Isa's Log
Feb 14, 2009 3:23:32 GMT -5
Post by Isa on Feb 14, 2009 3:23:32 GMT -5
Log 1: Saturday, February 14, 18--
I'm starting to think maybe I've gone insane, although I know I haven't.
Since arriving in Paris more than 5 years ago, torn from world war two, a war that here, has yet to even be imagined. I've realized that maybe where I was, outside of Normandy (in France), right before what was to become (from what I've heard) one of the biggest and most prolific battles of WW2. Where I was exactly was some sort of portal to this exact time period, and mine wasn't the only one.
I theorize that the world, throughout history, there are hundreds, possibly thousands of those portals, that rip people from their homes, offices, etc to here.
Paris, circa 1800.
Where the largest hospital is in an opera house (which is the center for these portals) and this hospital is thoroughly modern, more modern than where I come from.
Where planes and dirigibles cross paths and people with strange colored hair and magic powers meet with werewolves and vampires on the streets.
And never bat an eyelash.
No one here wants to admit it, no one here cares to pay attention, until it's too late.
Until they've found themselves in an alley and filed under cold case. Until they've been bitten or raped or deformed. Until it's too late.
I've seen more here than even in my worst nightmares and I've been lucky so far. Only once has my home been broken in to and only once have I run in with something immortal and he gave me a wad of cash to take care of a boy he hurt.
I know this place isn't what it advertises, that the city of love and lights is dark place indeed.
I've been reading and reading and reading until my eyes go cross and my minds shuts down from the amount of information I've pumped in to my brain. I'm reading because I have to know why these things happen to these people. Why even if we age, it never truly hits 1900. Why we have x-ray machines and our ambulance is a horse drawn carriage.
Why in my house I have no electricity but an ice box that runs just fine.
-Isa Handle
P.S. Ever read the Phantom of the Opera? Yea it's kind of like that... but with steam.
I'm starting to think maybe I've gone insane, although I know I haven't.
Since arriving in Paris more than 5 years ago, torn from world war two, a war that here, has yet to even be imagined. I've realized that maybe where I was, outside of Normandy (in France), right before what was to become (from what I've heard) one of the biggest and most prolific battles of WW2. Where I was exactly was some sort of portal to this exact time period, and mine wasn't the only one.
I theorize that the world, throughout history, there are hundreds, possibly thousands of those portals, that rip people from their homes, offices, etc to here.
Paris, circa 1800.
Where the largest hospital is in an opera house (which is the center for these portals) and this hospital is thoroughly modern, more modern than where I come from.
Where planes and dirigibles cross paths and people with strange colored hair and magic powers meet with werewolves and vampires on the streets.
And never bat an eyelash.
No one here wants to admit it, no one here cares to pay attention, until it's too late.
Until they've found themselves in an alley and filed under cold case. Until they've been bitten or raped or deformed. Until it's too late.
I've seen more here than even in my worst nightmares and I've been lucky so far. Only once has my home been broken in to and only once have I run in with something immortal and he gave me a wad of cash to take care of a boy he hurt.
I know this place isn't what it advertises, that the city of love and lights is dark place indeed.
I've been reading and reading and reading until my eyes go cross and my minds shuts down from the amount of information I've pumped in to my brain. I'm reading because I have to know why these things happen to these people. Why even if we age, it never truly hits 1900. Why we have x-ray machines and our ambulance is a horse drawn carriage.
Why in my house I have no electricity but an ice box that runs just fine.
-Isa Handle
P.S. Ever read the Phantom of the Opera? Yea it's kind of like that... but with steam.