What's the fucking point? (IC)

There are those days in this city when you almost have a renewed sense of humanity. Almost.

Then there are days like today.

Days when no matter how hard you try, nothing that goes on inside or out of your mind makes any sense. Days when you realize that turning the gun on yourself would be far easier than keeping it aimed at the enemy. But for some godforsaken reason, you don't.

Last night, my worst nightmare struck from the shadows and nearly got his revenge. Careless, stupid me...when will I finally learn to watch the darkness closest of all? That Ventrue bastard is back again. When Geroff disappeared again, and things were quiet, I was fairly certain he was gone too. Oh foolish Al. Maybe the pain burning across your back and ribs, the throbbing ache in your head and the bite on your neck will linger in your memory this time and keep you from getting yourself killed.

Or worse, getting an officer killed. Thank all that is decent and holy for Jazon. If he hadn't been around...I wouldn't be writing this. As it is, I look and feel as if I've been hit by a freight train, and Jaz took one in the gut. To make it all worse, Roaman can't understand why I didn't want to tell him. That asshole threatened him, used my love for Ro against me. I put a call through to Dea to let her know Roaman was sending security for Alex. And I so believed that sending him away was the safest, best decision for his life.

Now...on the plus...the UV rounds that Sergeant McMillan produced are amazing. And the look on that Ventrue face when a couple of them exploded on the wall was almost worth the boot to the head I took. Almost. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or bad...him out there knowing what we're carrying now. One shot...ONE shot...this'll all be over. And at this point, I don't care who gets that shot.

Waking up and putting on that uniform this morning was something akin to torture. Much like the rest of the day that followed. I'm literally eaten alive inside by Cadet Ziarkower. I liked him, I trusted him, I believed him. He is now a fugitive, dangerous and violent, after attacking more than one person and raping another. To make it all ten times worse, I have every reason to believe that he is someone's ghoul. Maybe ol' Zack'll be the first personal recipient of those beautiful blue bullets.

I walk into the station this afternoon to find Nic in a physical fight with someone impersonating an MPD officer. Gunplay ensued, and Nic managed to get a flashbang in this fucker's pocket before he left. It detonated on main street near the sushi bar. My...god...

For the positives today, Syke is coming back. I'm reorganizing the academy. And Mirit Nitely is cured of whatever that virus was. She said something curious to me today...about taking care of myself because Markko would be devestated if something happened to me. Why doesn't the world understand that if I'm to marry Roaman, I don't want to hear these things anymore?

If I'm to marry Roaman...

He has to learn who he's dealing with. I dont' need his protection, I don't need his guns. And what's more, if he gets himself killed exacting revenge on my behalf...God help him.

My body hurts. I don't take an asskicking like I did 20 years ago. My mind is awash with everything I could be doing if I wasn't doing this.

But then, if I wasn't doing this, all those other things wouldn't matter a bit.

Come out, Zack. We have things to discuss.
Come out, Hookum. We're waiting.