Gregory Coleville

OOC: Takes place after this thread.

San Francisco. Osaka. Helsinki. Sydney. Buenos Aires. The more that Gregory had researched into the leading practitioners of past-life regressions, the further afield he found these would-be experts, and the more frustrated he became with the increasingly obvious quackery of the subject. Again and again, those who were supposed to be highly-educated individuals with scientific backgrounds and the highest of clinical standards turned out to be well-dressed backroom frauds. As much as he doubted that re-living one of her previous lives was the best course for his new bride, it was what Evelyn wanted, and he could deny her nothing.

At last, Gregory's searches turned up the name of one Dr. Josef Schiller from Vienna, Austria. Unlike the charlatans, Dr. Schiller spoke to both Gregory's representative and then to Gregory himself in plain and uncomplicated terms, was straightforward and honest about the procedure and the results and of a sympathetic but not fawning personality. After some private investigators' inquiries turned up nothing but praise, Gregory made the appointment with Dr. Schiller.

Evelyn and Gregory's plane touched down in Vienna the evening before the appointment. The intention had been to allow them both to rest, but neither seemed quite able to relax. It was, then, a tired but cautiously hopeful couple that waited in Dr. Schiller's reassuringly clean and inviting offices.

April 2009 - 114 - "You know, there's no sense in struggling against a thing when it's got you. It's got you and that's all there is to it - it's got you!" - 'My Man Godfrey'

There was a time when I felt it was my responsibility to help shepherd society or humanity or what have you in the direction I believed was for its benefit. As an immortal, I had a perspective and knowledge that normal people could never have: I could see farther back, understand history with personal knowledge and use it to look forward further and more sharply. With this ability, didn't it place on me the burden to help make the world a better place?

I did try, for a few hundred years. After a lifetime or two, it became plain that I could not be a public leader. No matter what tribe or village or clan or caravan I found that would place themselves in my hands, the fact that I did not age or die inevitably led to their distrust and fear of me. They could not follow a man they believed was possessed or evil.

Afterwards, I worked in secret. I nurtured the leaders of men that I believed were the best and brightest. I funded those who would help their neighbors with great projects or would benefit all the world with their works. When needed, I exerted the wealth or influence I accumulated in order to achieve what I thought were the best ends. But time after time, I saw power corrupt the men I thought incorruptible, watched the most moral and noble senators and emperors fall to the temptations of wealth and status and power.

Humanity and history will have its way. No outside influence will ever be able to mould the world into any particular image, no amount of gold or gift will sway a people from the path their natures will set them upon.

Time is a river and history the current, and I long ago learned not to attempt to dam it, divert it or to swim upstream. Instead, I spread my arms and am carried away.

(323)

Paris, 1601

To say the celebration was lavish would be a grave understatement, Gregor mused. Anyone who was anyone, and for his money, anyone who could buy a powdered wig had come to the Palais for the grandest party the Court had seen in at least the last five seasons. And for once, Gregor de Coleuille could not begrudge King Henri IV his elation. The King of France had been blessed with a child, and a son to serve as Dauphin and heir to the throne. Louis, thought Gregor, of course. Louis XIII if he survives to the throne.

Despite the understandable happiness of the Royal family, Gregor still wished to be amongst the nobility for as little a time as his station would allow. Fate, though, had intervened to lead his steps to the dance floor, in the arms of the only woman he would ever love. This he knew about her with absolute and unshakeable certainty, even though he and Lady Evangeline de Sainte Claire had only met days before.

They had danced, and she had chided him for misrepresenting his abilities. But she had followed him through every step and turn, moving with Gregor as if their bodies had been designed and constructed for that single action. After the dance, Gregor had boldly taken the Lady's hand and led her here, to a quiet parlor room, away from the revelry.

It took all he had to quiet his anxiousness, to restrain himself from taking Lady Evangeline into his arms and declaring his devotion, from making love to her then and there. Instead, he leaned heavily against a gilded chair and offered her a thin smile.

"I apologize for my deceit, Lady Evangeline. Feigning ineptitude is a highly effective means of rebuffing the ladies of Court without losing face."