Desmond Cusick's Diary

Callisto high, Ilse drunk. I can't help but wonder what could come of such a combination.

It's hard to fall asleep. The house smells like Siddartha's, and my mind will not rest. I hope the open windows will help. It allows things to air out, and more importantly, it's cool outside.

I almost wish it were colder.

I miss the s

I miss Il

I think I need a drink.

----

OOC Note: What follows are Desmond's sleep-laden thoughts after rolling over and discovering that he is not alone.

Ilse?

Charon.

Mmmngh, Ilse. Rrgh, Charon. Smells. But Ilse. Warmmm Ilse.

Zzzzz.

( 'I'm not gonna lie an'say its a /bad/ ass. ...Hah. Bad ass. Nevermind, Des. You -are- a bad ass, but you don't have one.' [Callisto] )

Desmond comes home after a harrowing day to find Callisto smoking something decidedly not legal. Desmond gets serenaded by a high bear.

OOC Note: Backdated a few days. I fail at journaling, so I'll add to this later. Meanwhile, have a log.

( 'I've never even BEEN loved back, and even /I/ know what the FUCK IT LOOKS LIKE.' [Ilse, Callisto] )

Ilse breaks into the house to steal pills, and Desmond happens to find her on the bed when he gets home. The usual joyous emo happens, and Callisto becomes a relationship counselor. A breakthrough is had.

There is nothing more horrific than being rendered useless, unable to do the things one needs and wants to do. I dread growing old. I plan to die in my prime, doing the things I love, putting my mark on the world.

Though perhaps death surrounded by loved ones is equally pleasant.

Callisto is strange. I think that if ever I had a sister, she would have been like Callisto. Perhaps that is what she is: a sister. Isn't that what she is to Ilse? Isn't that what she is to Ilse?

I think I shall visit Mother tomorrow.

( 'Consider yourself lucky to be able to grow old with all the people you know. How long do you honestly think /I/ will live?' [Callisto] )

Callisto cooks fish, and she and Desmond discuss his wound, Ilse, and growing old. Ah, roomies.

I haven't shared a bed with anyone since Ils

I have mi

It's comfortable.

( 'Hey Des~. Can I stick around again?' [Callisto] )

After spending the night at Desmond's house, Callisto returns to ask for the same favor again. The two wind up sharing a bed--BUT NOT IN THE WAY YOU'RE THINKING.

Now I have a bear living in my house. There have been stranger things, I suppose--like a wolf, a raven, and a rabbit.

I think I'll get a new couch tomorrow. This one has too many memories is old and uncomfortable. I should convert the childr spare bedroom into a guest room, so that I'm not inconvenienced when there are surprise visitors.

The Kargas have moved to Fairhaven. It's better than their cramped place in Bridgelight, I'm sure. It also gives me the opportunity to pick up some free white wine.

( 'Now, who is this friend of yours. A healthy young lady I see.' [Callisto] )

Desmond runs into Erol and Callisto outside the Na'Ostiria clinic and acquires a small cask of white wine and a very large bear-woman.

The installation of the door and trap in the coal chute is going splendidly, and Callisto has assured me that it will be done by tonight. I will certainly sleep easier, knowing that such precautions have been taken.

( 'Perhaps having someone lose a hand when they attempt to infiltrate Headquarters would serve as a fine lesson to them.' [Callisto] )

Desmond checks on the progress of the reinforcement in the coal chute, and Callisto demonstrates the workings of the cage-trap. It turns out that the thing has very morbid capabilities. Desmond approves.

Callisto is truly a remarkable woman, and I am both glad and honored to have her on my side. I only hope she stays there.

I wonder if bears are solitary creatures?

( 'You'd be astounded to know what I have ''lying around'', Des.' [Callisto] )

Callisto checks up on Desmond in Ilse's absence, and the two discuss the possibilities of reinforcing the coal chute in the basement of Blood Meridian Headquarters. Callisto offers to install a few security measures.

It took a few favors and running about, but I finally got Mother relocated to Fairhaven. This is only a temporary arrangement until I can find her someplace on the Upper Level. I don't like having her so close to the slavers, but it was the only thing I could pull together on such short notice. By the end of the week, she should be back above.

I checked at the Flying Siren for the document Babenkov promised me. It has not made an appearance. If he has betrayed me, it will be his final regret. For his sake, it had better be there tomorrow.

When I returned to headquarters, I found my Ilse and Callisto sitting in one of the common rooms. Callisto apologized for her earlier actions, and she has expressed interest in adopting one of the Spartans. I can think of no better home. She is hesitant to agree, but I believe she would make a fine mother.

Ilse says that one of the children--Brandie, the bumblebee--has contracted a difficult infection, and her treatments are not working. The child will need stronger medication, but it cannot be given until Ilse determines the nature of the bacteria. When she does, I will see about getting her what she needs. I only hope it isn't too late.

And despite all these troubles, my Ilse continues to surprise me, and I hope she never stops. I wonder . . . would I be allowed the privelege of calling her my mate now? Or is that a title reserved only for the married shifters?

( 'Ah'shoulda beat the fuckin'livin'shit outta you when I found out about the fucking rat and the goddamn hands and the bullshit that was up behind my back when I /helped you hurt them/.' [Ilse, Callisto, Raven, Sunshine, Brandie] )

Desmond and Ilse deal with a minor problem concerning the children. In the middle of it, a drunken Callisto barges into HQ. There is a brief scuffle that ends with Callisto tranquilized, and Desmond with a dislocated shoulder. Log part 2 of 2.

Today has been one of the most difficult, harrowing, and exhausting days of my entire life. And throughout it all, there was one underlying theme: Ilse. It is very strange that one woman has consumed my days so easily.

Ilse and I spoke of our relationship tonight, which was likely the singlemost draining event of the day. Usually at this point in a relationship, I find it best to withdraw, but Ilse is much too important for me to leave, and I speak not only of her worth as an ally. I truly am fond of her.

Of course, I am not fond enough that I will entertain thoughts of marrying her or producing children with her. I have not changed so much as to drop to such a level. Me, a father! That is a most unappealing thought.

Callisto paid us a visit tonight, in which she managed to dislocate my arm. She was obviously very drunk, screaming about the children and Muldoon. I'm afraid the children were quite terrified--they witnessed the entire ordeal.

I am not a man who seeks drugs as a means of escape, but I am so very grateful for the painkillers Ilse has given me. It is quite nice to have her next to me tonight, after all that has happened.

I could certainly use a cigarette. This was a fine time to give them up.

( 'I am fond of you, Ilse. There should never be any question of that.' [Ilse, Callisto, Raven, Sunshine, Brandie] )

Desmond and Ilse discuss their relationship and come to the conclusion that they are "fond" of each other. After this is discovered, Sunshine interrupts with news of Raven wandering away. Log part 1 of 2.

Ilse was informed of a slave--a Komodo dragon shifter--heading towards Headquarters with the intent to eat the children. For once in our long rivalry, Fenrir's Children and Blood Meridian actually combined to fend off this threat. I hope it is a sign of things to come.

The offender is now secured away in the basement. She's a confused girl, but I think she will come around with the proper incentives. Perhaps she will be swayed to our side. I don't think her intention to eat the children was born of malice.

Not moments after subduing the girl, I received a summons to go visit Mara Phoenix. Alone, it specifically says. I do not know what the guildmistress could possibly want, but I am in very little humor to listen to her if she dares to spout any further excuses for Muldoon.

( 'BAD BAD STUPID STUPID CAT!' [Angelo, Amy, Callisto, Zu, Ilse.] )

It seems that whenever I think that things can't possibly get worse, they do.

I told myself I would not indulge in whiskey for several weeks after the last incident, but last night was the worst of my life. All those children. . . .

Gretchen.

Callisto brought me bones today whilst I was at the Siren. Bones, she told me, that she suspected belonged to a female tiger shifter of about five feet in height. Bones she discovered behind the Hunting Lodge. Bones she linked to the Siren.

They were burned. The bastards burned her body and then dumped the remains, as though she was worth nothing! Was she alive as she burned? Was she aware as her life was snuffed out that she had experienced her final moments? Was she in pain?

Dear God, let her final moments have been peaceful.

At least now she will have a proper burial. A part of me refuses to believe that she is truly gone, but the coincidences are too great to ignore. I feel so numb.

The lack of sleep and the whiskey caused me to do something severely regrettable today. There was a tiger-shifter at the Siren--a young girl of about sixteen. She was a friend of Jackson's, apparently, and she had the audacity to take my drink from me. I'm afraid that I lost control, and I attacked her. Fortunately, Ilse was there to stop me. As if she didn't have enough on her mind already, I had to act like some . . . beast.

I will have to ask Jackson for that girl's name, so that I might approach her under more civilized conditions and apologize. I did it already, but I feel it is not nearly enough.

And Ilse . . . I think she had the worst of it last night. I think her horror at seeing the children exceeded even my own.

I'm ashamed to admit that, for one brief moment, I blamed her. If she had not captured Babenkov, we never would have had to deal with this mess.

But I helped her. I did it willingly. And though it may be under such terrible circumstances, we succeeded in liberating fifty children who would have normally spent the rest of their lives in bondage.

She sleeps next to me now. She didn't want to be alone tonight, and I can't say that I disagreed. It's strange. I've never before spent a night like this with a woman. But it is comforting.

She's so beautiful when she sleeps. Peaceful, as though nothing can disturb her. I wonder what she dreams about?

OOC Note: The next few sentences are scribbled sloppily, as though with a tired hand in a darkened room.

Mara. Mara Phoenix. Wes said she was there. I wonder if she knows about Muldoon's trick?

I stopped by Headquarters to bandage myself after my encounter with Magda. Whilst I did so, Jackson came in and insisted that I help him deliver some food, clothes, and toiletries to Babenkov. I tried to refuse, but I was too tired to keep up much of a resistance.

Ilse came in while we were down there. I played my part well; I don't think she suspects a thing. She assessed my wounds, bandaged me, and we set off on a quest born of her cunning mind.

We met up with Callisto and a man named Hicks, who is responsible for the recent bombings at Kings Cross. He is a mutant with the ability to control sound, which explains why the blast wasn't heard for miles around. Accompanied also by Jackson, we set off for the Slaver's Guild.

I never thought spray-painting a building could be so enjoyable.

We didn't get away completely unscathed. Muldoon showed up and blasted at Callisto with that elephant gun of his. It tore off half her face, but she survived and, in fact, regenerated every bit of flesh lost. She has a remarkable healing factor.

To celebrate, we all went to Hicks' establishment--Hell, located in Foul Bay--for drinks. Ilse indulged herself a little too much and challenged Callisto to a battle of dancing. Fortunately, we were able to coax her off of the bar before she made a fool of herself. Though I certainly wouldn't mind seeing her dance in private.

Callisto makes me wary, at least in the case of Ilse. I have a feeling that if I ever hurt the good doctor, I'll have a very angry bear-woman after my skull. Though I really have no intention of hurting Ilse, it makes my desire to keep my encounter with Magda all the more secretive. It's fortunate that I have no further plans to meet up with Magda.

Tonight was a very good night. It has been so long since I had so much fun.

Apparently, while Babenkov was losing his hand last night, someone blew up the auction block at Kings Cross. The sheer irony and coincidence of it all amuses me greatly. Life is certainly going to be unpleasant for Muldoon for a while.

I wanted to witness the carnage for myself, and so I took some time away to go down to the Fairhaven district. Coincidentally, I ran into Navarre, the bear-woman--whose name, I have discovered, is "Callisto"--and Ilse at the station. Callisto apparently took part in, or at least witnessed, the events at Kings Cross. I truly envy her for that.

I seem to have upset Ilse--at least I think so. She did not look pleased when that woman passed by, but am I not within my rights to notice a fine woman? Of course I am.

Still, Ilse is important to me. She is crucial in that she has an insider's ear when it comes to Fenrir's Children. She has Navarre's trust. I can use this against him. It is, therefore, best that I don't upset her. If she needs the illusion of monogamy, I will uphold it. God knows women are jealous creatures, and wolves are notorious for their faithfulness to one partner, so perhaps Ilse is especially easy to enrage in that regard. I will have to be cautious.

Looking at the marks on Ilse's face angers me. Navarre, of course, was displeased when he saw them, and he agreed with me when I expressed a desire for the one responsible to be punished. His hypocrisy amuses me. He will seek punishment for the injury caused to his cousin's face, but those who killed his wife roam free?

It will bring me such pleasure when this business with Babenkov is concluded. I grow tired of the stench of rat in the basement.

Speaking of business, I am already late for an appointment.

OOC Note: For the log this entry pertains to, go here.

Goddamn Vasili Babenkov. I hope he rots in the darkest pits of Hell.

No, no, that is too good for him. If ever there was a curse too terrible to utter, I would wish it upon him.

And to think my evening was going so well! Outside of Headquarters, I stumbled upon Ilse, Jackson, and a large bear of a woman I met at the Bazaar once previously. They were standing around the corpse of a young kangaroo boy--he couldn't have been more than sixteen. It was tragic. Apparently, Ilse had tried to save his life, but failed. Ilse and Jackson accompanied me back to Headquarters; the other woman stayed behind to watch the body.

Whilst I arranged to have some of the less productive Blood Meridian members take the body to the Graveyard for burial, Jackson and Ilse cleaned up. Ilse had to burn her clothes, so I let her borrow some of mine. Jackson had not returned when I arrived to give Ilse some wine, and so she and I discussed Vasili's fate.

The woman has a maddening effect on me. She can tease me in such ways, and I am such a weakling when it comes to beautiful women. And what beauty! Not just her physical assets, but her cunning mind and wit! She concocted an excellent plan that will ruin Babenkov's life forever. It baffles me to know that she and Navarre are related. She certainly got the better genes.

I can't help but wonder what Navarre would have thought of us, had he been there tonight. His own cousin in my arms! I can imagine the look on his face.

Sadly, this romantic interlude did not proceed as I had hoped. Ilse insisted that we visit Babenkov.

He was talking to a mouse when we arrived--I have already arranged for the cracks in his cell to be filled up to prevent future visitations. After speaking with him for a short while, Ilse left. I foolishly remained behind, wishing to exchange words with the rat bastard. When I turned to leave, he threw a dagger into my shoulder. The ones who were in charge of disarming him after Ilse first visited him did not do a very thorough job, for he had hidden some knives inside his boots. I suppose I am to blame for not taking away his arsenal on the first night.

I demanded that Babenkov surrender his weapons. He refused. It came to blows, though this is certainly too mild a phrase to describe the blood-letting that occurred. He shredded my stomach quite badly, until I finally managed to throttle him into unconsciousness. I would have killed him, were he not so important.

Instead of spending the rest of the night in the arms of a beautiful woman, I passed the hours being disinfected and pieced back together.

I hope Babenkov is fond of his boots, because I am going to burn them tomorrow.