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Post by Kaybrie on Jul 10, 2015 11:20:31 GMT -5
Everything,
Everything of worth that was once amidst my families wealth, wasted in a vain, no arrogant attempt by my father to prove his bloodline. I warned him years before our wealth drained away that it could come to this if he let his obsession consume him, and now here we lay, our home claimed by moneylenders, my mother and siblings forced to live in a shelter, our families business run into the ground. All for what? More power? We were happy, we had everything we needed to live comfortably, even continue a gradual and patient climb to greatness, proving the validity of our bloodline through demonstrating our capability... instead our wealth was squandered on searching for relics that were never found.
So now I sit, leagues away from home already soaring through the skies in the belly of an airship, destined for a city of foreigners knowing that every step I take will be among the most difficult in my life. All to repair damage that was the fault of the very man who disowned me as I stepped onto this ship. "I would turn my back on my family", he declared vengefully, the tired circles under his eyes and the grey hairs that streaked his scalp showed clearly a man who turned his back on his family a long time ago. So it meant nothing to me, his insults were numb, painless... I felt nothing but apathy for the man who loved and raised me from infancy, who's seed gave me life. I want to keep the name however, even if he doesn't want me it's still a part of my life growing up, it's a part of who I've been all my life and I have no name to replace it, to fill the void that would be left if I cast it aside.
So now I look to the future, to Calidor with little plan besides a new city, one where I would not have to wear the shame of my father working for money. One step at a time rebuilding what was lost with naught but hope as my guiding star... I pray to my ancestor's, be they great or small that I find some semblance of success here. Perhaps I will look to work for the city itself, ruling governments I was told by a girl while I was boarding pay their employee's well, and the work is honest enough. I'll have to get my feet on the ground and sniff around a bit first, then we'll see where my feet take me.
Zesiro al-Qadir
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Post by Kaybrie on Jul 12, 2015 16:21:31 GMT -5
They ought to call it the city of temptation.
Ever since I crawled out of that sewer and broke fresh air in Calidor, it seems my beliefs, convictions, fuck even my choice of weapons has been challenged by people who think they know better for me. It's the air of this city, the attitude that it carries with it, makes people soft... easily compromised. Can make a quick buck for the cost of some little questionable act, well you do it of course. People here don't think of the long term, consequences of their actions, even the damn drug addicts that fuel a broken system. I hate it here, come out thinking that I'd make something honest and forthright of myself, and find this shithole instead.
I'm not going to break though, people can mock or ridicule me for it if they like, but I hold myself above the mistakes of my father. I won't gamble away anyone elses future for the sake of a quick buck, or even fame or fortune. I want to help fix the problems of this broken system, the most sensible case would be to throw myself in with the CCP... the other day in the Cathedral they seemed like a solid, disciplined lot. But they also looked like powerless servants of powerful fools, drunkards, drug addicts... I wouldn't be surprised if the governing body was paid off by the corporations to just let the city fall into ruin in the name of profits.
But really, there's nowhere else I'd belong, I'm not throwing in with the Crowders, a bunch of undisciplined children... and my beliefs aren't aligned with any of these local religions... Ancestor's watch over me, I am loathe to say I am disappointed with my available options for work.
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Post by Kaybrie on Jul 14, 2015 15:00:19 GMT -5
Threw my lot in with the CCP after all.
I came to them with a perfect resume I guess, an honest civilian coming in to report a crime and help figure it out. Me and Teren anyways, gave the full report on a body we found, something about a 'Angel Slasher'... though nobody's even sure about if it's just one guy or a gang... nobody I've seen... I guess for now I should keep my journal entries on this to a minimum, might drop it on the streets and give away something sensitive.
Anyways, I was deputized on the spot, captain said I was working for him till I could prove myself worthy of a badge and walk among the not-so-proud ranks of this rotting police force. I already figured there was corruption on the inside, I might have to stare down the barrel of just that in no time... being honest and forthright will come with its dangers in and of itself, makes me a target. Like a fat turkey in a forest full of wolves, just wearing a few patches of blue declares me one of us, and that makes me dangerous to them. Dangerous, but new, vulnerable... the FNG of the CCP, ripe to be corrupted. Already had a few bribes, always shaded under another name though... but when I say the word flatly in their face they tend to back off.
Before long people ain't gunna like me, I didn't come here to play games... I can make it at an honest job, with the smithing on the side I have a chance to making enough through hard work and sweat to help my family, maybe one day go home.
For now though, just going to keep numbing myself to all the pain that leaks out of this city, every couple hours I hear about another junkie dying, dirty coppers, dead children, families... homes over run by gangs with the CCP and crowders gunning one another down in the streets. This city isn't just corrupt, it's a hair trigger away from being a warzone.
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Post by Kaybrie on Jul 19, 2015 9:11:08 GMT -5
This city is where people go to die.
It's just one body after another, one drug addict after another, one chuckle fuck looking to build his ego up off me after another. The most exciting and happiest parts of my day is when someone throws me just enough bones to put together a gun, then declines to tip. But of course I can't even just do that most of the time without something fucking ridiculous like a gnome riding a deader ambling into my path. Guy finds a body in the street then shouts to me "This is what you do with your dead?" If his dumb ass had any idea how many bodies I come across and people who need to be nursed back to health on a day by day basis, he'd know that if I tried to dispose of or help them all I'd never get to the part where I stop the badguys. CCP's outnumbered ten to one, and some fucks seem to believe like we just have the run of the show here.
Some new people joined up, I was given the responsibility of busting open a drug den with them while they proved themselves. That all went well and good, cept a bad call on my part lost our informant in the end. Shot off the ringleader's ear after he deep throated my shotgun like I'd just whipped my dick out in front of a classy, well paid lady. Just when I was really beginning to question the sanity of everything, some of the weirder shit started to happen, bodies popping up left right and center, suicides while people screamed about beauty and other stupid shit. Charlie was one of them, he didn't run his head into a wall or shoot himself, but last I saw him he was looking better, cleaner... seeing the guy naked, staring off, muttering about how beautiful something was... put a chill in my spine, not even sure I want to ever find what he found... turn into something like that, if even for a couple hours... no thanks.
It's because of all this that I don't even really get any sleep anymore, I just go back to my room, curl up in a blanket and pick a corner to quietly sob in until morning, I pass out from time to time, but then I start seeing their faces, blood running with black streaks. The past few days I've stepped out of the sinkhole and thought to myself, a good running start and I could dash my head against the rocks and be done with this town and its fucking insanity. Not yet though, not yet...
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Post by Kaybrie on Jul 22, 2015 11:23:00 GMT -5
IT WATCHES-
- IT SCREAMS ,,,,,,,,,,,
IT HUNGERS-
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
NO STOPPING IT
...........
THE END
RETURNED
,,,,,,,,,,
DEATH ,,,,,,,,
..............
HELP ME!!!
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Post by Kaybrie on Jul 23, 2015 12:33:58 GMT -5
Fucking cold... withdrawals I think...
I don't know how to rationalize what I went through, every story I come up with has its own holes. I'll start with what I know... I was patrolling around the north side of town, it was dark out and a bit rainy, but that's nothing new... I passed out and had a messed up dream that would make flowers bury their heads in the dirt... when I came to I was freezing cold, naked I think. Charlie had to find my uniform, and covered from head to toe in cuts, some of them were deep, blood was everywhere... I still remember looking at my hands, stained red like I'd just finished crushing berries.
I remember needing to find something, someone familiar... I wandered, tripped through the city confused and lost. Some folks found me, I'm still not sure if if was them or not, blonde elf girl who fancies her name after a flick of flame... priests, I think... Didn't know though, for all I knew I was still in the docks, still being attacked. There was so much pain, confusion... it was cold like the most frigged winters and I was unarmed, unarmored, with that droning still echoing in my mind... all I could see was the fucking tower. I thought they might be crowders, come to finish me off, or put me in a pen to sell me as another slave. Tried to bring me somewhere, I remember talk about a church... might have been the temple of the triad, since I remember tree's, those skeletal tree's like the bony fingers of death reaching down to snatch me from the world.
I think this was when Emmanuel showed up, and started sewing me back together, I don't remember seeing him that night though, I was spooked out of my mind... barely sure of what was happening around me, didn't even care about my indecency. I called for help, screamed for it even like the people weren't right there to take care of me... I was taken somewhere again, I blacked out, and remember waking up alone in my room, that god damn room was a cage, a cold prison with the jailer still looming over me, reminding me that I wasn't free, that I'd never be free.
Wish I knew why this all happened... my best guess is someone got the better of me and drugged me pretty bad, would explain the hallucinations, my injuries... best I can do is just get back to work for now, keep my mind focused and keep plodding forward, something will help me figure out what happened eventually, or it'll fade from my memory, from my sight eventually, and I can move on.
... so cold...
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Post by Kaybrie on Jul 29, 2015 17:12:46 GMT -5
Past week has been a blur, I'm not entirely sure what's going on...
I've been doing my job, passing between people... opening myself up a bit more. Figure part of me is still waiting for everything to end, I feel my mortality more then I did when I came here. Surrounded by so much death, like the foundation of the city was built upon ash and bones, the mortar mixed with blood and sinew. So much I can't explain, so many people whirling around... like staggering through the fog reaching for the few hands you can pull from a fire, but you always hear the screaming from those you couldn't reach, their chorus all but drowning out the few whispers of thanks you might get. So you look ahead, and keep moving forward, glad that you helped at least that one, not sure if they're going to fall into another inferno the moment you've passed them, but at least you tried.
Emmanuel says that there's nothing physically wrong with me, my eyes and blood are fine... clear as the day I'd arrived. So maybe something lingering is more psychological, is this what it's like being insane? Seeing shit that nobody else can see? Knowing it's there, watching you... piercing cold cutting to the bones, keeping you from feeling the rays of the sun, the glow of a fire... or even the warmth of a lover. People wonder why I don't care for sex... like I am, it'd be like being mounted by a corpse with a beating heart.
Keep trying to do good, get this city set strait, but it's bigger then I am... like shoveling dirt out from under a mountain, and I haven't even reached the rock yet. I'm looking increasingly for help, just a few reliable people who I can lean on... not one of those fakes who tries to be friends with everyone I come across. It's just a lie, don't hold any trust for anyone who's willing to shake hands with a devil, then dance with angels... but there are a few good folk, a few good people who I've been pulling toward the CCPD. I came here looking for a job, in, out... get back to Solatium and buy a new home, start up some small business. Might be an appeal for 'elven' firearms... if nothing else it's niche. But... the more I look around this city, and see the rotten underbelly, the more I want to stick around, try to make something of it.
Also found out I don't really like myself, guess I got to look in the mirror when I got here, and see how small and helpless I really am. Those scars from that night, I'm never going to forget those scars, they'll rip at the core of my being until the day I die. The ultimate showing of what a fake I am. al-Qadir? If there was an ounce of that blood really in me, I wept it out weeks ago.
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Post by Kaybrie on Aug 4, 2015 10:18:11 GMT -5
It wasn't for me.
Although, that's putting it pretty cheap, it's been a train sailing down into the ground. I didn't know how much deeper it would go, but I had to get out, I was never really meant for hell... and while I want to make this city a better place, I guess it's just beyond me. Turned in my badge last night to Captain Brown, not even sure what to write about that... justification for me giving up? I guess if I read everything leading up to this page, it's not hard to figure that out. Still, I needed to get off that ride, it was taking me to dark places, and it was only going to get darker.
Looking more and more toward news of downtown opening up, going up to the museum and trying to pitch myself there and become something of an archaeologist, study old elven history and learn more about why we are where we are today. I think this is a good move for me, something positive, something that may help the elves in the long run. I want to help those in the city, but I damn well know I can't with the CCPD, hell, I'm sure the chesters and the crowders give about as little a shit about us as any other... guess in that regard I'm just going to stay independent of that whole mess. Wait for downtown to open up, then try at it again.
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Post by Kaybrie on Aug 9, 2015 10:38:12 GMT -5
That mess is done with,
If not definitively, then at least for me.
This whole Angel mess began before I'd even really made good with the CCPD and signed up, my first day here, going to that going through to that church with Jiang to hear about the crash... I was curious, I wanted to know why the air bag went down in the first place, if any evidence was there at all. Turns out that whole gathering was either a giant waste of time, or a game changer in an ongoing political game of chess, I figure it's the latter based on some investigations I did later, but I'm not going to write about here. Not long after though I found my first junkie, he'd be my resume... up in the cemetery, stomach cut open with surgical precision, twisted over a couple graves like some serpent.. and that black ooze in his blood. I brought a report of it to the CCPD, and handed it over to Captain Brown, which got me in got me in good with him, and thus began my illustrious month-long career in law enforcement.
And so it started, a trail of blood that I followed to where I was a week ago when I turned in my badge, families and children dead... that one boy's friends dying and begging me to help him while he overdosed on Angel... the boy himself terrified of the consequences of his actions... I started losing sleep, I avoided drugs and just relied on passing out for weeks just... laying awake until I passed out. It took its toll on me, everything horrible came of it, those two elves on that day, the one who died in my arms overdosing, and the other who scoffed a the notion of my help, naming me delusional and dismissing me without much a thought. I think it was then that I realized that I wasn't helping anyone in the CCPD, I was just a blue colored crowder, a government funded gang member beating the streets just to keep the other gangs and the population in control.
I did what I could while I was in, I was involved in two busts, killed a lot of people, had to make some tough calls... did my best to lead and get people involved, interested... guess between my 'condition' and all the shit that was going on around me I was blind to what I really was. When I finally had my wakeup call, I just quietly turned in my badge and gun, there really was no place for me there. I'd either end up stuffed away in some corner for being someone good, who stood up for what was right, or I'd become the very thing I hate, dinner with politicians and the like.
But still, I was invited along for one last ride, guess it was my work on the Angel case, combined with what was once my seniority. The last manor, the Angel's stronghold, heaven's gate. I'm glad it's done with now, makes me feel a little like I did something for this city, a positive shift however subtle. I couldn't stick around to the end without risking exposure to that drug... and I've heard rumors that chill me to the bone. I don't think I want to know really, just avoid it all and let it settle in the docks, people don't sound like they much care to talk about it anyways. The den is no more, and while some Angel might linger in the streets for a time, it will fade, now the city just needs time to heal, and wait for the next great problem to arise.
So ends that brief, but important chapter in my life.
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Post by Kaybrie on Aug 20, 2015 11:56:21 GMT -5
I love you mom,
of all the ways I'd hoped you might hear of me again, this is not among them... a part of me hopes word of this never makes its way back to you. But if it does, I just want you to know you were the best, and you did the best for a stupid girl who thought she could shoulder everything. I've barely been gone a few months and everything terrible that I couldn't imagine having happened to me did, I can't take it anymore, I can't bare the mere memories of what's happened since I arrived in Calidor, just my run of luck... I arranged for the bank to send what's left of my wealth back to Solatium, to where we were staying when I left, I hope you didn't move. I'm sure you'll hate me though when you find this, I know you'd much rather have me back... but if this journal is evidence of anything... I'm more a depraved lunatic now then your daughter.
I'm sorry, I have to cut this short... crying a lot, need to stop while I still have the nerve.
I love you, and pray that my spirit is not so tortured by these terrible things. Good bye.
A smattering of blood stains these last pages. Her journal found open in her room next to a decaying body, propped up against the wall with her revolver still in hand.
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Post by modular on Aug 20, 2015 12:44:22 GMT -5
Entering the room quietly, he was already forewarned about what to expect. It was one of the many times that he was glad to have developed a hard stoicism about such things, but even at the door, before entering, he could feel the strain on it. This wasn't just anyone.
The scene was as had been described to him in advance, but he went over it just as carefully as if he had come across it fresh. A part of his mind, the part that ran over the details, quietly hoped that he might find something out of place. A different, darker piece of it, further removed, knew it wouldn't make a difference whether or not he did - nothing would change what had happened.
The inspection itself was straight forward - the weapon was apparent, and present - he couldn't help but notice, despite himself, that it was the revolver he had gifted when she turned in her service piece. He'd have a drink about that one, maybe, later on, afterwards. Rolling back her sleeves, he checked that the scars he knew her to have, were present, leaving no doubt that it was in fact her.
It was.
With as much care as could be mustered, he began the process of moving her, getting h - the body, into a body bag, so that it could be transported out of the room with something passing for dignity. That dark place deep in his mind snorted at that - the mental equivalent, at least - but he already knew where that line of thought went and it was nowhere he cared to go at this time, so he set it aside for later brooding.
Gathering up the journal, he went over it's contents once, twice, examining the page. It wasn't the first time he'd seen such a thing, and he knew it wouldn't be the last, whatever else he might do with his life, but it was as terrible as anything he'd ever read. Easing the book away, careful not to smudge any of the details, he stood, and began bagging the personal effects that remained around the room, gathering them up in full, to ensure that nothing was left behind for vultures and opportunists.
Then he gathered up the body bag, and made his way back to the morgue.
***
It was some hours later, when he deemed most of his work done. Everything that he could do, with modern medicine, to preserve the body, was undertaken, until such time as the appropriate rites could be carried out. He had already visited the bank, and sought out the details previously mentioned in the journal, so that he could pen a letter to the vi- Zesiro's mother, and have it sent off in advance of the funds that were arranged to be delivered home, in case something else was required to be sent or carried.
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