Back to HQ, just now. It was a bit of a drive from Canada, and I want to go in search of a sandwich and watch episodes of terrible sitcoms and relax— but I need to jot things down before I forget. I didn’t get much of a chance to do so while we were up in Montreal, but I need to remember to do this.
Alpha: still worried about what’s up with her. She’s still extraordinarily helpful though.
Changelings: operate in courts with kings. Knew this from Miami; confirmed in Montreal.
Changelings: run the city of Montreal. LOTS of rules, most unspoken.
Cheiron: has fingers in many, many pies.
Cheiron: uses a combination of scientific and supernatural techniques in the name of “science”.
Cheiron: the beast that attacked us had a built-in fail-safe (cyanide).
Cheiron: experiments on the lost-and-forgotten people they can find (e.g. our vagrant fiend).
Hunters: Alice Wheeler. Nice girl. A lot like her dad.
Hunters: Mad science funded by sketchy science corporations can create slashers.
Hunters: Slashers can acquire supernatural abilities.
Mr. M: the Horus symbol is used for surveillance.
Mr. M: took an interest in one of Cheiron’s scientists. Got him to believe the 2012 story.
Phone: has some seriously high-tech gadgets. Must investigate further.
Sorcery: M’s sigils, if all of the lines are broken, will stop working.
Survival Project: ongoing, and much bigger than initially thought.
Hope I didn’t forget anything.
I need to send Regan a letter. Lots to catch up on. But I have some research to do first— the info he requested on the witch-hunters and Lucifuge. I have so many other things to ask MoTHeR, too. I need to get better at computer research, though. Maybe Dylan can help. I should really call Alpha, too. Just to say hi. In the meantime, I’m really hoping the Road will consider putting a climbing wall in the gym. I’m getting rusty, and I’d really like to have something physical to focus on again. The shooting range is great and all, but it’s just not the same as climbing. That and practicing is less fun when I get shown up by our very own gun bunny or I get driven out by that trigger-happy asshole in the other cell we’ve seen around.
Hell, I’m so tired. It’s good to be back to the closest thing to home I’ve got right now.