imatreenow | six [action/voice]

[A peaceful melody played on a panpipe can be heard through the journal, or by anyone who happens to be passing by House 52 this afternoon. Veteran residents may recognize this particular tune as one that Martel played on occassion during her stay in Luceti, but to Mithos it is simply the song his sister would play to comfort him all those many, many years ago. Even now, it remains a source of comfort, one of the ways in which he can remember Martel. He can feel her presence beside him as he sits beneath a tree at the edge of the woods behind the house. Outside, despite the chill. Martel's music was never meant to be contained by walls, just as her soul and his memories of her were never meant to be contained by death.

Recieving his sister's panpipe (yes, the very same one, even though it had been broken when last seen) has been the first good thing to happen in quite some time. It is like a reminder not to give up -- Martel still needs him.

Mithos is entirely unaware that the journal is recording him, thus replies to any voice responses (or written responses) will occur last chronologically. Just for clarification.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Ciel has just hit upon what it is that frustrates Mithos so much. He can't do anything besides wait: wait for the Cruxis Crystal to turn up, wait for Martel to arrive. He's so powerless in this world, but he can't give up. Under pressure - the weight of so many obstacles stacking up - it doesn't take long for someone to snap, especially if they've already snapped countless times before. Now imagine the whistle a kettle makes when its contents reach boiling point.]

Shut up! Just shut up! As if I would ever turn back and accept anything as it is! What do you understand about me or Martel? [Urge to beat Ciel senseless: maximum capacity]

As I have said, I see no need to understand a fool who would whine about his "misfortunes," only to be indignant about a situation in which he is helpless. Can you do nothing but complain? If you will no accept it, Yggdrasill, do feel free to show me some results in future.

[Hah. He shifts his position and-]

Good day.

[Book, shut]

[Book, violently flung in lieu of throttling Ciel.

He wanted the last word, you miserable dog.]

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