Evangeline Anastasia McDowell

[Bazza]

Entry#: 157
Date: 05 - 08 - 819 AS @ 22:36 SUT
Title: Untitled.

A short space of down time in my suddenly hectic schedule finds me lazing about in the master's quarters of my evil underground lair, propped up on the wall behind me with a pillow to soften the impact of the unfinished stone underneath.

The ambient temperature, whilst somewhat perky, is within the limits of human survivability. This is due - in full - to the repaired and refinished climate control system the base now boasts. I'm quietly enjoying the warmth the blankets provide, as is my lovely partner whom I do believe is either sound asleep or doing a damned good job of pretending to be.

The only noise amidst this abode entitled Alsatia is the furtive tapping of my fingers against this laptop's keyboard. Yes - that means that Sanya is quietly enjoying her cot in the corner. A rare occurrence.

It is with this aptly timed lull in responsibility I bask in the warm glow of the two visible suns of the Kansas system. Bright, unfiltered light shines across the frozen tundra outside the porthole windows, illuminating the lifeless grey dust with shimmering effect.

The vast expanse of concrete splashed out amongst the rock formations that I call a landing pad lies completely empty. There is no business to conduct today, nor is there any in the upcoming days. Only after that do pre-booked commitments exist.

The rest of my family is in much the same state as my raven-haired, chocolate-eyed lover whom I share the bed with. All of our sleep schedules have been destroyed by the irregular orbit and rotation of this small moon we call home, however, they all suffered the same fate once the ability to shut the light out eventuated - only my room has natural light entering it; everyone else lives deeper within the cliff face, the halls and rooms lit only by fluorescent tubes.

Speaking of family and quiet, it seems that Sanya is starting to regrow her hair. She was born with a mop-top of bright blonde hair which actually fell out within weeks... poor little thing was a complete baldy up until just recently. Now she's got a kind of peach fuzz thing happening... but it's thick and just as blonde as before.

I can't believe I'm entertaining these thoughts. I want to see the day where she has enough hair for me to tie it up into a ponytail. Or to put a little hair tie with a flower on it in there.

Oh god.

Little twin tails. Sanya is gonna be a twin tails.

Is this what motherhood is about? Dreaming of playing with your daughters hair?

Either way. I doubt she'll mind. I remember when I was younger mum used to play with my hair all the time. Apparently it was the only thing that identified me as a girl back then.

"Evangeline Anastasia! If you go around looking like that people'll think you're a boy! You really should act more like a girl! Geez!"

I'm going to have to go through exactly the same thing...

Wish mum could help me out. Some advice here and there wouldn't go astray. After all, she made and raised me.

If she's still alive - if anyone from the Peterborough is still alive... I just don't know. Haven't heard of or from her in a couple years now. Mum doesn't know she's a granny and doesn't even know I have a partner.

I can imagine it now.

I run into her somewhere with Sanya in my arms and Misaka next to me.

Mum sees me with the kid. First thing she'll assume is that the person standing next to me is the father. A young Kusarian woman.

Her mind will trip a circuit breaker trying to work it out. Misaka is a woman any way you look at her and it goes without saying mum raised a daughter.

Then I get to explain how two women ended up with two daughters. How I, a proud and noble Bretonian, became domesticated by a budget-sized Kusarian girl. How I got ahold of a daughter who, if she were biological, would have made me a mother at 10 years old. How I secured the required male input to conceive my own baby.

Makes me want to go find her _just_ for that moment.

It. Would. Be. Glorious.

Moving on to other matters. It seems that I have acquired some new, undesired neighbours. I held a brief conference with their supposed leader to meet-and-greet these people who've decided that _my_ system is a good place to set up shop.

From my point of view, if anyone unwanted got wind of the location of Alsatia I would very likely be in a great deal of strife. The more people we have out here, the more likely it is someone who can't keep quiet learns something they shouldn't. And I don't want to have to move out. I like it here.

It's secluded. Quiet. Peaceful. I feel safe. It's warm - well, now it is, anyway. The scenery is quite pleasant as far as star systems go. Everything I own is tied up in this base - a rough-and-ready, poorly-decorated, utilitarian facility I dug out of the side of a cliff in just a few months.

And I don't want some loud mouth twits running around outside attracting attention. If there are pirates here then there will be Navy. Then I'm in trouble.

With that said the information I managed to dig up will prove most useful. For a supposed band of elite unlawfuls they sure to divulge a lot of sensitive data about themselves. It also gave me an excuse to give the Devil's Proxy a good solid run outside, something it's not had in a while; although all that managed to achieve in the end was a failure of one of the hard drives in the recorder when the onboard generator had a heart attack and cooked itself.

Poor thing's locked up in the hangar bay waiting for me to become motivated enough to fix her.

You know what? I'm hungry. I'm supposed to be tired but I'm not. I'm just hungry.

---