childe,
Michael
Dear Madame Marissa,
I write to you from my house in Charlotte. Prince Beverly, a close friend of mine, and a woman whose company and counsel I have long enjoyed, rules a fine city, though its Sheriff leaves much to be desired. There is a lively debate among the court and subjects here regarding the procedures, duties, and philosophy that underpin proper Sheriffhood. Your child has become involved in this debate. Moreover, Prince Beverly herself has taken an interest in him. She and I believe it would be instructive, not to mention interesting, to see if Mister Cobb could succeed as interim Sheriff were the actual one deposed.
Since this is a high-level function which carries with it the potential for great risk to limb and reputation, I seek your permission, as his Sire, to allow Mister Cobb to assent to Prince Beverly’s request, if she asks him to serve Charlotte. I need not tell you how uncommon it is for an unreleased Childe to be granted such an opportunity, and in fact, it is sometimes a form of punishment to both Childe and Sire, as failure is often swift and sound. Neither need I remind you that his honor is linked with yours in all matters until he is released. On the other hand, an opportunity like this can be a rare gift, and my honor is “on the line” as well. If I did not think he stood a fine chance of performing adequately, I would not take the risk.
Please reply at your earliest convenience.
Yours,
Madame Dianna
As you already know, it gets pretty quiet up here, so I thought I’d sit and write you a letter. I never realize how lively our house is until I’m at Dianna’s. It’s a 24 hour party over there by comparison. My room mate is this mute guy who wasn’t there last time. I have my ghouls (that you need to meet) but they don’t get to stay in the same part of the house with me. Like you’ve said before, though, this is all a good thing. Time to rest, time to think. All you have to do is behave for Dianna.
That, and learn the cello. Holy shit, I got cello coming out of my ears. The stuff she wants me to master before she even considers letting me go is just crazy complicated and advanced. I practice non-stop, I have to keep healing my fingers, and I still suck huge donkey dick. Dianna caught on that it’s giving me trouble and keeps ragging on me about it. She says it doesn’t matter how fancy I am with weapons, or how fearless or physical I am, if I don’t have any culture. She’s right, of course. I sure as hell don’t want to end up as some soldier or hound who can’t string sentences together and doesn’t know what to do with his hands if they don’t have a sword in them.
I just wish she’d let me learn the contra-bass. She said it wasn’t a real instrument! She said only sycophants and boring people play bass instruments. I don’t know whether Dianna rubbed off on Chale, or whether she picked him because they thought a lot alike, but man, sometimes I swear I’m hearing him talk through her mouth. It’s a trip.
She’s cool, though. As long as things are orderly and people agree with her or know how to disagree properly, there’s no trouble. It got tense when she asked me about my future plans. She heard about my desire to be an Acolyte and she grilled me for over an hour about my beliefs. It was fucking nerve-racking. I mean, I’m used to criticism and I can handle people not agreeing with my principles, but I really, really didn’t want to spend months with Dianna if she disliked me. It would just be so disappointing and sad. Thankfully, looks like she thinks she can convince me to change my mind through tolerating my choice while showing me the alternative, so she’s being nice. (Nice, for Dianna)
I’m pretty quiet around her, and I think she thought I was a bore until recently. She said she’s been hearing people gossip about me (probably about the Nicole thing, and some other ballsy shit I did as a ghoul that people somehow still remember), which means I’m not a complete waste, in her opinion. She said people only gossip about fools and rising leaders, and I don’t seem like a fool yet. Hahaha!
So, I guess that means you can be proud of me (so far). I hope you always will be, even though I didn’t follow you into the Movement, and I broke our bond. None of that matters, because I still do follow you. You shaped who I am with your kindness and your perseverance. I know I don’t talk a lot about my past. All you need to know is that by the time I met you, I already felt old and stained by things I’d done, and it’s been so many decades since then full of bloodshed and servitude, and so many people who’d been through what I’ve been through would be so much harder and colder than I am, or would have turned into burned out shells. The fact that I still have compassion and strength is largely because of you. Thank you.
Anyway, I guess we’re visiting Dianna’s friend, the Prince of Charlotte. That’s where Laura lives. She’s Harpy again. I remember the time she goaded you into frenzying in Jenisys! I wonder what she’s like, now. I hear Charlotte is more volatile than Richmond these nights. I’ll write about anything interesting that happens, ok?
Write me back, if you want to. Tell me everything. Someone said you might get on the Committee? I hope that’s true. You totally deserve it. I’m rooting for you. Ra ra ra!
I miss you.
Your Childe,
Michael
Dear Madame Marissa,
I write to you from my house in Charlotte. Prince Beverly, a close friend of mine, and a woman whose company and counsel I have long enjoyed, rules a fine city, though its Sheriff leaves much to be desired. There is a lively debate among the court and subjects here regarding the procedures, duties, and philosophy that underpin proper Sheriffhood. Your child has become involved in this debate. Moreover, Prince Beverly herself has taken an interest in him. She and I believe it would be instructive, not to mention interesting, to see if Mister Cobb could succeed as interim Sheriff were the actual one deposed.
Since this is a high-level function which carries with it the potential for great risk to limb and reputation, I seek your permission, as his Sire, to allow Mister Cobb to assent to Prince Beverly’s request, if she asks him to serve Charlotte. I need not tell you how uncommon it is for an unreleased Childe to be granted such an opportunity, and in fact, it is sometimes a form of punishment to both Childe and Sire, as failure is often swift and sound. Neither need I remind you that his honor is linked with yours in all matters until he is released. On the other hand, an opportunity like this can be a rare gift, and my honor is “on the line” as well. If I did not think he stood a fine chance of performing adequately, I would not take the risk.
Please reply at your earliest convenience.
Yours,
Madame Dianna