Adalaide, Summer of 1872 in Vienna, Austria
I'm still feeling the loss of dear Dr. Cannaver, but he was quite a mysterious gentleman. I don't think we've even scratched the surface of his various personalities and disguises. I hope he is well, wherever he has gone and that maybe one day he can settle on personality and really share who he is at the core with someone special.
I have hardly had any time to ruminate over the loss of companion, however brief our interaction has been in the course of my life; ever since the infamous ball, where my magick (to my horror) backfired magnificently, I have been in constant demand for repeat performances throughout Vienna. Penneg and I have already spent whatever gold we have earned to make new props, costumes, and to purchase some high quality firearms. I realized that I need more than magick to save my hide in combat, as it takes time to draw all the necessary energies from the atmosphere.
I decided that I could accomplish two goals with one pursuit: learning how to improve my marksmanship will enable me to perform the incredibly dangerous bullet catching trick without actually killing my assistant, Pierre. He lands atop a levitating silvery sword and I aim right for his beak. The audience assumes some magick is afoot, but really it his a combination of my target practice and Pierre's quick reflexes.
I have barely had a moment to myself lately, what with all the magick studies, marksmanship training, and going out with an interesting gentleman caller. His name is John Nevil Maskelyne, he's a most charming English gentleman who happens to be staying a few weeks in Vienna. He came up to me after one of my shows and told me that word of my infamous and dangerous stage show has reached the magicians of London and he had to come see first hand how my "illusions" were performed. Flattery will get you everywhere, I hate to admit that I'm susectible to it.
I wouldn't call him my beau, but I find him very witty and it is quite stimulating to discuss magick with someone other than Penneg for a change, who would much rather be working away at one of the million projects she's always in the midst of. He tells me he has plans to create a professional stage show, much like me, and his agent William Morton says he will be the greatest living magician in all of New Europe if he has his way. We shall see, I may just give him a run for his money. He says he's going back to London soon, but he hopes we will cross paths again. He has sent me his address in London, so I shall keep corresponding with him and see where this relationship shall lead.