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Humeur actuelle

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angry

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That salope. Yesterday in the prefects' office she said they were innocent, but I saw them together, before they went in to go teach the sixth-formers' class. She was walking arm-in-arm with him, with Rosenthal, and they looked so happy. If they're not lovers, it's only for lack of opportunity. I could speak to Maîtresse, ask Her to turn that love sour...but what would it cost me? And haven't I already paid enough? Horace says I'm being stupid. That the only way to get past this is to be better than she is. But I can't look at her and think about all of the girls who died. And there she is, and she hasn't a care in the world. It makes me want to go and spit in her face, and ask him if he knows what she was doing there, after he left her behind.

Anton Rasputin has the same name as Peter Rasputin. And he looks at me exactly the same way that Peter Rasputin looked at us all, even her. Maybe even especially her. I don't need any of this right now. If one of us had to come here, why couldn't it have been Violette?

Horace does not understand, and he thinks I'm with Aurélien, and I don't know how to tell him I'm not, that it's nothing like that. It's just that Aurélien knows how I feel, and he doesn't. Yes, Virgil is dead, but Virgil died over there, and he didn't see it, he didn't see what I've seen. I don't want Horace to know what I know. I just don't know what to tell him when he asks me about it. I don't understand how she can have left it behind, just because Rosenthal's here. And I hate her more every time I see her, every time I hear her laugh. I don't believe for a minute that she has forgiven me, either; that isn't her way. She can be very vindictive. Everyone who knew her at lycée knew that. Especially her friends.

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angry

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I thought the bitch was dead, damn it.

She hurt my brother. She sold herself out and the rest of us too and she never looked back. I know what she says. She had something she was working on, she had to keep it secret, and Albrecht von Thorwald kept them from sending her to Transylvania anyway, because he was dumb enough to believe she didn't write those papers, or maybe dumb enough to believe she did and not care, I don't know, I don't want to know how they think. She never thought about it, about how what she did set some kind of precedent, about how she was the first. And now she wants us to think she did it for Rosenthal? Of course, because everything in that bitch's life was always all about Rosenthal. Violette saw that long before I did.

Maybe I do believe that story.

And this trash about gates that Casaubon and Lovelace were going on and on about? Who does she think she IS, Papa Legba? If the bitch is what Casaubon thinks she is, the bitch is going to be paying for that. I don't know anything about the numbers, not like she does, but I know this. You don't get something for nothing.

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Humeur actuelle

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disgusted

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Why are the boys here so disgusting? I hope Uncle Ozzer does contract me to Horace and I hope he does it soon. My breakfast this morning was completely ruined because one of Kiryakov’s SHOES fell into it. And of course I know exactly where he lost them. Thank God Horace and I didn’t go to that party.

At least Celerity Warrington and Alma Greengrass got it, too. Celerity even helped me clean myself up. She seems nicer this year than last. Then again last year she was utterly horrid.

Dimity said that if I went to Rasputin’s damn lessons—the ones her sister was supposed to be teaching—she’d sit with me and we could protect each other against the Arch-Pig. But I don’t know. I know everything I need to know about talking to the ancestors and anything I didn’t need to know I wouldn’t want to learn from the Transylvania people. They don’t have any respect for the dead, they just call them up and demand to know things. And they summon demons.

Anton Rasputin has been christened the Arch-Pig by Giselle Garnier, who normally wouldn’t say boo to a goose, and it’s utterly perfect. Rasputin has always made me uncomfortable but since Martius Starn and Fernando García are dead, it seems as though Rasputin’s decided to go for the title of Most Disgusting Man in Britannia. (Dimity says ever, but she’s never lived in occupied Armorica.) Horace says Baddock is just as bad, and he’d know, but Baddock at least doesn’t have any interest in ME.

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Humeur actuelle

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restless

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Tomorrow we go back to school. I enjoy staying here with Uncle Ozzer, but I do look forward to being with Dimity and Bella and Livy again even if we do have to put up with Celerity, Alma and Miranda. I am going to get serious about alchemy this year. I really loved it at Ker-Ys, my name is Saint-Germain after all, and I refuse to be driven away from it just because of Mathers. Maybe Nadya will help. I wish she was my friend, instead of just someone who puts up with us because we’re Dylan’s friends. If she would join forces with me and Dimity even once, Celerity and Alma and Miranda wouldn’t be half so annoying. But Nadya always has her nose in a book if she’s not actually in the laboratory. She should have been in Pelby.

I don’t know what to do about this invitation. I really don’t. On the one hand I did promise Uncle Ozzer and most importantly myself that I would be more serious this year about my education. But on the other hand, it’s Rasputin, and he looks at me like I’m a Crêpe Suzette. Horace and Reynard both say they’ll come with me if I go. Just like they say they’ll stay with me on the train. So I suppose it might be all right. Reynard knows what Peter Rasputin tried to do to me in Ker-Ys. I know he’s probably no relation, but I can’t help thinking about it. I do not ever want to be alone with Rasputin. I wish he weren’t a prefect because he can get into any room he wants. At least I’m not in a room by myself. But he scares me. He reminds me of Peter Rasputin, and Albrecht von Thorwald, and the awful thing that Juliana de Marigny became.

The way he looks at me and the things he says are just awful and he makes them sound polite most of the time but there’s always an edge in his voice and a look in his eyes and I know he means them. I’m going to make up some powders and charm bags tonight to keep him away. I trust Horace and Reynard…but if there was one thing I learned under the Occupation it’s that even the best big brother can’t protect you from everything.

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Humeur actuelle

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annoyed

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Sometimes I really hate boys. A lot. Not Horace, but...boys, and men, in general. Horace isn't old enough to go to the Hell-Fire Club yet, and neither am I. Supposedly there is a rule that no-one who goes to those meetings is ever supposed to talk about what happens outside of them. Supposedly this is a very important rule and the penalty for breaking it is quite serious.

So what I'd like to know is why do both Horace and I know, in exhaustive and frankly boring detail, what Dimity's older sister did at the meeting? Not to mention who.

That would be because we have two older brothers, his Virgil and my Reynard, and no, I absolutely will not try and get them dates with Dimity OR her sister.

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Humeur actuelle

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nostalgic

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Reynard has run off with his friends--no doubt he is looking for Ramsden Major, to make sure that he's still on the team, or Bartholomew Cross and James Warrington, to find out what he's missed politically over the summer.

It's so dreary today. It rained all night long last night. It will probably rain again tonight, but hopefully I will be with Horace. At least it isn't raining now.

Hopefully either Horace, or my girls, will be here with me soon...