Letter Seven! {and an update}

So. Hello. How are you? Miss me?

Guess what!! Remember my laptop? The beautious thing that my uncle got for me for a Christmas/Graduation pressie?

I had to send it in to be fixed because it was overheating and the fan ran loudly all the time, and it had taken to turning off on its own. Which is.... you know.... a problem. So I wanted to send it in to get fixed before the warranty ran out.

So I have no 'puter at the moment.

Let us take a moment of silence for the absence of a dear friend. *bows head*

 

 

 

Alright, so you all see how I feel about my missing laptop. It's a tragedy, really it is. It's so sad.

 

 

AND seeing as I have no laptop on which to write blog posts and do other nerdy internet things, I have been using my dad's computer. Which is why my commenting on other people's blogs with be.... less now. Sniffle. You're so sad about that. I know you are. Hehehe.

 

Anyway, I thought I'd clear that up.

 

 

SO! I shall now proceed to let you read the next installment of the letter game. (The first of which, you can find on the letter game page on the right.) This was written by Amy as Peggy to me as Joan.

 

Cheers and God bless!

 

 

 



 

From: Miss Peggy Douglas To: Miss Joan MacTavish December 14th, 1924 Dear Joan. Thank you for your concern, but I’ve decided not to let your father, or mine for that matter, know about the bomb. My Father would worry so much, and I’d rather not drag you father into this. Don’t get me wrong, your father is wonderful—almost an Uncle to me—but you know as well as I do that he’d probably assign me a body-guard and that is too awkward for words. I will not be followed around for the unforeseeable future even if it is for my own safety. And you should know me well enough, Joan, to remember that I always carry my pistol with me. Mother was quite insistent on that point. But honestly, I don’t see what on earth that would do for me. I mean, I can shoot decently, but that doesn’t do me much good against an assassin. But never mind about that. Sean has been ‘detecting’, as he says, and so far has told me nothing. I don’t know if he just hasn’t come up with anything or if is just very guarded about how he does his job. It’s frustrating, though. He stops by at least twice a week to let me know he is still on the case, and to make sure his safety spell is still on. Oh yes, he came over shortly after I hired him and put a spell on the flat for me. He says he can’t have his clients die while he’s working a case. Apparently that sort of publicity is very bad for business. I wonder why? Thank you for doing a little research on him for me. I did some of my own, but I don’t have the resources you do and it does make me feel better to know that he is upstanding. Still, he is without doubt one of the most annoying people I’ve ever had to deal with. I’ve come close to firing him at least three times and I’ve only been acquainted with him for three weeks…slightly less, even! He’s just so—ooooh! He’s so, smart! I mean, I’m not all that dim myself, but when I’m around him, I feel like a nitwit! No matter what I say, he has a cleaver repartee to toss back, turning my words into dithering’s. I can’t stand that. But the more clever I try to get, the more he outdoes me. It is ever so vexatious. I pray he solves the matter soon, as I am beginning to feel warn thin. I won’t bore you with the details of work. Let’s just say that I am losing patience with humanity in general. People are rude, always in a rush, and never tip well. I want to strangle someone. A little part of me wonders what Mother would say to all this. She was always so convinced that I would follow in her footsteps. Funny how life makes its own decisions, isn’t it? Well, quite enough about me. Dominic sounds like a real bother. I am sorry that you are stuck working with him. One day you should let your left jab find its way to his nose. It might be good for him. Then again, I might not be the best person to take advice from right now. It is true, the whole city is abuzz with gossip about the King and his Board. People are afraid. If the Magicians gain control, the Philosophers will have no way to curb them or their control and the King will surely be dethroned. And still he does nothing? How could a man such as the King’s late father have produced such a weak son? He must put his foot down soon, and I pray that he does. The country wont be able to handle the unrest for much longer and I shudder to think of another civil war. Take care, my dear! And don’t worry about me. Nothing terrible has happened and I’m beginning to think that perhaps I over-reacted to the whole thing. And please don’t tell your father, or anyone, about that bomb. If word gets to my father he will definitely come rushing home and I can’t have that. He’s far too busy. I worry about him sometimes. I mean, with all the unrest in Parliament, being a Philosopher isn’t the safest of things. I don’t want him to be distracted. I will write you as soon as I know more about the bomb, who sent it and why. If, that is, I ever find those things out myself. I might strange Sean Stevens before he gets that far. Your friend, Peggy