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-rippers_game- ((Intro - Return))
Oct. 26th, 2004 02:29 pmI believe I lost track of time since the Great Battle. Ironic, I suppose, if one were to consider my origins and now-lost powers.
Wesley was dead, and it was…unsettling. I had murdered Vail, avenged my guide’s death, and left to join the two vampires and the mortal in our fight that we knew was a lost cause. Screams pierced the air, and I reveled in it as blood dripped from my fingers to the wetness surrounding me.
I chose to ignore the wetness upon my cheeks.
My wounds were manageable, and somehow I had lost track of the others. The skies had poured down on us and…I do not wish to think upon it much these days.
Instead I found myself restless, moving to various locations where I had hoped to find the truth that Wesley had never told me about. Before I had moved on, however, I had stopped to remove various items I knew I would need. The strange black box with the green symbol upon it that compelled me to play meaningless games…the small book that once belonged to Wesley in which he recounted my origin and training…a small rabbit-shaped item that I had discovered hidden in a box along with other items that once were The Shell’s.
I took them all.
I was disappointed to discover that Knights of the Old Republic referred not to The Old Ones who had once ruled this plane of existence, but to small mortals wielding glowing objects as they marched about trying to destroy one another. While it did remind me of the Great Battle, it taught me nothing of the humanity I needed to understand – for yes, I could see it truly was within me somehow, no matter what I might do to rid myself of the stench.
( My Travels )
The pain lessened as time went on, yet that was only the physical side of it. The other side – the human side with emotions I still could not comprehend – was another matter entirely. Yet I remained, ever seeking, ever searching…Wesley’s journal in hand as the body of the former Fred Burkle stepped out with a very-human smile on her face.
On my face.
Wesley was dead, and it was…unsettling. I had murdered Vail, avenged my guide’s death, and left to join the two vampires and the mortal in our fight that we knew was a lost cause. Screams pierced the air, and I reveled in it as blood dripped from my fingers to the wetness surrounding me.
I chose to ignore the wetness upon my cheeks.
My wounds were manageable, and somehow I had lost track of the others. The skies had poured down on us and…I do not wish to think upon it much these days.
Instead I found myself restless, moving to various locations where I had hoped to find the truth that Wesley had never told me about. Before I had moved on, however, I had stopped to remove various items I knew I would need. The strange black box with the green symbol upon it that compelled me to play meaningless games…the small book that once belonged to Wesley in which he recounted my origin and training…a small rabbit-shaped item that I had discovered hidden in a box along with other items that once were The Shell’s.
I took them all.
I was disappointed to discover that Knights of the Old Republic referred not to The Old Ones who had once ruled this plane of existence, but to small mortals wielding glowing objects as they marched about trying to destroy one another. While it did remind me of the Great Battle, it taught me nothing of the humanity I needed to understand – for yes, I could see it truly was within me somehow, no matter what I might do to rid myself of the stench.
( My Travels )
The pain lessened as time went on, yet that was only the physical side of it. The other side – the human side with emotions I still could not comprehend – was another matter entirely. Yet I remained, ever seeking, ever searching…Wesley’s journal in hand as the body of the former Fred Burkle stepped out with a very-human smile on her face.
On my face.
