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21 July 2007 @ 01:26 pm
The End of the Line  
It's coming.

I could feel it in my bones.

I knew the moment I saw the guards in the ancient family stronghold that something big was going to go down, and the fact that Uncle Markhus called me specifically was a huge indicator that whatever's going on, it's important. I managed to get an owl from Wyatt (a Yankee Drake....Christ when I heard we actually had an American branch, I was half-tempted to ask Grandfather to disown the lot of them, but Wyatt's good shit and is actually a bigger gun fanatic than I am - must be a Texan thing) asking me what the hell was going on and that he just got a missive from Grandfather and to take his "entire collection of projectile armaments with" him.

* * *
(an excerpt from Wyatt's letter)

What in the Sam hell's going on, Logan?

The family just got a missive from Pops that asked for me specifically. I'm headed for England now? What the hell, I don't want to go to your gloomy, foggy, smoky, starched-collared, tea-sipping, uptight-assed country! I have better things to do! The bulls ain't
("Ain't." Logan actually ground his teeth at this part) going to get corralled by themselves! He also asked me to bring the entire collection over. The collection. It's gonna take me days to portkey EVERYTHING I have to the Castle!

Are we in a war or something? Last I heard from Dad, we haven't mobilized like this in centuries. Does James know anything? How's that crazy varmint doing anyways?
("Varmint." Ugh!) I hear he's married now. And with a rugrat of his very own. The seed is strong, coz!

* * *

Markhus's archives were archaic, much older than the Vault back in the office. I think the only thing that actually kept the goddamned thing secure was the fact that it was so fucking confusing. No one in this life would ever figure out his system as to how to find anything of importance inside.

He gave it to me. He told me to put it in the Hall.

I took the orb in my hands and looked at it. It held the usual, but it also heralded what I already knew - that things were going to head quite soon and as always, our family will be called into the middle of it. All the five, great families will be doing their parts, though I don't know which parts they got. I could feel the degenerative scar on my left arm throbbing in anticipation, that taint cackling in the back of my head at the very prospect of blood and chaos. It's starting to climb on my shoulder. I don't know how long it will be, how many uses of my accumulated abilities I have left, before it finally branches over my heart and kills me. Part of me dreads it. Part of me is relieved.

I hope the Powers, at the very least, after everything, would grant me the favor of seeing her face one last time before a death spirit ships me off to Hell where he'll be waiting. He's been waiting for years. I stay alive just to spite him, but only Destiny knows for how long, not with this scar, and not with what's coming.

And there's Elizabeth.



One day, I hope you'll forgive me.