you magnificent fuck up
02 December 2009 @ 04:50 am
[log] both your friend and your enemy think you will never die  
The crisp cold air in Arum gives way to the more temperate nexus, and Martel loosens his cloak as he walks further away from the portal - habitually, as if this is something that he does quite often, because it is. The nexus has become a routine the way he knows just about anything can become routine, and he uses it for recreation and for business and for self-indulgence and for all sorts of things that are alternately useful or logically pointless. His opinion of the place changes daily, but tends to baseline at 'tolerant'; today he's not really thinking about it, going about his business unremarkable and unremarked on.

In the nexus there are any number of places he could be found, for any number of reasons. As he makes his way through the semi-Elene market that he's been frequenting for months without bothering to mention this slice of his homeland to anyone else (even the precious few Elenes who pass through, who have enough without taking this from him, too), he knows that if he's needed at the castle he's not impossible to find. Unfortunately, he's not impossible to find for anyone else, either, unconcerned as he is.

He's probably not anticipating being interrupted as he disagrees with a vendor about the worth of these pieces, and where they came from in the first place.
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you magnificent fuck up
02 November 2009 @ 10:56 pm
[log] everyone i know goes away in the end  
The week or so following his foray into spellcrafting on the fly is quiet - at least for Martel himself. Classifying his workload as 'quiet' is probably a matter of perspective, but it's a familiar hassle and one that most days he even enjoys. Nevertheless, if he wants to fine-tune anything out of what he pulled together for Hasibe he needs a bit of time not spent knocking heads together, not to mention the fact he doesn't have here at the castle all of the texts he's particularly interested in while he frames his notes into something more coherent than 'BY GOD I AM UTTERLY BRILLIANT'.

(Accurate, but lacking a certain something professionally.)

The long and the short of it is that when he finishes for the day, he intends to spend the rest of the evening and further working at the nexus library - and he is presently kneeling in the stacks in the section devoted to the development of new Styric spells as influenced by cooperation with the church of Chyrellos. It's going to be a very long night.
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you magnificent fuck up
15 October 2009 @ 04:37 pm
[log] i wish i had the blind faith of an atheist  
Not once, but twice; there is something disconcerting about reliving that particular moment all over again, not quite able to disconnect himself from these men who might very well come from different worlds entirely. They look at him the same way - with rightful suspicion and outright shock, like they've seen a ghost put to rest and he's tearing open old wounds, like he always would - and it feels the same, like a lifetime ago wasn't long enough.

(It wasn't; it was little more than a year.)

The situation, Martel has decided, calls for a drink and a friendship one has to be this twisted in the first place just to fall into. He tells Candice, first, being not entirely a fool, and sends warning ahead to the castle to see if he's welcome enough to drop by.
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you magnificent fuck up
09 October 2009 @ 11:13 pm
[log] worth noting that i also have a lot of pictures of people who haven't been murdered  
The first time the notion came up in any sort of seriousness was months ago, when Master Snape went missing (and later turned up, hale and hearty as ever - which is to say, not very). He'd had to go to Grif in order to find someone who could manage with this technological bullshit, and while ultimately it had still been pointless, the fact remained that it would be to Martel's benefit to have someone around who knew what in God's name they were doing around these things.

And has remained.

And remained.

And continued to be ignored.

And so on, and so forth - until the purchase of the house in Savannah was finalized, and then it became somewhat more necessary as well as practical. Martel found himself an enterprising young gentleman to keep track of whatever he needed keeping track of, paid him well and- has largely ignored him and his work. If we're honest. Ewar keeps better track of the dutiful weekly reports than Martel does, but Ewar enjoys responsibility (not to mention opportunities to learn) and Martel enjoys delegation (not to mention time for his priorities), so it works out neatly for all involved.

Speaking of those dutiful reports, though, this one is slightly more interesting.

He adds it to the assorted orders that become 'Ewar's problem' (tell him to find out who it was, will you?) and is not expecting much of interest to come of it when he gets back, a few days later, a name.

'Tom'.

"Oh, for God's sake," he mutters, faintly amused. It's a good thing he was on his way into the nexus already.
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you magnificent fuck up
22 December 2008 @ 05:30 am
[log] i have so much rage. just waiting for someone to wrong me.  
While there are a lot of things in the world that Martel prioritizes above modern technology, and especially above 'disliking modern technology' - at the end of the day he's really not fond of it. He can't help it; he's a man of his era, and it'll be a long time before he's quite comfortable in Candice's world or with the trappings of it. It's a nuisance, now, that ignorance; when magical means of tracing the source of Severus's transmission fail him, he's left frustrated and without the knowledge to try something else.

Or the inclination to use the phone himself, also, but one way or another he does manage to get a hold of Grif, to meet him and see if he can't do something with the damn thing.
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you magnificent fuck up
30 September 2008 @ 01:17 am
[log] you act like you’re hip to their tricks and you're strong  

The past few weeks have been, for Martel...an interesting time. Today, though, today isn't very interesting. (Yet.) Today is mostly quiet; he's been occupying himself with finalizing his staff (as it'll stand for a time - it's more than likely he'll need to expand later, but for now he thinks he has everyone he needs sorted out), and now he's escaped the lot of them for his favourite pastime.

That would be: avoiding Ewar's near-supernatural ability to find him anywhere in the castle by taking his books and his drink in Stigmata, flexing the fingers of his right hand and really looking forward to when it's properly good as new. The pull of still-healing flesh is making his already typical-scholar's-handwriting more strained.

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you magnificent fuck up
28 September 2008 @ 01:14 am
[log] come on hold my hand i want to contact the living  

There are all sorts of things occupying Martel's attention lately - some of them more esoteric than others - but none so distracting he doesn't think to...well, to check in, for lack of a better way of putting it. His handwriting suffers slightly for the pinch of healing skin over his knuckles, but that'll be dispensed with soon enough.

It's a little difficult to schedule a meeting with someone when they live in another universe and your contact with it is...necessarily limited, but Martel can make a good estimate of when she will be around, at least, and do his 'I'm avoiding being easily tracked down in the castle, thus working in the nexus' work nearby her portal.

Rather hit or miss, he thinks disapprovingly, so he'll probably have to see about something more efficient. In light of certain things.

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you magnificent fuck up
07 July 2008 @ 09:28 am
[log] and i got no excuse and is that all right  

Martel's morning typically begins before the sun rises; his days are busy lately and it suits him well enough, suits him even more to accomplish as much a day as he can possibly manage.

Not that he's ever had a tendency to push himself.

Still. Today is a little different; Candice had no interest in getting up quite that early and after lighting the fire, he'd seen the sense in it and gone back to bed a while. Breakfast was followed by the parting of ways, and Martel spent most of the morning primarily overseeing the work of the Arum men. The fact he supplies the end-of-day booze is, he's noticed, raising his popularity there astronomically. 

In the afternoon, sleeves rolled up and boots on, he's back in the nexus a while--in search of someone, actually. 

Three guesses who.

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