The notebook

EDIT: Just noticed the title. I dearly apologise.

I thank Mother Elder for being so kind as to update the blog during the recent internet deadness! And, um, sorry if my contribution to the whole Fear thing hasn’t been the greatest – but again, I’d hate to rush in against the will of people who actually know what they’re doing.

For the sake of completeness, I also ought to add a few more things: first, to prevent confusion with other bookstores we have agreed to codename this particular place. I’m… well, not good with names, as you might have guessed from early posts, so I let them pick. The bookstore is now Sarie Marais. That’s not as short as I’d expected and I have no idea what the hell it means, but okay. >_> (do I sound different?)

And secondly, they gave me an old block notebook. Bought from someone who bought it from the bookstore a long time ago, they said. Plain blue worn-out cover, some torn-out pages and lots of messy but readable enough writing inside. Neat. Inside the front cover there also lays in (what I assume to be) thin crimson ink the scrawling:

2 seT MEN fri

Still looking on the insides now. We’re onto something at last… I don’t know whether to be excited or terrified, but let’s do hope that a question or two will be answered quite soon.

Things and some other things

First of all, have a look around.

Interesting? Maybe, yes.

More than a murder? Actually, maybe, but that’s besides the point.

Augh. Forgive the endless wangsting, but it’s been months since everyone outside the family seemed to stop listening to me. Fuck knows that I didn’t need to have the people who are supposed to be in this ignoring the news of murder for fabric-y pursuits.

Haven’t been able to meet up with Mother Elder and Father Willow, but did manage to contact the former through email as usual. God, do I love it when people give prompt replies – no less when they’re otherwise not supposed to have touched computers at all. Not sure if I’m in the mood to print-screen the whole thing and spend an hour wishing the home internet was less of a soulless monster (I have been informed that the guy who runs the ISP is a maths professor), but she did ask me to keep my calm and stay off the place for a while. Not sure how that would help, but I wasn’t exactly the most experienced in this sort of thing, so I obeyed.

Just a couple of days ago I got another email. Things are fine, it said.

But don’t barge in yet, for the safe side of things is no doubt the preferable side of things, as it is usually safer. Okay? :)

Don’t know if mentioning them this much is exactly wise, but… well, you know. Having people who do actually have some idea on the thing I’m dealing with is usually bit easier. I’ve actually thought that setting up a semi-public help network of some sort, or anything that would let the shared knowledge not go to waste would help, but eh. Not much point in believing in the bloggers now.

Mother Elder, Father Willow, if it’s not too much to ask, please don’t go away now. Please.