Work Text:
Dear Gusset,
You know I’m not good with words, but there’s already poor chance you might receive any word from me, and you, of anyone I know, deserve it most.
I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye to you and I hope you got to go back to London soon if everyone but me and Grizzop landed back in Rome safely. Rome at present time, rather than the one I landed in. It’s a long story. And I’m sorry about all the times my messed up life has put you in danger too. I know, you can defend yourself better than anyone I know. But I worry.Things here are confusing, but I’m settling in okay. There’s lot of space I can practice with my knives, and the kids here were really shy at the beginning, but they like watching me when I do. I don’t think some of the older people here like that I’m teaching ‘em knife tricks, but everyone is trying to pick up the crumbs of their past life, and I don’t think they care enough. I’ve asked around best I can, I’m still learning the language, but I don’t think I will ever get back to you guys. But I’m doing okay Gusset. I wish I had a friend, I miss Grizzop and it hurts, but I’m okay. I’d never believed you, when you told me I would be okay one day, and I’d find my place. I don’t know if this will ever be perfect. I’m living thousands of years in the past, and nobody here understands when I try to explain. Maybe it’s because my Latin is really bad. But maybe things can settle. Maybe I’ll believe you now.
I’m not sure you would like it here though Gusset. Not much to appraise, and when there is it doesn’t really translate into value. And no mechanical stuff, but I’m trying to build a safe for my knives. It’s pretty much a box made of wood and I could smash it on the ground if I really wanted to get into it, but the lock seems to be working fine. You’ve taught me so much and I’m trying to teach it to the people here in a way that makes sense to them. Most of them don’t listen, but I get it. The world is broken in half as far as they understand it. So during the day I try and help ‘em. A lot of injured people bleed in from the burning city every day, and some of them die, but others are getting better.
That’s all I see Gusset, and I really hope you’re seeing less pain than me. Do try and get out of Rome as soon as you can.
Hope things are okay,
Your friend from the past, Sasha Whosaskinus
p.s.: Got round to getting a new name. I think you’d like it :)
p.p.s.: I know what that means now! It’s post scriptum, like, “after writing”. Latin is neat.