The Struggle Vs. Me.

What is it with me and handcuffs? I wonder if Susan even had this problem.

We seem to clash with various authorities quite a bit. I should really look into getting that taken care of--this getting arrested thing is becoming a habit. A habit that chafes the wrists.

First, there was the FBI. It wasn't their fault, really--HAIRLOSS put them on our trail to cover his disappearance from... wherever he was designed. Champaign, I think. He decided to explain his sudden absence by suggesting that he was taken by terrorists--and then those terrorists backed him up, surprise, surprise. So then when they tracked pictures of me with him...Matthew Underwood seems to be linked to terrorists. And I got taken in--repeatedly. I feel a little bad for the agents that didn't make it, but dang it, I warned them. I'm not a terrorist, I'm a Noble, and even the Valde Freaking Bellum says I can't let them walk over me. Fortunately, the FBI collapsed. Turns out that in strange aeons such as these, even Bureaus may die.

But then, Mr. Cross calls us up to look into the death of a friend of his. Yeah, the Power of Mysteries, solver of many, calls us--mostly for Inquisitor support, I guess. And, of course we look into it--not only has Cross helped us for little reason before, his friend happens to have played a rather badass agent on a popular television action series, 24.

So, we go. We bypass some cops on the scene with a little bluff from Cross, and we figure things out--good old Jack Bauer was a sacrifice of sorts for a miracle to stop Torture from being an effective way to gain information. And, when we walk outside, more important cops are there, and they get jumpy that people were in and around the crime scene without their permission. They were Cammoran, just like the assassin, and they didn't realize who we were. So on go the cuffs. It didn't take long for someone with more brains than police equipment showed up and figured out who we were, thankfully.

So, I need to remember to get Kimiko on the phone and see if she can get us a...badge, or something. Maybe lots of badges. A plethora of them--it might help my delicate wrists.

~Matt

Choose Your Weapon.

These are some of the things that come up in my life now.  No kidding.

I've been working on an alchemical mixture to help me out in case I get jumped (or, as an inquisitor, I need to jump someone/something.)  I've had the flower mixture figured out days ago--that was easy.  I wanted to make a weapon that could actually make me a threat up close.  I've gotten used to throwing around cemetery scenery to hedge people in or save my ass, and that works fine, but I wanted to contribute to the hurt-factor of our little team.

I'm using hemlock, of course.  It's a personal favorite for an obvious reason, and I want the weapon to be deadly.  Pomegranate flowers and crown imperial both add a mixture of elegance and power that help define the thing to be badass--and, pom flowers have the right sort of connections to my estate anyway.  It's a deadly sort of elegance.

But the question I've been really stuck on--is this going to be a sword, a scythe, or a gun?

Yeah, like I said.  These are the sorts of decisions I worry about nowadays.

Bar Crawls and Bad Ideas.

The Duke of Death has a hangover, but will stare grumpily at the lit screen anyway.

So, because we're all friends (most of us don't have a social circle outside the restaurant), the crew of Boston's had a bar crawl last night. Because the normal way to socialize involves the same hang-out, the same people, and the same hook-ups, I guess the real treat was changing the scenery every hour. Lyndsey organized us...which seems fitting, as "playing the field" that much sort of deserves to make her an unofficial social chair.

The entire time, I just felt more and more disconnected from these people, aside from being a little nervous about someone skating near my estate by drinking too much. I seriously kept checking--I forgot how much they can put down. I felt like everyone's life-guard, not one of them. It really sucked. And then, Lyndsey decided I was cool enough to join the club. I'm shaking my head a little disgustedly just thinking about it--I mean, she's attractive, sure, but being the latest guy to join the conga line isn't.

So, I left a little early, worried some more about alcohol poisoning, and probably looked like a jerk. AND I got just drunk enough to hurt now. Of Mortal Form--check.

Then, there was the real Bad Idea. A friend--okay, more of an acquaintance--asked me to bring someone back.

I've never felt comfortable with this ability. I can't do it for everyone--so who do I choose? Should I give anyone a second (at least) chance? What will that do? Is it fair to all the others? I've got a friend, Simon, who's a ghost. Nice guy, Simon. Doesn't deserve what happened to him, and we put him in the position to get hurt--so, why shouldn't I help him? I thought that this might be a nice test--if things worked out alright, maybe I could help Simon. Maybe I could help a lot of people.

I'll skip the boring details and get right down to the shocking result--it turned out to be a mistake. There were Excrucians involved. We stopped them, and got a pretty nice victory out of it, but bringing a woman back put Creation in danger (mostly Magic and Murder, but still).

I think I'll help a lot of people by not bringing people back. That sounds like the best plan. I just wish it didn't make me feel like a jerk.

~Matt/Death

Getting Closer to My Estate

So, in recent past, I've been stabbed by an Excrucian weapon named (foreshadowing, everyone!) Betrayal, punched through the chest by the Power of Cheating, and then accidentally stabbed again by Betrayal...go figure.

Usually, when I make fun of Syndi for being young, she threatens to break my wrist. Since that would kill me, at the moment, I get a free pass. Looking on the bright side, you know?

I don't know if I mentioned Syndi. She's my sister, sort of. The Power of Chains...and, like, twelve or something.

~Matt/Death