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xp_communication2006-07-11 04:58 am
x-emplate.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_communication2006-07-11 04:58 am
Letters to Forge and Kyle, Jennie
Around 5am Tuesday morning two handwritten letters are delivered, the first left on the kitchen counter of the writer's shared suite and the second slipped into Jennie's mailbox.
To the Cohabitators--
So, I have departed.
There's not much more to say, really. While etiquette demands I should have provided more notice, in the end I concluded a quiet withdrawal was best. I have never been one for tearful goodbyes. You know me: I am nothing if not subtle. Between vicious attacks on the staff and dramatically burning the whole of my skin off, of course. I confess, I hadn't intended my leaving to coincide so closely with a certain Guthrie's; I'm the first to admit I haven't been terribly attentive of late. I'm aware this leaves the suite at something of a disadvantage, as I will be unavailable to replace him as The Emo One. Alas, needs must. Worry not -- this is neither a matter of offense given nor giving up. However, it has become clear that Xavier's is not the appropriate place for me, and thus I am returning to my jetsetting ways of old.
This was not spur of the moment. Arrangements to meet my specific dietary needs have already been made, so no need to be concerned on that front. As for my mutation, Moira has run the necessary tests. I've stabilized. If it's permanent, brilliant. If not . . . well, I'll take my chances. I've played the invalid before, so believe me when I say I make this choice in full command of all my higher faculties: better a death on my feet than a life on my back. Any day of the bloody week.
I have proven to be a regrettably high-maintenance flatmate, for which you have my apologies. If nothing else, my departure should serve to put an end to the ceaseless notifications of Medlab occupancy. Should you develop any subsequent pangs of nostalgia on this point, I would discourage Kyle from removing any more digits regardless of his ability to regrow them. You as well, Forge. Yes, we are all aware you are perfectly capable of building yourself new ones. Your remaining limbs are to be cherished and appreciated nevertheless.
You'll notice I've left behind quite a bit. Despite my spirited accumulation of personal effects, I prefer to travel light -- and of course, the good thing about material possessions is that one may always buy new ones. As it stands I currently have no use for any of it, so feel free to take what you like. Please exercise discretion while negotiating your claims. I have no desire to learn two weeks from now that an act of homicide has occurred over ownership of my stereo system.
For what you've both done for me -- I'm sure it's become tiresome to hear, but once more does no harm. Thank you.
Kyle, if the manufacturers are to be believed your motorcycle should be along sometime in the next week. Had I known it would take this long I would have simply commissioned Forge. Ah, hindsight.
I'll see you, mates.
Marius
Jennie--
Originally, this was quite different. Witty and exquisitely-worded, sparkling with my usual class and charm. In the end, however, I realized the elaborate circuitousness serves nothing. I'm certain no amount of clever phrasing will assuage your urge to commit severe physical violence upon my person, uncertain health or not, so I may as well just have out with it.
To put it simply: I've gone. Despite its best efforts, this place is doing me no good -- and more, I've become consummately unpleasant company. Circumstances being what they are, I thought it best for all involved that I take a little space.
I owe you an apology regarding the Saturday before last. I was three steps out of line, and then some. The fact that tact and I have, at best, the sort of relationship generally accompanied by some minutes of awkward smalltalk concluded by a conveniently remembered prior engagement is something less than an acceptable excuse. Suffice it to say I was not in the most reasonable mood at the time. I was in the wrong there, and for that I'm sorry. As you pointed out, I've taken the demise of my angst-freeness rather less than admirably. I suppose it's only to be expected when one comes to it so late in life. Fortunately, I'm discovering there's nothing like dropping the whole of one's skin to make one reassess one's life. As we live, so do we learn.
So there it is. Forgive the lack of contact information; arrangements for this week notwithstanding, I'm not quite sure where I'll end up. Letters of abuse and outrage may be directed to my Brisbane address. My mother is quite dependable when it comes to passing on anything that might further her campaign of guilt. Hopefully when next we speak I'll be something resembling myself again.
I'll see you, Jen.
Marius
To the Cohabitators--
So, I have departed.
There's not much more to say, really. While etiquette demands I should have provided more notice, in the end I concluded a quiet withdrawal was best. I have never been one for tearful goodbyes. You know me: I am nothing if not subtle. Between vicious attacks on the staff and dramatically burning the whole of my skin off, of course. I confess, I hadn't intended my leaving to coincide so closely with a certain Guthrie's; I'm the first to admit I haven't been terribly attentive of late. I'm aware this leaves the suite at something of a disadvantage, as I will be unavailable to replace him as The Emo One. Alas, needs must. Worry not -- this is neither a matter of offense given nor giving up. However, it has become clear that Xavier's is not the appropriate place for me, and thus I am returning to my jetsetting ways of old.
This was not spur of the moment. Arrangements to meet my specific dietary needs have already been made, so no need to be concerned on that front. As for my mutation, Moira has run the necessary tests. I've stabilized. If it's permanent, brilliant. If not . . . well, I'll take my chances. I've played the invalid before, so believe me when I say I make this choice in full command of all my higher faculties: better a death on my feet than a life on my back. Any day of the bloody week.
I have proven to be a regrettably high-maintenance flatmate, for which you have my apologies. If nothing else, my departure should serve to put an end to the ceaseless notifications of Medlab occupancy. Should you develop any subsequent pangs of nostalgia on this point, I would discourage Kyle from removing any more digits regardless of his ability to regrow them. You as well, Forge. Yes, we are all aware you are perfectly capable of building yourself new ones. Your remaining limbs are to be cherished and appreciated nevertheless.
You'll notice I've left behind quite a bit. Despite my spirited accumulation of personal effects, I prefer to travel light -- and of course, the good thing about material possessions is that one may always buy new ones. As it stands I currently have no use for any of it, so feel free to take what you like. Please exercise discretion while negotiating your claims. I have no desire to learn two weeks from now that an act of homicide has occurred over ownership of my stereo system.
For what you've both done for me -- I'm sure it's become tiresome to hear, but once more does no harm. Thank you.
Kyle, if the manufacturers are to be believed your motorcycle should be along sometime in the next week. Had I known it would take this long I would have simply commissioned Forge. Ah, hindsight.
I'll see you, mates.
Marius
Jennie--
Originally, this was quite different. Witty and exquisitely-worded, sparkling with my usual class and charm. In the end, however, I realized the elaborate circuitousness serves nothing. I'm certain no amount of clever phrasing will assuage your urge to commit severe physical violence upon my person, uncertain health or not, so I may as well just have out with it.
To put it simply: I've gone. Despite its best efforts, this place is doing me no good -- and more, I've become consummately unpleasant company. Circumstances being what they are, I thought it best for all involved that I take a little space.
I owe you an apology regarding the Saturday before last. I was three steps out of line, and then some. The fact that tact and I have, at best, the sort of relationship generally accompanied by some minutes of awkward smalltalk concluded by a conveniently remembered prior engagement is something less than an acceptable excuse. Suffice it to say I was not in the most reasonable mood at the time. I was in the wrong there, and for that I'm sorry. As you pointed out, I've taken the demise of my angst-freeness rather less than admirably. I suppose it's only to be expected when one comes to it so late in life. Fortunately, I'm discovering there's nothing like dropping the whole of one's skin to make one reassess one's life. As we live, so do we learn.
So there it is. Forgive the lack of contact information; arrangements for this week notwithstanding, I'm not quite sure where I'll end up. Letters of abuse and outrage may be directed to my Brisbane address. My mother is quite dependable when it comes to passing on anything that might further her campaign of guilt. Hopefully when next we speak I'll be something resembling myself again.
I'll see you, Jen.
Marius