Men!!!! Who can understand them? I dont think they understand themselves. They do or say something stupid and we are suppose to understand. Yes i admit i was very pissed off when i was told what ALterio asked Lina. But can anyone blame me?

I didnt sleep the whole time he was gone from the Island. And when he returned he was in really bad shape and i sat up with him every night. Took care of him, watched over him, brought him whatever he wanted.

Now he is healed enough he can ask Lina for sex? Well.... I was respecting the fact he wasnt healed or able to do anything. I was ready , willing and able from the first night he got back here. He could have just laid there and done nothing if he chose. So if he isnt getting -any- its his own damn fault. Now that he is healed, he could try coming home at night and not sleeping in his office.

"crumbles up the note that was brought to her about where he slept last night"

I even apologized to him for not trusting him. But did he listen? Obviously not or he would have came home last night. Well, I hope he has sense enough to come home so we can put this behind us. I hate this fighting with him. I dont want to waste our time fighting over bullshit. "she sighs and glances at the note she wrote to him and sticks the coupon in it and folds it neatly and gives it to the runner to deliver to him"

Please come home, darling, im not mad at you. I am upset now that you didnt come home last night.

"she rubs her eyes after another night of no sleep, and walking the floor wondering where he was, she lays the quill down and blows on the wet ink and closes the journal"

--Journal entry 14 August, Vixen Blade

:::::: He lays in his bed, tossing and turning as once more sleep refuses to come to him. Once again his own mind will not allow him to enter into slumber for if it did he would undoubtedly be haunted by visions of her. Rowsy. He decides to give up for a while and relax as best he can by doing the only thing that can help him do so... putting quill to parchment and releasing his soul through his fingers for he knows he cannot do so through his lips... not yet. He writes.... ::::::

Tossing and turning
Eyes cannot close
I know the next day
They will not open
Night and Sleep beckon
Invite me for a while
I simply cannot accept
For I cannot even think
Daylight is a horror show
The previous night a blur
All I remeber was a lovely cottage
And sleep was no where near
Drift off moments before the dawn
Awake a mere hour later
A full night's rest is a paradise thought
In my personal, private pleasure
Half sleep, half wake
Strugle through the day
Eyesight blurry and and lids heavy
Sleep is a thought away

:::::: He stops for a moment as he allows the moon's silver rays to dance upon his bare face. He is used to writing by the moon's light when need be or he dare not light a candle for fear some passerby may look upon his face. He knows that he is a gruesome sight to behold, tis why he wears the mask always in public. He stands and makes his way to the mirror to torture himself further by looking at his horribly scarred visage. As the moonlight dances off the mirror illuminating his face, anyone else would see an extrememly handsome man looking back... a classic handsomeness that would make almost any lady swoon. He only sees... the scar. A small silver line that runs along his chin. Barely noticeable to any who were not looking for it. A reminder of a past battle that he was lucky to escape with his life intact. The scar was much worse at first... a dreadful thing for a bard to wear a cleft made by a man's blade on his face. The scar has ealed over the years... but in his mind he still sees it's horrid, jaggedness upon him. He turns, disgusted at the sight of his own face and takes up his quill once more. This time to write about the one thing that makes him feel safe.. the darkness. ::::::

I sit alone, alone in the dark,
The silence almost deafening,
As well it should be,
Amidst all the confusion,
Amidst all the pain, I sit and think,
This is my place of refuge,
My escape from all that plagues me,
A safe haven for my mind to rest,
A place where my soul is at ease,
Where no one bothers me,
Where I can be invisible,
Where no one can hurt me,
All alone in the dark,
I drift away,
Ushering all thoughts of anguish,
All thoughts of solitude from my tortured brain,
Peace and solace are welcomed,
Embraced in my weary state,
Until I am calm and oblivious,
All alone in the dark,
I am a wanderer journeyed far,
Distant from my court,
Long gone from kings and queens,
Yet still so close to my lands,
So close to my black past,
All alone in the dark,
Am I prince or pauper?
Sovereign or servant?
It is not important here,
Here none know my station,
None care of my place,
All alone in the dark,
Outside a tempest brews,
Lightning forking across pitch black,
Illuminating the sky intermittently,
Making the air crackle with electricity,
In here I am sheltered from its ferocity,
All alone in the dark,
I know I cannot remain forever,
All too soon I must venture out,
Continue on my journey,
Wandering through the day,
Far from the sanctuary I have found,
For now I sit quietly and rested,
All alone in the dark.

:::::: He stops writing and knows that it is time for him to leave his precious darkness and deliver another letter to the fair maiden Rowsy. The one who has captured his heart, mind and soul and yet has naught spoken a single word in his direction. Strange how man cannot seem to control his heart but can control his own destiny. His destiny belongs to Rowsy~Sinclair... if she will have him. Once more the best parchment and golden ink are removed and set before him. Only this time he decides perhaps not a poem, but a story would be more in order. He begins to write... ::::::

--Journal entry, 14 August, Lord of Masks

:;She sighs as she lays out on her couch, and comes to a blank page in her journal. She smiles as she starts to write::

Last night...well...let's just say I had a moment of clairty. You know the ones, where everything comes together, and you figure it all out. Well, I did, and saw how awfully I have been acting. The way Claude acted towards me wasn't all his fault and I know that now. I apologised so much next time I saw him, and he was willing to speak to me. So friends again. And well...most likely a bit more than just friends. I do love him, I know that now.

He is the only one I can let my defenses down around and show my true feelings. I mean I don't get that angry with anyone else, or any thing. I feel...so...comfortable with him. I never want what happened before to happen again. I really don't. And he is so sweet. I mean he walked me home...it was so late, I offered him to stay the night...just to sleep...but if anyone finds out...it'll be all twisted. But just slept.

::Smiles a bit::

Perhpas in time we can give them something to talk about. Ah well...I went on long enough...

~Lina

P.S. I know I am going to get a lot of slack for my actions, but I don't care...it's my life and I live it the way I choose.

--Journal entry 14 August, Lina Metallium

::in an all too familiar setting, he arrives at the treehouse after dark and kisses Saria as she sleeps. Then he makes his way to the Bedroom and gently whispers "I love you" in Tiger's ear as she sleeps. A bit restless he sits at the foot of the ladder and writes::

*sighs* it seems as though it's been ages since I looked upon your smiling face. seems like it's been years since we shared a a laugh or even a kiss. how busy you have been with the shop, and I trying to locate my brother *shakes his head*

it's a comfort though when I sleep to feel your heart beating slowly next to mine...and your gentle kiss when you leave so early in the morning. I love you Tigs....with all my heart. until I see you again my love..in the waking hours...we shall continue to be Two Ships Passing In the Night

love, Vrax

::he lays the journal open at the breakfast table so she will see it when she rises and lays the quill beside it going up to the bedroom and off to sleep::

--Journal entry 15 August, Vrax Lorinar

~she sits up in the middle of her very messy bed in late afternoon, gnawing her thumbnail, still dressed in her nightshirt, silver-blonde hair still sleep-mussed. Sunlight pours through the window, and she eyes it reproachfully. She turns to flop face-first into her pillows, groaning, and searches with a hand for the journal hidden beneath. She snatches her quill from the low table next to the bed, dips it in ink, and props herself on one elbow to write~

I'm about to lose my mind, I think. How can it be that the very thing I did and was chastised and shunned for is now being done by the very person that resented me for doing it? This is me, breathing deeply. I won't say anything because I have something against telling people how to live their lives, and I really don't want to get in the middle of all that. See, I won't even write it down because I'd prefer just to let it pass.

~she sighs and scrubs her face with her free hand as the canaries burst into song~

It still drives me nuts though, don't get me wrong. I've been dealing with this kind of double-standard my whole life, but it still gets to me. Two in a row is just too much. Least I got to hit Ben last night, even if he broke my nose. I needed that. Oh, I also got to yell at Alterio, which felt good at the time. Left him a bit perplexed, I think.

~her eyes drift over to the copy of the Sandpaper she's been using to line the bird cages~

Right, the gossip columnist strikes again. Did you know I'm a maneater? Yeah, apparently I have a new guy every week. News to me too. Alterio was, oh...two months ago. I'm still trying to deal with that nice little healthy relationship in my head, here. It's not totally left behind yet. I'm not ashamed to admit that. That doesn't mean I want him or anything, it's just still a good, deep wound that hasn't fully healed over, and every now and then gets infected and...icky. The columnist said I was with Breuse. Er...Breuse and I are friends, yeah. I'm trying to help him out and all. If we were considered a couple, I missed the memo. Oh right, and me and the lunatic. We were such a hot item, I'm tellin ya, me an' him...oo la la. Uh-huh....

~she rolls her eyes~

As for me and Warlock, I'm stepping very very carefully through that one. I like him a lot, sure, he's great company, he's funny, he's good-looking, he knows how to make me laugh when I need to laugh and all that. We're more than friends, I think. But I'm not quite ready just yet to plunge head-first into a relationship without first looking where I'm going. I did that with Alterio, and look where it got me. Never again. I'm watching, keeping my eyes open. Maybe this time, the guy won't die, or diappear, or be sleeping with someone else the whole time we're together, eh? Wishful thinking, but I've always been an optimist.

~she closes the book and shoves it under her pillows again, scrambling off the bed, not bothering to make it. She stumbles to the wardrobe, and changes into a fresh loincloth and undershirt...she catches her reflection in the mirror and squints...she sees curves she never noticed before...she scowls. "Dammit! Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse!" Furious, she drags on a very loose cotton shirt, and a pair of breeches, and storms out of the room~

--Journal entry 15 August, Jane Maichen