Thursday, October 14, 2010

Seattle

Landed here, my(Sage) home...for now at least. I feel like my life is going to become similar to George Clooney's character in the movie 'Up in the Air.'

I(Sage) miss movies...in-flights don't count.

Went to a place called Mercer Slough. (Pronounced SLEW) It's a wetland, I(Sage) used to go here on school field trips. It's very pretty, but I must have looked ridiculous standing in the middle of a nature trail wearing the suit the company makes me wear.

Dropped by the folks, they're fine, said I(Sage) looked good. Lost some weight, need some more sleep. Usual parental stuff. Had a nice dinner with them, and now I'm back at the airport, waiting for my next flight.

The Reservation was one of those 'Off the Grid' places. A tad more organized though, mid-way between hippie and survivalist. People seemed actually sane. Well, apart from the fact that no one would talk to me(Sage) or look at me and they said they'd gag me if I spoke too much. They knew I was a mental leper through and through.

The Old Man(Survivor) that they took me(Sage) too, who did speak with me, was one of the founders of the place. He was very old, German, and he knew of Der Ritter, his great-grandfather's brother was the Hero who killed It. A simple thresher scythe, a field of wheat on fire, mud everywhere, and just him and Der Ritter...neither of them left.

The Old Man(survivor) had also been in the presence of /Construct/. Just as the (Oracle) cannot be harmed by Him, neither could the old man. The Old Man said that it was because /Construct/ wasn't allowed to take him. He was born on German soil, he Knew himself to be a German, Der Ritter was only allowed to take the old man, and It was dead...this bastard son in this bastard country couldn't touch him...also there was one more important thing.

He(Survivor) still had the Scythe of his Uncle.

It's a rather pathetic looking thing. The handle's been replaced several times it appears, and the blade is a solid piece of rust. It's also rather small, the blade's about as big as my(Sage) hand. I'll try to fix it, but I'll probably have to replace the blade as well. 

He(Survivor) gave it to me(Sage), you see.

I(Sage) can't Title it. It doesn't Belong to a Sage, and it can't be Used by a Sage...also there's the whole Rule Change Concept I mentioned...so who knows if it will work. Depends on how strongly the /Construct/ wishes to be associated with Der Ritter I suppose...

Ugh, it's safe here...but it smells. Distinctly too. The woman sitting next to me(Sage) is obsessed with Breast Cancer...The 10-year old across from me is afraid to fly.

Before I got to the Gate there was a little girl who was sitting by the windows. She was being Hunted by Him, that I could tell instantly...she was scanning the horizon, searching for Him. An Operator Symbol painted in whiteout on her Hanna Montana backpack. (M(Hermit) would be so proud.)

Then she turned around suddenly, and looked at me standing in line at a Starbucks. I glanced over at her...and she screamed and screamed, then ran for her mother.

No one seemed to notice...

We're boarding...ugh, lovely sleep.