( A private journal of mounting irritation )

There seems to be a lot going on, for such a quiet time of the midsummer. It seems that my leave isn't going to be much of a vacation after all. I may come to rue going off on my Grassland journey with Sigurd, for one reason or another, but I still intend to do it. Even if I have to make it a shorter journey - to Chisha and back, no lingering in ( Read more... )

Watari lay in his infirmary bed, steadfastly willing himself to not reach up and finger the eypatch covering his right eye. The infirmary hands had managed to stitch  him back together, and he knew he more resembled a mummy than an actual human being, but there was little he could do about it. The shallow cuts would be healed within the week, but ( Read more... )

Who: 
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Who: ( Read more... )

Who: 
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Who:
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