Dearest mother, I am writing to inform you that the news surrounding me recently have been a tad misleading if not outright false. I am quite alive and doing fine with Miranda by my side, and although our house has suffered minor damage from the demonic attack on Wednesday, it is nothing that the insurance company cannot cover. What’s a bit of the siding and a hinge on the doors anyways when compared to our lives?
Tomorrow, I am planning on expressing my desire to marry Miranda once again, and hopefully he will forgive me for the few minor outbursts that I’ve had recently. Juggling my job at the Laboratory, making sure that Miranda is well taken care of, and requesting proof of his citizenship from the bigwigs up in Soona Bris is worlds more stressful than I ever dreamed it could be. I am on the verge of one of the biggest scientific breakthroughs in the history of mankind, mother… I have waited a good portion of my life in order to hear my good friend and servant Giles proclaim to me in the middle of the night that my magnum opus Project Nevermore is in its final stage. For the sake of national security, I have to keep the details private, but it could mean a good thirty years added onto a human being’s life if not imperfect immortality. Think of how much money the healthcare system could save if they only had to focus on keeping humans healthy and dealing with injuries rather than deadly diseases! The outside world would most likely reject it, however, as then the cancer industry would collapse and thousands of people would be out of jobs.
But in other news- and I know that you will most likely frown upon this- but Miranda is pregnant. I will have to get her into a doctor sometime this week, provided that the citizenship forms finally come in and I can walk him into an outside provider without having to shed light about the Laboratory’s activities to people who would have no benevolent use for the information. Father fought hard to keep that place open and away from the scrutiny of the police, and I will not have it fall into the hands of some Zorphian dunce who would shut the place down and start shrieking about some feigned abuse.
With all the love in the world, I await the details of your visit so that I may plan the wedding accordingly.