I went to the lair to jump on the Incomplete pile. Some things were changed. Some things were scrapped. And a few were placed in the queue.
Closing my eyes for five hot seconds meant dropping into deeper sleep. I lost track of the number of scenes, but they all had the same theme:
- I have shit to do, and a plan to follow.
- I start following the plan but folks nearby would start questioning the plan.
- Little by little, the plan is altered. Sometimes by good intentions. Sometimes by bullying. Sometimes because a Knowing Person tells me I’m wrong. Sometimes by trickery and manipulation.
- I am no longer working towards my goal. Instead my efforts are benefitting others at my expense.
- I realize this, and go back to my original plan. Even if it meant starting over from scratch. I shitcan the hot mess, ignore the cries of those that distracted me, and proceed with no fucks.
- Along the way, I am called out for shaming and derision because I put myself before others.
- Did I mention, “No Fucks Given”? Good.
- My plan is completed. Those that tried to use me are thwarted. I collect my token of completion and the scene ends.
The scenes jumped from droll present day, to steampunk, to medieval Europe, to space stations, to dwarven caves, to hilltop fires, and more.
I woke to find no Sir Nathaniel this morning. He was very withdrawn last night before bed. And now, he’s not here.
While there is a chance he moved on, I greatly doubt it. He was still sulking yesterday. This feels more just him leaving the house.
The house is a gate. No telling which way he went.
Did I let him down? Should I have forced the issue? It’s past All Soul’s Day and Fet Ghede, so it’s not soul season. But the winter solstice is still coming up. He’s not the type for it. But he hasn’t had any living interaction until I came along.
Yes. I’m worried.
I’d much rather see him in the fires of the Boneyard, finally letting go, than having more pain layered on.