I really don't know who 'they' are, but sometimes I really want to wring their collective necks. Things do change, but people stay the same... if we're lucky.
My nine year old daughter was working on a project for school and trying to understand why her uncle Nate was so solemn on 'Shutdown Day'. She's older now, and when I talk about the Archology and the black out she understands more, but she's always had more of what Case calls the 'cop' mentality than my 'medic' brain.
I triage and treat, Case protects and serves and part of protecting is trying to prevent things from happening.
To help her understand I handed her my journals. Big mistake. First off, she did not like being called 'the terror' and secondly... I'd stopped writing after the blackout. That left a 6 year gap in my story.
She knew most of it, I mean she was already remembering things when the blackout hit. The blackout hadn't been bad, but the aftermath... I learned first hand what a magically induced stroke feels like, I endured 3 months of physical therapy before a mage was found who could undo what had been done.
By then I'd fallen out of the habit of writing, and the next big crisis hit. This one didn't just hit close to home, it hit home-- and me... I ended up in a combination of protective custody (yeah we all know how well that works) and a kindly exile into the witness protection program... but who needs the witness protection program when the people on Council Island view you as one of their own?
Ethan has started college. It's as if everything has changed, and yet everything is indeed the same.
Well, maybe not, the new year is upon us and so are the changes... Bri, this one's for you.