Plurk paste

1.
Ripping out the pages won't make this right. I'll be honest - I fucked up. I fucked up big time and now [scribbled out]
Okay. It's been a few days, I think I can write about what happened without turning into a blubbering, cursing mess. And I will write about what happened, just so I never forget it.
The night Charlie went off to Hurricane, I started bitching about Afton out loud. I know he's the murderer, I know he killed my nephew, but I have no fucking proof and never did. Mab was listening a little too closely, now that I think about it. Hindsight's better than my eyes, that's for sure.
Mab cast the curse while I was asleep (think she slipped a sedative into my tea!) The one person Afton has a connection with (blech) will be the one to kill him, that's what she said. The idea of that greasy dirtbag being connected to anyone makes me nauseous, but [scribbled out]. Anyway, the curse hit true.
Better part of a week later, Charlie came home with what she thought was a cold or food poisoning, and quite the story to tell besides. Seems Afton's health went to hell, good riddance, and now he's dead. Charlie pulled the spring locks on that sick [illegible.] Needless to say, I banished Mab and alerted her dimension's authorities about what she did. I would've done it anyway, but she knew the whole time, the sadist. She knew when she cast the curse. She knew.
Got off track. Anyway, Pytha's my familiar now. She's been understanding of this whole mess, good friend that she is. She's an oracle for sure, and maybe her being cryptic pisses me off sometimes, but she's not cruel and that means a lot right now. Brought a potion of curse removal with her because she 'knew she'd need it'. It's a small vial, but it'll be enough. Into the water it goes. Hopefully the cough syrup will disguise the taste. Pytha said a normal human or unawakened witch wouldn't be able to taste it. I say I've got my own theories on how she and that pipe got the drop on that paranoid bastard.
2.
I was right, though it doesn't make me happy. Charlie said the water tasted funny, I told her I'd check the pipes. She didn't drink much of it, but Pytha tells me it was enough. The backlash and the curse should be out of her system in the morning.
This means she's definitely inherited, though, and it'll be her next birthday when she
It still hurts to think about it. I've only got one year left with her. All I can do now is - I don't know what to do now. I won't be able to stay and see her through it, just like Mom couldn't see me through it. Two witches living in the same building means the stronger bastards start turning up, everyone knows that. It's never a blessing to stay.
Guess I'd better get the mortgage paid off.
3.
Pytha's been hinting I might want to load a geas or two onto the circle. Preferably ones that will keep Charlie's incoming familiar from betraying her, hurting or killing her, and from hurting normal humans.
So, it's gonna be a dangerous bastard, and one with no conscience. Strong, too, to get Pytha all cryptic on me. (Power surge during the summoning, maybe?? Those always leave you feeling like crap in the morning. Better make sure there's hot chocolate mix in the house.)
Anyway, I'll get it done.
4.
Just figured it out. Pytha is laughing. I suppose it's best that she's mischievous instead of straight up evil. Still, I can't approve of this. Discussion in the morning: any chances of Charlie not calling back a murderous jackass?
5.
The answer was a resounding nope. Not in this timeline, Pytha says. Probably best to blame Mab after her BS. Going to get those binding spells in place as soon as Charlie heads out.
Final Note.
I'm returning to this journal because Pytha brought it to my attention that someone may very well decide to snoop.
Hello, William, you psychotic son of a bitch. I hope your death was a deeply painful one.
I will admit I'm surprised that you could see the supernatural at the end there. Maybe you were just that crazy? Then again, it might've just been the concussion. You were wrong about the kids, by the way. Charlie told me you thought they were happy. You saw grimaces of pain and fear as grins of joy, you sick fuck.
Unfortunately for everyone, you were right about Charlie, and that's why you're reading this right now.
The moment you turned to this page, you were hit with several geasa - that's a fancy way of saying "magically enforced command that will hurt you if you break it." They're there to keep you from continuing your bullshit. Picking up this diary hit you with another one: you can't tell Charlie about the diary or its contents. Your voice will fail if you try to say anything, and your fingers will slip if you try to write or type anything. I'm not giving you any ammo or any quarter.
The other geasa keep you from hurting Charlie or trying to kill her. Just so you know, if the summoner dies, the summoned is banished back to whatever hell they came from, no exceptions. Still, I don't expect you to actively try to protect her, seeing as you don't give a flying fuck about anyone other than yourself. So I'm limiting the harm you can do instead.
Consider it your pound of flesh for what you've done to my family. It's not nearly enough of a punishment, of course, but it's better than nothing.
- Jen.
PS- Oh yeah, you also can't hurt mundanes. Won't even be able to touch them, your filthy hands will just go right through. That's not my doing, it's a general rule. Children count as mundanes, incidentally. Have fun, asshole.