Written By Thea
July 24, 2022, 11:08 a.m.(1/24/1018 AR)
I don't look forward to much these days, but right now? I definitely feel that changing.
Written By Rosalind
July 24, 2022, 11:04 a.m.(1/24/1018 AR)
I'm learning that in times of chaos, we do better together. Instead of arguing and fighting amongst ourselves.
Written By Thea
July 24, 2022, 10:40 a.m.(1/24/1018 AR)
Before I got pulled away, I thoroughly enjoyed Pravuses Diamond Dalliance. I can't recall if I've ever attended one prior. It was--very. Well...I feel like it should be experienced by all.
Written By Denica
July 24, 2022, 12:07 a.m.(1/23/1018 AR)
If you can't handle the heat, step away from the flame.
Forgive me when the smoke clears, I only know who I am.
Forgive me when the smoke clears, I only know who I am.
Written By Thea
July 23, 2022, 11:18 p.m.(1/23/1018 AR)
Meetings. So many meetings in my future. And a trip to Highhill. Busy days ahead....
Written By Rosalind
July 23, 2022, 11 p.m.(1/23/1018 AR)
So much information. So much to go through! All in all, I think it was a successful Explorers meeting.
Written By Mabelle
July 23, 2022, 12:45 p.m.(1/22/1018 AR)
Relationship Note on Liara
Some friendships are brave and long lasting. Some I am honored to call friend. Some are both.
Written By Mabelle
July 23, 2022, 8:52 a.m.(1/22/1018 AR)
Take the time to mourn the loss of your loved ones or you will find you will need to mourn your mirth as well.
Written By Oriana
July 23, 2022, 8:28 a.m.(1/22/1018 AR)
When Donato and I were young, we had a governess we liked very much. She was strict, but understood the need for young children to be set free every day, and that doing so, unleashing their limbs to be flung wildly in the serf or play with wooden swords on the beach, does in fact refine their pens in more subdued moments.
She was not from Caina. One day, after she misjudged the speed of an approaching storm and we were stranded in a low tide cave until it was over, she fell very ill. She developed a cough that shook her entire body, and in the night she coughed so violently that she struck her head upon the bed, and that is how she died.
I feel a tickle in my throat.
She was not from Caina. One day, after she misjudged the speed of an approaching storm and we were stranded in a low tide cave until it was over, she fell very ill. She developed a cough that shook her entire body, and in the night she coughed so violently that she struck her head upon the bed, and that is how she died.
I feel a tickle in my throat.
Written By Nigel
July 23, 2022, 6:39 a.m.(1/22/1018 AR)
It's most definitely an art.
N.
N.
Written By Enyo
July 23, 2022, 12:52 a.m.(1/21/1018 AR)
Entry #2, 1018
I'm changing it up. Instead of by days, we'll just count by how ever many I manage to write. You may be asking yourself why, dear Scholar, and let me tell you why. Counting how many days between entries feels like a really hard thing to do, and I find that I'd just rather spend my time doing other things.
What other things? Is this what you are asking?
WELL! Let me tell you.
I found myself having a very interesting discussion about how pigeons are not doves, only to discover that they ARE! I'm still torn on how I feel about this. Are they? Maybe...I still want to say that my initial question remains unanswered. So if there is anyone that actually knows the answer that happens to read this one day, please. I beg of you....
Do doves taste as delicious as pigeon? Especially with a nice dark red wine...and roasted root vegetables. Delicious.
Now I'm hungry, Scholar. I shall say that I look forward to anyone who may be able to answer this question.
I'm changing it up. Instead of by days, we'll just count by how ever many I manage to write. You may be asking yourself why, dear Scholar, and let me tell you why. Counting how many days between entries feels like a really hard thing to do, and I find that I'd just rather spend my time doing other things.
What other things? Is this what you are asking?
WELL! Let me tell you.
I found myself having a very interesting discussion about how pigeons are not doves, only to discover that they ARE! I'm still torn on how I feel about this. Are they? Maybe...I still want to say that my initial question remains unanswered. So if there is anyone that actually knows the answer that happens to read this one day, please. I beg of you....
Do doves taste as delicious as pigeon? Especially with a nice dark red wine...and roasted root vegetables. Delicious.
Now I'm hungry, Scholar. I shall say that I look forward to anyone who may be able to answer this question.
Written By Caspian
July 22, 2022, 3:36 p.m.(1/20/1018 AR)
Relationship Note on Haakon
true.. but the Black Pigeon sounds far less intimidating then the Black Dove.
Written By Zakhar
July 22, 2022, 9:07 a.m.(1/20/1018 AR)
The art of telling someone to fuck off.
It can be done peacefully with a nudge towards the door, some will even say to include a smile.
I prefer to offer to take a thumb off of their hands, add it to the satchel which I carry.
It can be done peacefully with a nudge towards the door, some will even say to include a smile.
I prefer to offer to take a thumb off of their hands, add it to the satchel which I carry.
Written By Savio
July 22, 2022, 8:59 a.m.(1/20/1018 AR)
Relationship Note on Haakon
It's all true.
Written By Pasquale
July 22, 2022, 8:48 a.m.(1/20/1018 AR)
I hate the cold.
Written By Evelynn
July 21, 2022, 8:09 p.m.(1/19/1018 AR)
I am so -pleased- to see the crafters in the city so inspired. We do know that naught good can come from idle hands and I am enjoying the products of their work.
I -do- hope they keep in mind that euphoria is ephemeral. Soon they'll need a new hit. But wherever will they find it? The sources are finite. The last thing they'd want is to create work that prompts nothing but apathy in their audience.
I -do- hope they keep in mind that euphoria is ephemeral. Soon they'll need a new hit. But wherever will they find it? The sources are finite. The last thing they'd want is to create work that prompts nothing but apathy in their audience.
Written By Beatrix
July 21, 2022, 7:10 p.m.(1/19/1018 AR)
Caspian has hardly changed. A restless social butterfly and adventurer. I worry that those of his spirit sometimes get themselves into trouble that someday they may not be able to dance so nimbly around. But then, a life so active is one few get to live. In a way I'm jealous. It makes me want to be more like him.
If I did not have my own concerns, I wonder if my spirit might be much the same.
If I did not have my own concerns, I wonder if my spirit might be much the same.
Written By Beatrix
July 21, 2022, 7:04 p.m.(1/19/1018 AR)
My return to Arx has been interesting so far. I find myself welcomed by most I meet and indeed, well-accommodated by my family! It's quite a pleasant feeling. Still, being away from what I once called home is a bit dizzying to me. The snow here is unlike anything we see in Tor. I hadn't even the clothes to endure it at first until one particular chance meeting.
All an adjustment I suppose. I will find my place here, come what may. My House has given me all the head start I need. It is now on me to carve a path with grace and strength. I simply need to decide what that looks like.
All an adjustment I suppose. I will find my place here, come what may. My House has given me all the head start I need. It is now on me to carve a path with grace and strength. I simply need to decide what that looks like.
Written By Doll
July 21, 2022, 6:15 p.m.(1/19/1018 AR)
Who actually reads this shit? Fuck it. I'm getting up and getting out more lately. Making connections. Only so much you can do alone I'm finding, so I guess that's a focus right now: figuring who's worth my time, who moves in this fancy-pants city of silks and who just rips farts into the wind - whether they at the top or here at the bottom. We'll see.
Written By Haakon
July 21, 2022, 2:08 p.m.(1/18/1018 AR)
In sapphire heaven, the snow-white dove flies,
Its virtuous image despair defies.
By words as these, the artful poet lies,
For at first look, imagine my surprise:
Gnarled feet, misshapen toes, dim little eyes,
Filthy pigeons, best plucked and stuffed in pies,
No sweet song, instead mournful bleating cries.
They are in truth the Savio of the skies.
Its virtuous image despair defies.
By words as these, the artful poet lies,
For at first look, imagine my surprise:
Gnarled feet, misshapen toes, dim little eyes,
Filthy pigeons, best plucked and stuffed in pies,
No sweet song, instead mournful bleating cries.
They are in truth the Savio of the skies.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.