Iago

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparell'd in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;—
Turn wheresoe'er I may,
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

I'll admit I have been feeling more than slightly nostalgic lately. And that nostalgia has affected my mood. Whether it is the atmosphere or the events of the past few weeks, I cannot be sure. But whatever has brought on this fit of partial melancholy has caused it to continue, despite my best efforts to counter it. Hence the poetry. Perhaps I simply needed to write it out. Cast it from my mind like some sort of unwanted parasite.

But I do adore poetry. And I have noticed that there are some who are willing to share without prompting. But here is my prompt. Lighten the mood with words.

[Private to Lucius]

It didn't take long for you to test his patience, did it? What a pity.

[Iago sounds...tired. He's in the second floor common room, for anyone who sees, and he's trying not to bleed on the furniture. TRYING.]

I killed Crane. [He couldn't sound more gleeful if he tried.] Someone gave the idiot coward a knife and he stabbed me.

[He sighs.] So before I go to zero, I might need someone to look at this.

[OOC: This comes after this log. It's still in progress, but...to keep the timelines going, I'm throwing this up here. Iago's probably not going to respond much or for very long to people he doesn't trust. He has a habit of going quiet after he's done bad things. :C ]