When I last posted to you, I was on my desktop in one of my various 'homes.' 'Dens' might be a more appropriate word, given their size and the tendency of some in the blogosphere to compare me to a hunter, but what you call them is irrelevant. What is relevant is where I am now: I am posting from my laptop from the guest room of Antithesis.
I am not impressed.
Garish green bedcovers, a wall of glass to let the damnable sunlight in during the day, and a single painting. Not a real painting, either; some generic forestscape, with tree upon tree upon tree. I must give the decorators some credit, though: the desk I'm seated at is made of mahogany, as is the bed frame and the dresser I will not likely use. Reminds me of my most frequented den. Nice mahogany table for carving. The hospitality leaves much to be desired.
I have spent the past two days attempting to familiarize myself with the layout of the city. I did not fail, but rather took an alternative route to succeeding. While I cannot tell you where I went, nor could I find a particular spot in a short amount of time, I did succeed in finding where my Target is living for the time being.
I have also decided to indulge myself for once. Why not? After all, I'm vacationing in beautiful Pittsburgh after Father has sent me on what I can only assume to be a suicide mission, given the amount of opposition I've met in 37, so I might as well have my fun. I will take care of the Target before she leaves the city. Then I will return home, accept Father's forgiveness, and continue on serving Him.
...and while I'm dreaming, I'd also like a shiny new knife and for the pool of people who can somehow escape my Sight to stop expanding rapidly. If that trait becomes obsolete, I'll have a serious problem.