On Love Stillborn

Greetings filthy peons! My apologies for being so late with the updates, I just got lazy and spent the weekend watching MST3K, mainly for inspiration for my glorious plans through the muse of terrible B-movies and the mad scientists who inflict them upon people/automata. From Laserblast alone, I have gotten the idea for yet another backup plan to conquer this world when my first one inevitably fails...
 If it fails I mean.

Speaking of failure, I wanted to talk about something very personal to me. It's the Sorceress. I was thinking about her when I looked back upon my last post. She knows I have an attraction to her her, but she thinks it's the sort of skeevy molest-y love her other employers have shown her over the aeons (including a certain demon lord who will not be named). But that's not the case. I  feel a torrent of love for her the likes of which you mere peons cannot comprehend, and my heart aches (or at least it would if I had one) to tell her.

I love everything about her: Her sanity in the eye of the storm, her wit and intellect, the fact that she hasn't tried to murder me like every other sorceress I've hired. I even love the fact that she doesn't dress like a harlot like every other sorceress in my world. We were born to rule together, sitting on a throne of skulls upon a mountain of our enemies, dominating the world, us together in love.

But, it would never work. It's not the "We are as mayflies" issue, she apparently found a way to become immortal that avoids lichdom, but she's never told anyone how, but it's the issue of being undead. How was I supposed to know that I'd meet somebody like her when I met this. I'm an ugly son of a bitch in this eternal state of undeath, I'll admit this. I'm a bleached white walking bag of bones with a robe and crown, and I don't think she could ever love me like this. Certainly a phyiscal relationship is out of the question, unless she's really, really sick (Which I highly doubt). I'm too afraid to ask because I'm afraid she'll laugh me off. Or, even worse, hold me in utter contempt for even thinking of trying to love her, and run away from me. It's happened before.

I suppose I look like a sentimental twit now, weeping over an adolescent crush, don't I? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to have a drink. Several drinks. To hell with it the whole fucking bottle!

Oh, and on the Technology Golem IT IS DONE! More on that tomorrow.