⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⋆﹏𓊝﹏⋆⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Captain's Log ----------- #journal #viewed-oocly #inperson #narration #teatime (Omnipotent / Seer muses like Scratch may potentially read it) ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⋆﹏𓊝﹏⋆⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ~ On the 29th ~ ------ Even the Midnight Crew cannot 8e trusted to stay on the enemy side of the Felt, perched 8eside their foes while a so8er host drowns them with drink. It would not surprise me to learn that their coffers have 8een emptied and the coordin8tes of their oper8tions compromised. Honour is a stranger here; no one will name an adversary without turning the encounter into a message of attraction. I arrived at the venue only after my m8tesprit inspired me to attend, pointing out the opportunity to pilfer from their ranks instead of 8ecoming one of his putrid guests. His underestim8tion of me was, in hindsight inevita8le, and when he dispatched his lesser goons to my loc8tion inside his study, I was already prepared with an escape route. It is a shame I never had the chance to converse with the woman cloaked in 8lack starlight. From his former Ms. Eight to his newly‑appointed Ms. Eight—8oth would have made for interesting convers8tion, or 8attle. I have yet to decide which would have occurred. Nevertheless, I came 8earing spoils. The portrait that hung over his mantle still mocked the memory of my fleet reduced to ash, which I removed. When he pretended it a “gift” to me, I knew the time had come to erase that faceless smugness once and for all. There was little time to fill the chest; these men can vanish at a whim, or so the Handmaid of my youth recounted tales of her co-workers to the young girl I once was. I wonder how she fares now, and whether I ought to act. While everyone else 8ends the knee to those green jesters, even those I once 8elieved were allies, I am 8eginning to suspect that perhaps it has solely 8een I who can set her free of her master.
