Home from Wyndsor

I walk the halls of my humble haven. Its warmth and familiarity instills a certain sense of of security. I hear the muffled clash of metal on metal in the neighboring room and my mind begins to wander. What unmoving foe must Sir Jonathan Finch be facing off against tonight? Hes growing incredibly potent. I am often amazed at how remarkable his progress with his craft has progressed.

Ive recently returned from my trip to Windsor Ontario. I must say it was a rather fruitful venture out into the unknown. I touched based with my muse... the cacophony of kindred society. I feel a sense of comfort to be around them all, observing the nuances of their requiem... the nervousness in their voice when they are introduced to a superior predator, the danse macabre.
Elena's return, albeit brief was surreal. I saw in her eyes the fury only a woman can muster. It was both frightening and disturbing. It was the first time I ever wanted to abandon her. She was not Elena. Elena was dead.
I observed a great deal of anxiety regarding the Straega, Strix, Stirge or however you choose to acknowledge them. I saw chaos envelop our gathering firsthand and felt the spark of many beasts simultaneously rise in more kindred than I have ever experienced. Powerful Kindred. Degenerate Kindred. My close friends and allies were not left unscathed. And yet, through it all I felt detached, as if the world for just one moment lost its luster, and the sounds of a thousand voices were suddenly impossibly mute. I fear for what Ive become. What Ive done to myself.
I feel within me the pangs of humanity, though what does it all serve me if I have become so numb to the ebbs and flows of fate that I no longer feel my own identity. I witnessed my dead Aunt Elena transform into my unliving Aunt Makenzie and spout off prophecy... and through it all my heart did not skip a beat.

I have returned home to find that the city has returned to bad habits. Father Cade, Master Santiago, and Sunshine decided to let thier whims rule over reason and impoded in upon themselves. I am ashamed of them all. My gut reaction is to humilate them. To make them regret ever daring to resort to these antics. I tempt myself by giving in to my inner demons, but I beleive this is a case where I do our collective a greater disservice in remaining controlled. I fear for them.