I hope I made myself clear.


The following is a fic, written in log form, between Amelia Kross and her parents, Reinhold and Liesel, and occurs immediately following the preceding entry by Reinhold Kross.

( 'He will /hurt/ you one day, mark my words, and then where will you be?' )

OOC Note: This is an entry in the journal of Amelia's father, Reinhold Kross.

That's what the bastard gets.

I can't believe Amelia comforted him. The little rat deserved what he got.

Liesel wasn't happy.


...
The following written several hours later, but set before the following entry.

Maybe I've been too harsh. She does seem to truly care for him.

Bollocks.


( Log is here. )

He struck me.

Buck came home stinking of alcohol and cannabis, and he struck me.

Was he out all night? What has gotten into him?

His father said he wanted to "do him over." I can't believe he would even say such a thing. I don't even know if he means it half the ti--

God.

I'm going to have a long, long talk with him later. Both of them.


( Log is here. )

OOC Note: This is an entry in the journal of Amelia's father, Reinhold Kross.

He thinks he can soften Amelia up enough to speak with me.

He's been living with her how long now?


( Log is here. )

My husband came home bleeding.

My son is gay.

My father is the cause of the first and aware of the second.

What's it like to have a normal, calm life?


( 'But /apparently/ Holdiekins ran his mouth off about Brandon being a pansy-arse little cock-jockey! No one in your family has any /tact/!' (Alexander, Brandon) )

OOC Note: This is an entry in the journal of Amelia's father, Reinhold Kross.

Son of a bitch.

He dislocated my knee. My bad knee. I suppose I should just be thankful he didn't screw up the other one as badly as this one. Little bastard. I still don't know how Amelia can possibly stand him, much less live with him. If Liesel hadn't stopped us both, I may well have killed him. And the little tit bled all over me as well. I hope Amelia gives him as much of a verbal lashing as I gave him physically. Or more. That's one small regret: not being able to see her tear into him for being a right moron. Ruddy little bastard.

And to top it all off, I doubt Brandon will even speak to me again. The boy shouldn't blame me for his sexual preferences, nor his father. I was just bringing up the truth. If he has such an issue with it--

Bah. Ruddy Brent. He's ruined my family. Tit.


( 'He's - /Christ in a a bucket/, man, he's an idiot teenager! Weren't you ever one of those?' (Alexander, Brandon) )

...



I think I've been staring at this page for ten minutes now.

Caught thieving by a whore. What next, honestly?

Muffins. They won't be getting any muffins from me.


( Log is here. )

OOC Note: This is an entry in the journal of Amelia's father, Reinhold Kross.

What a ruddy little brat. And he wonders why I dislike him.

Twenty years and a visit from him is the first word I hear of my daughter but from Liesel.

At least I got to turn the hose on him.


( Log is here. )

Mother of god Good grief, Alex.

First he attempts to steal from my handbag in broad daylight, and then he makes our son faint.

Fred is a sweet girl. I would have no objections to having her over for dinner, now I know her.

God, poor Brandon. What a way for him to find out.

Alex is always so damned cheery about the most inappropriate things.


( Logs are here. )

Someone from the Inquisition came in. I don't want to know what hurt him, or how.

Brandon has got to learn to watch his mouth, especially--especially--around people like that. God. I don't think I've ever been this angry with him.

And Alexander is no help at all. Goddamnit.

I nearly left. I think I scared myself for a moment there.

Alex hasn't come back yet. He will, I'm sure. I just don't know if it will be tonight.

Sometimes I don't think he has any respect for me.

Jesus. Why does he have to act like such a bastard sometimes?


( Log 1 is here. )

( Log 2 is here. )

Can't he think of others for once?

Me included.

I'm terrified. I honestly am. Tetrodotoxin. Zombieism. Necromancy.

I hope they catch this madman soon.


He also talked about that slaver. And the girl who kept him from beating Alex.

I don't want him letting anyone--anyone--know he can change. It's just too dangerous.

More dangerous than madmen with fish poison.

God, Alex, I love you. Be safe.


( Log is here. )

A horrible man came into the shop today.

I hope his stomach gets better, but I also hope he doesn't come back.

That woman from before -- the one who had the run-in with Alex -- wanted advice on setting up a shop. Shame Alex is the one who knows more about it than I do. I told her to come back, but I doubt she will. It's dangerous enough at night these days, and I doubt she wants to deal with Alex anymore than necessary anyway.

Poor Eric. I hope his nerves will be alright.


( Log is here. )

He came home bleeding.

They don't just let people go, do they?

He wants a piano.

And to go dancing.

I'd like to go dancing.

Maybe this will just... go away.


( Log is here. )

He's back. He's back.

This has been the longest two weeks of my life.

I am so, so glad he's back home.

Alex is a bigger softie than he'll let on. I love them both so much.


( 'Love you too, Mum.' (Brandon, Ilse) )


( The Alexander/Brandon log that fits between these scenes is here. )


( 'I had no idea you talked to Carcer, dear. I've been in something of a fog recently, you know.' (Brandon, Alexander) )

My boy.

My son.

My baby.

Alex Alexander I can't Alex Damnit.


( 'I hope we're not going to see any more /commission/ friends, Broken Condom.' (Alexander, Brandon, Nobara) )


( 'I told you to get the fuck out of my way.' (Alexander, Brandon) )

It's been an... odd day.

A friendly gentleman with /hooves/, and a catlike, redheaded girl speaking in rhyme.

And from these exchanges, I gain a boon to my (apparent!) reputation, and a vial of extremely curious brown powder.

I think I should like to have these odd days more often.


( 'Considering the atmosphere of this city, you're as much an anomaly as I am.' (Isaire) )


OOC Note: Much as it might not seem it, the following is pertinent to the Ripper TP.

( 'Jack and Sam see funny man, make sparkled flying ice. Shiny thing he left behind when the scene he flies.' (Alexander, Sam) )
Amelia picks up a red-headed stalker. ...And a certain vial of brown powder.

I suppose I won't be getting as much sleep as I had planned tonight.

Malaria.

It will take hours to produce that much Sweet Annie. Not to mention properly brewing the potion from it.

How on earth could that poor child have gotten--?

And burns. Burns severe enough to require more than one treatment.

I don't want to think--

But what else could it have been?


( 'I can't explain, and I can't handle it by myself. / Please/- can you come?' (Stheno, NPC Monica) )

One day I will kill him for making me worry.

In the meantime?

It's so much fun when I can toy with him for once.

( Log is here. )

((The following page is considerably wrinkled at the top-left corner, as though gripped very hard during use. A few circular ruin-spots and ink smears suggest that something wet was dripped onto the sheet. Many lines are scratched out with repeated, violent strokes.)

He just I don't Is it so hard to I don't want to know what would have happened if I'd been any later to tea. Sometimes I think he does all this just to make me worry Apparently it's a great fucking burden to ask him to treat our son like a human being

Brandon's been doing tattoos. Good for him. I always thought he had something of an eye for art. He has a tidy hand, and he dresses with at least a bit more taste than most of the teenagers I see tearing up and down the streets these days. I do worry about the sorts of people such a profession will bring him in contact with, but it's at least more socially appropriate than what his father does I trust his judgment. He'll be fine. He's been fine so far.

I don't know whether to be angrier at the man who beat him up or at Alex. I don't doubt he brought half of this mess on himself

I hope I never see this Cusick man again. I don't think I'll be able to stop myself from doing something rash. No one touches my family Even an ass like Alex can't have brought such a beating down on himself. I don't doubt there was provocation Alex doesn't usually hit first, and I don't think he did this time.

I hope he'll have the brains to stay indoors with his leg done up like it is. He's not the brightest He doesn't have the best judgment.

Bloody Goddamnit, Alex.


( Log is here. )