Fuzzy was my high school career, pretty much. Gods, you guys are going to get so sick of me blithering about him, but at least this time it's happy blithering, more or less -- not wailing about how he stole my soul. Reasonably happy. We clicked so hard, and we're clicking again. It works best when we're bouncing ideas off each other. We work best in person, of course, clustered around a computer -- probably both of us on separate computers, me writing and him drawing, me committing the best ideas to a file or five.
I miss all that, and I'm getting it back.
There's a vital element to the apartment that's here now that I have a working altar set up in the middle of it. It was missing before. There's something about my life that goes into hibernation when it isn't in the presence of both active and passive "extra" magics -- things that are above and beyond the little magics that constantly surround me. Now it's alive again, and it should stay that way as long as the altar's active.