So last afternoon was an adventure. A terrifying, not allowed to talk about it with -anyone-, risked my life without realizing it, might still get me in trouble kind of adventure. I just couldn’t bring myself to just ignore that Blackbird, Dreamboat and Alrose were off in some crypt. If Ely hadn’t told me that Blackbird had gotten hurt standing in the way of a fight just yesterday I might not have been so stupid myself but the man is utterly selfless to the point of self destruction and while it is one of his most endearing qualities its also the one that frightens me the most, that he’d fight until his last breath it meant he could spare someone else pain. I was in over my head the moment I arrived and coward that I am was little to no help until we were running for our lives. Sometimes there’s an advantage to being scrawny and being able to fit through narrow passages.  Blackbird keeps very interesting company and even as Dreamboat enacted the Ceremony to knight him they were rather insistent that I make myself useful in some way.  Talk about awkward first kisses, not that I’m shy in front of an audience normally, but I had never thought that was how it’d be. Even still he tasted of steel and sweet... a bit of salt from the fight, and yet all of it was every bit the Blackbird I had imagined.  I hope next time it’s more on our terms. Afterwards things were less insane for at least a while I got to lean against Blackbird for most of the time we listened to his fellow Carnies play. Turns out there’s a lot more stress in the world of running a circus and the strap I had made for him managed to get him through a little of it.  Does anyone ever take care of you Blackbird? It was almost enough to make me consider staying all the way through the evening, but I still owed Bombshell some time. Things turned bad then. Harmony was plastered and devastated so I made my best efforts of an excuse and nearly simultaneously Blackbird had been pushed to his limit with his recruits. He walked off and I started calling in favors to see if we could get help recovering Harmony’s beloved... Its madness to think that someone like Gavir would just up and vanish. Bombshell and Miss Pepper came through and I clearly owe the Thane for this one, despite what he says. I managed to check in with Blackbird after, and I hope the Patroness of The Ambrose Arcana returned his stress has ebbed some, he needs to remember the actions of others aren’t his responsibility. I know his heart is in the right place he cares more than safe to keep that heart intact.  At the very least I can tell Harmony that Gavir yet lives: none of the ascended have been called to retrieve his soul, I regret only that is all I could offer. Common thread I guess: I couldn’t have hoped to help Blackbird in his battle, nor could I help track down Harmony’s beloved... Best I could offer is a few songs to make their hardest days have a melody to accompany them. I’ll just keep concentrating on the taste of sweet, steel, the scent of rosewood and linen, and the sight of hair like midnight black within it the thousand colors of light.

If you asked me which songs I played today I’m not sure I could really tell you. I know that my Honey-Haired Dreamboat played his set and did me proud as Thero’Shan. I know that Snowball was finally out and about letter in hand and smile back on his features, they even called him a bard while he played. I know now Mun-Li has a sister And Tyra still loves shanties, and that Starlight should probably not mix drinking and malice... But I also now know that a Blackbird sings a song that echoes my own. That his blue-black mane still tempts fingers to comb through and still manages to make me question how much trouble I’m willing to get him into. He even has a song for -me- which many before him have done: but his sees through me in ways I’m never prepared for. He’d said he was going to steal my method of learning favorites and understanding his audience’s leitmotifs for what they are: the tether that binds us to each listening ear. Blackbird’s singing in the dead of night indeed. Citrus, spice, a cascade of flavors that I’d imagined and yet never grasped, not truly. For as vivid as my imagination is, no justice was done. My world awash with impulse and want and a craving pulling at every thread and fiber of my being. I thought once would be an unraveling that would render me uselessly and helplessly victim to the Siren’s Song... It didn’t happen like that, and in that moment I wished I’d had a tangle of silk, if for no other reason for the privilege of untangling it afterwards. Almost as satisfying as tying and lacing back up... -Almost-. 21,900 days is a long fucking time... can’t blame me for looking for amendments and a way to get out on good behavior.