#oc diary

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Part 4- Chapter 3 (ii)

-Chapter 3 END-

Woah, it's finally over... The arts took some time but eh, I don't wanna dwell too long on this.

Anyway, that's the reason behind her hatred! A bit too much, maybe? But that's the most logical explanation I have. Sure, she may dislike Angelica but she definitely despises Dr Keh with all her being!

Tw: meat, yandere, heavily implied murder, brief mention of cannibalism, slight described gore

Diary entry two:

I had a nightmare again, they keep getting more graphic. To the point I wake up to my arms bleeding and my claws out.

Vera helped me bandage them up but I have this deep heavy feeling in my stomach. Vera says it’s because I don’t eat. I don’t trust most food, most food has hurt me before. And i don’t want to go back to eating tomatoes and lettuce…

It reminds me too much of when I was young..

Anyways, Vera let me see the little secret she’d been working on and guess what! She had a koi pond installed! I have three koi. I love them so much! Vera is so nice!

I’ve been by the pond all day! It’s peaceful, and a wonderful help to my garden who keeps getting attacked by beetles!

This lonely bed and breakfast is starting to feel like home with Vera, and the fish.

Things have been strange since Dr. Collins came back. She still does the tests and checks, but she talks to me different now. Softer. Like before, when I was little. She asks if I’m eating enough, if I’m sleeping. She even brought me another notebook like the first one.

It feels wrong. Not bad wrong, just… strange. Like a coat that doesn’t fit anymore. I don’t know what she’s trying to do. Part of me wants to go back to how it used to be with her. Part of me thinks it’s a trick.

I keep my distance. I answer her questions, I do what she says, but I don’t let myself get close. Not again. They worked too hard to break me. They made me obey, they made me stay quiet. It’s still in me, even when nobody’s shouting.

This new way they’re treating me feels almost more dangerous than the old way. I don’t know what they want.

And then today, Price came back. But he wasn’t alone this time.

He brought three others with him — four total, counting him. They weren’t like the doctors or guards. They moved like they belonged here, but not like they were here to hurt me. They were soldiers, I could tell by how they walked, how they looked at everything.

I didn’t look at the floor this time. I didn’t bow my head. I stood straight and looked at them. Not glaring. Just looking. Curious. Careful.

They were all geared up: one with a mask that covered his whole face, one with an accent I couldn’t place, one quiet but watching everything. They didn’t have clipboards or collars in their hands. Just gear and sharp eyes.

Price spoke to Dr. Collins in a low voice. I only caught bits of it “…stop pushing her past her own records… let her recover between sessions… keep the outside time regular…” I didn’t hear the rest, but whatever he said made Dr. Collins nod quick, like she wasn’t used to someone talking to her like that.

The others said little. I could tell they were talking about me, but they didn’t look at me like an animal. More like… they were trying to figure me out.

Then Price turned and said, “This is Wolfie.” My callsign, not my number. Hearing it like that felt strange.

He introduced them one by one. The man with the heavy accent smiled was called “Soap.” The quiet one gave a small nod, he's name was “Gaz.” The one in the mask didn’t move much but was called “Ghost.” Hearing their names out loud made my chest feel tight. Real names. Not numbers. Not codes.

Then Soap leaned forward slightly and grinned wider. “So, ya going to be with us soon, Bonnie?”

I froze. I didn’t understand what he meant, so I asked what "Bonnie" means unsure if I can speak at all. I looked towards Dr. Collins to see if she will do anything but she just watched from the side. He just chuckled and said, “It means beautiful.”

"Dear Diary

Do the gods still speak with us? Until a short while ago, I was not certain they even truly existed."

Neneru sat on the edge of a fountain, charcoals in hand. Smudges smeared her hands as well as the front of her dress where she'd attempted to wipe them clean. The little sketchbook she would soon mail to her publisher back home was nearly full now--the newest volume detailing her most recent months spent abroad in Ilsabard and now Thavnair.

Kugane had been nice, but she felt as though she were staring at an exhibit. It was as though there were always a pane of glass between her and what she saw, as though she were doomed to only ever be the observer. Thavnair broke down those barriers with the abundant warmth of hospitality.

It didn't stop her from feeling like an observer. Rather, it made her yearn to be part of something all the more. Before the riots in Ul'Dah, before Sister Grimalkin, before the Masaraja pits, Neneru found life and love in her work writing down the stories and traditions she learned in her travels. Books full of folklore, recipes, truisms, history, anything people were willing to provide her. And along all of them, simple sketches in charcoal or full portraits from the little watercolor kit she sometimes carried.

But since those last days back home, there was a hole sitting inside her.

Neneru noticed it first when her magic lost its strength. She attributed it to the loss of her beloved staff during the fighting. Her mistress, F'reya, saw something different.

"You need to find that joy again. You've lost sight of what you're using magic for. What you're doing any of this for. My little dove, you used to love traveling before you came to me."

Neneru stared.

"Am I wrong," 'Reya asked.

"No, sir." The Lalafellin apprentice opened her mouth to protest. "But my studies. My work with the Cross. Don't you need me here?"

"That's your lesson. That's your studies." F'Reya Fahl styled herself as the self-appointed 'Wizard Prince,' including the over-the-top regalia of her alleged station. The Miquote gave a shrug of a single shoulder and smiled down at her charge. "Neru, my little bell pepper, I want you to hit the road."

"If it ever happened that my mother found my journals, she would be broken hearted to know that I haven't believed in the Traders--or any of the Twelve for that matter--since I was a little girl. Nald'thal didn't rescue their city when the calamity came. And all the wealth of Ul'dah did nothing for my family and the other refugees who'd lost our homes all about Thanalan when we were hungry and dying.

When I later learned the nature of such constructs as Primals, well, I suppose that sealed it for me. If the Twelve ever truly existed at all, then surely they were Aetherial constructs of fanatical devotion. No true gods. None who could delivery us from evil, least-wise.

So why do I feel so strange about this encounter?"

"Your technique is lovely."

A shadow fell across her, darkening the page. Looking up, Neneru saw a Ciera woman towering above her. The simple size difference between the two made it seem like the older woman eclipsed the very sun. The lines of her face felt familiar as though she could be related to any of the Ciera Nene held dear. But the blue-green hue of her pale hair marked the tall woman as a clearly unrelated individual.

"May I?" She gestured to the fountain lip beside Neneru.

Nene affected her brightest smile--the one she kept on hand for children, stubborn merchants, and unexpected guests.

"Please. Do." The lalafell scooched to one side to give her new companion room. Nene resumed her sketch, now aware of the audience.

The centerpiece of the two pages laid flat across her lap was a detailed drawing of the bazaar's plaza with quick impressions of locals, hawkers, and guards occupying it. Surrounding the tableau, Neneru filled the pages with rough gestures of clothing and architectural details with notes about their cultural, religious, or political significance.

At this moment, however, her hands roughed in a pair of kneeling children she watched playing on the colorful pavers. She'd been watching the game for all of a half hour--since the children first settled to the task--and as near as she could tell it was a distant cousin of the game Jacks.

"Yes," the Viera hummed to herself. "Very good technical skill. Were you perchance a member of some guild?"

Neneru shook her head. "Self-taught." It was a skill picked up during her years at the Ossuary when she suddenly had ready access to more paper than she'd ever seen in her life. The skill proved especially useful when she'd started submitting her travel journals to the publisher. Not many bought the papers with her articles, but it was a thrill to know even a handful of people had copies of her writing.

"Well, you're quite talented."

Neneru did not take her eyes from the children, but the comment made her forced smile loosen with genuine warmth. "Thank you."

Blowing stray charcoal dust from the pages, she closed the book and set it aside. "I sense a 'but' at the end of your sentence."

If the Viera felt called out, she did not show it. Instead, she beamed. "Well, I complimented the technical skill because that seemed your focus. They are practical drawings. Do you not enjoying what you do?"

All technique and no passion. A familiar refrain these days.

"I do." Neneru gave the comment a diffident shrug.

"I sense a 'but' at the end of your sentence," the Viera returned with a wry smile.

A breath of a laugh escaped Neneru's throat. "Guilty. Mm, I suppose I'm just trying to find myself. I've been through much lately, and though I find naught to be wrong with me, there's no more flame."

"No more flame." The Viera woman mulled over the words. She had no other response, and the two of them sat in companionable silence for a time.

Across from them, the children's game was interrupted by the arrival of a hyuran boy. By appearance he seemed to be the big brother of one of their number. When the two hugged, Neneru caught the Viera woman shining with a joyous look.

As if sensing her questioning look, the Viera leaned in and stage whispered, "Don't these scenes always warm you? The love between two people?"

Neneru only smiled politely in reply.

In retrospect, the way she spoke was strange. As though she were the mentor figure in a parable. I told her nothing of my late sister, but I get the impression she knew. It didn't need to be said. I fear I must sound paranoid. Her question after sounded so much like Mistress 'Reya's. Had I not such familiarity with my teacher's glamours as to be able to spot them, I would swear it were her trying to clumsily teach me some moral lesson.

"Is there aught that you love, Miss Neneru?"

Nene regarded her through hooded eyes. "How did you know my name?"

"Did you not tell me?" The woman considered it for a moment. "I am certain you did."

Nene did not feel so confident, but she corralled her protests. To the original question she said, "Certainly I do. We all do, don't we?"

"Not everyone." The woman's smile turned sad now. "We are full capable of forgetting how to love after hard times, and there is something of it that can cause your humanity to wither. Food becomes tasteless, things that once propelled you forward now provide no impelling fuel, things that came so naturally no longer click into place."

The comment thumped uncomfortably close and Neneru looked away, schooling her face and voice to mirror stillness. "Yes, well, is not everyone undergoing hard times?"

"Of course. Interesting times we live in, are they not? Calamities and scions, and the End of Days. Abominations in Thavnair, famine in Garlemald, riots in Ul'Dah. One could easily lose their way in all this despair."

"But it's all over, is it not?" Neneru hated that the question sounded so uncertain. The riots, at least, were over for the time being.

"Like as not, we'll see more trials ahead. And I think people need to remember how much they need each other, need the things and people they love. The passions that push them forward."

Half turning, Neneru fixed the woman with a searching look. "Do I know you?"

"No, I apologize. I think I just lose hold of my tongue some times. Please forgive me if I'm being over-familiar. Say..."

"Yes?"

"Could you perhaps draw me? I'll pay."

Neneru considered it for a moment.

"Please?"

A warmth like the first gulp of a cup of chain heated her smile and Neneru took up her leather sketchbook once more.

We talked for a time, and she said much the same as Mistress 'Reya and even Miss Trachynwyda about needing to remember what I care about. After, she paid me. A handful of gil coins from a scattering of nations. I made to tear the page out to give to her, but she merely asked to inspect the drawing. She smiled and handed it back to me, leaving without another word. Though the entire encounter has left me with the sense of something larger happening beyond my sight, I did not find the last piece until looking back over my day's work before bed. In the footer of the woman's portrait someone had written "There are many kinds of love."

And beside it, a drawing of two circles, one greater and one lesser. The moons Menphina and Dalamud. Though I counted coins from Thavnair, Kugane, and even Sharlyan, the lion's share came from Ishgard. Didn't the archon Louisoix put one of his monuments to the Twelve in the slopes of Coerthas? I will make a note to visit when I return to the Cross. I'm still unsure what good I am to the organization, but I'll keep trying. People I love are counting on me.

But I am SOOOO nervous to start jrjdjkxlsk It's such a cool looking old notebook and I don't wanna fuck it up even though it's kinda supposed to look old and fucked up and imperfect. Help.

친애하는 일기, 오늘은 내 소중한 친구에 대해 물품. 나는 더 나은 내 인생을 변경 사람과 함께 시작합니다: 아스트라. 내 멘토. 내 애인. 나의 구원자 ..

아스트라는 내 인생에서 매우 중요한 사람이야. 그는 내가 태어나기 오래 전에 내 부모를 알고 있었다. 그는 내가 믿는 사람들 중 한 명입니다. 아스트라는 내가 아비아르 코브로 돌아왔을 때 날 위해 있었어. 그는 내 오랜 부재 후, 나를 다시 환영하는 첫번째이었다. 부모님을 잃은 후부터 집에서 멀리 떨어져 있었어요.. 그래서 나는 그가 이러한 모든 년 후 저를 기억하는 것만큼 오래된 사람이 놀랐습니다! 그 날 날 날개 아래서 나를 데려갔고, 나는 그 이후로 그의 타워에서 그와 함께 살았다. 그의 지도에서, 나는 더 나은 내 선물을 이해했다. 그는 타로에 대해 가르쳐 주었고 나는 그것을 아주 많이 즐긴다! 매일 지나가는 날,우리의 마음은 함께 더 가까이 성장한다. 우리의 유대감은 강화. 난 사랑에 빠졌어.. 아스트라 , 별들이 내 삶에 데리고 와줘서 고마워.~

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