Actiones Futiles

For the past two days, Jean and I have been working on trying to open the door to the corridor behind the bookcase with little success. The body of information she has gathered is impressive. Most of it comes from a very large tome called Asperio Ostium but there are scraps from other books and Marcus’s notes as well. We started with the more occultish and ritualistic methods, simply because we were more skeptical of them and wanted to get them out of the way. No spells or incantations or what have you produced a door behind the bookcase, so we decided to shelve the magic/magyk/magicka/whatever and concentrate on more science-based approaches, which ultimately proved equally fruitless. After exhausting most of our ideas, Jean was understandably frustrated and tossed the Asperio Ostium across the room in a fit of rage. I swear the colour drained from her face when she did it and she ran to get it.

When she came back, the light caught her in a way that really highlighted how sickly she’s looking and I felt the need to comment, which led to this brief but memorable (to me, at least) exchange;

“Jean, calm down, you’re only going to end up hurting yourself.”

“At least it means I can still be hurt. I’ll take my chances.”

“How many chances do you think self-abusing alcoholics get?”


I knew better than to press the argument. After that, we tried a few more desperate ideas but they didn’t work. As of now, it looks like I’m not going to be getting the answers I want anytime soon.


2 comments on “Actiones Futiles

  1. Elaine says:

    I guess you seem to attract the self-abusing alcoholics, anyway. This is what, two within a month?

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