Sunday, June 17, 2007

Recovery Time

I am well enough now to put pen to paper. Reading back through these pages I must praise myself for chronicling events leading to today. I may have dressed like a tradesman but it appears I had some form of head on my shoulders.

The past few days I have drank chi tea and been at the good grace of little Lette and young Terrance. They have cared for me admirably, as only true friends could, and I can not praise them highly enough for their kind support and companionship.

And so to Sen. I have yet to speak to my old friend and I believe in the sanctuary of her TARDIS she will be recovered. Her bond with her craft can be nothing other than stabilising and for now we are safe. Things got a tad confusing Thursday last, and I must speak with her in person before we go off half cocked in this matter. Was she possessed? She certainly seemed to come round, yet apparently attacked me. Has a timeless poison lay dormant in her veins all this time? I must look in her eyes and hear her voice and prey we were all mistaken.

During the process the power from The Eye was most assuredly diverted. If it had not been for this unforeseen event Sen would not have needed to expend energy and help me as she did. She must have drained herself most terribly in doing this. Our old adversary, whom ever that may be, was watching us.

Drillon came to see me. I could see his thoughts in his eyes. "You look old" they said. He's right, I do. That said, praise be, I do not feel old. I feel somewhat rejuvenated. I feel sharp and clean, and while not yet fit enough to be walking abroad I'm confident this regeneration has been an outstanding success. My mind is alive with possibilities. A success, but at what price remains to be seen.

I will amuse myself here on an old project. Test this new mind and these old hands. For a long time now I have been meaning to create for myself a tool suitable for my lifestyle here. Something subtle and appropriate to the period. Something Sen does not know about.

I have lists my friends made me of how I was. I remember, but it is no longer me. Some things I don't remember, but most are obvious. After all, Miss. Begonia, it is only common sense to take a banana to a party.

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