let me be, standing guard. your hands over your face. i know you don't like to see it, i know you don't like to feel it. and here i am falling asleep trying to keep awake falling asleep... is this war? dream, daydream? counting bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums.
counting bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums.
surrounded.

forget we have an existence/ ./and just be. go back to sleep. there are no questions there.
this war. this is. is this?
curled up in fetal position, awaking in a sweat, still.. clutching the knife. rek, protect me. your paranoia may just save me. and this.
is actually happening.
constance knows. there is always truth in denial. i deny that it is true. the clocks obey her; occurances happen over and over; time is circular flux.

when will i be safe? when she is real. but i know that cannot be. remember, denial is truth. scoffing, i like to scoff, this doesn't happen like you're imagining it. someone have some sense here. rosewen? no; too caught up in the petty. keesha? is not aware of anything but her happiness. how am i pushing through? mantra's strength bleeding into mine. and this is how we always know each other.
daishou, war goddess, weapons in your hands and always by your side. keep me [no, keep REK] from making rash actions. help me strategize. help me keep myself together and in constant state of defense, defense, not offense. they won't know i am capable of it until it is too late; until they make their move. this arron in the back of your mind? oh, you know you wish you could know what he knows. if anything.

let's go back to sleep. let's let calmness [constance] creep back into control.
[she is. the mask. of rek.] only removed in sleep. covering subconsciousness; dreamscaper's drawing you out like poison [devils] and horace will have his time someday.

let's just. go BACK. to SLEEP.

how very much alike
they really are.

Some things are
Not made to last…

He hums, the violin strings vibrate. I can feel them from here. There is only one note he can play, the first of that song, the low, low string. He plays it, numerous times. Over and over. And then he hands it to me. I take the instrument, put the bow to the strings, and pull it. Vibrations. The sound is perfect. It imitates the note he just played, but better; more perfectly suited to the song he was attempting. I continue. I play. I play on. And then. Like him. I hit a spot where I cannot continue any further. So I keep playing that part, over and over… and over.

I awoke with that song in my head, overtheme to the morning. Rek is fine with it; she is best adapted to post-waking [it’s the lack of guard against the dreams, the masklessness.]

where are we going?


lead us through the jungle, these things that will die soon, these things. living things. this place is alive; it will eat you alive. and they live here. they live here.


i don't want taking anymore, i don't want overcatigorization but i don't know how else to handle it..... this result? creating societies to escape this one? i am her, or her, or her, or him, or her, or they.... i am none and i am all. i am either an athiest and am no one, or i beleive in god and beleive in myself. the only religion i would have is... self worship? no, nononononono. pushing it too far. let's go back. same entries as always.

horace; he was the same. regular child. changed in destruction, witness to the fall of god if only from his own mind and then? experiment taken, twisted the desire to do god's last wish, take everyone's life if god wants everyone to be as him, and if god is dead, should not everyone be dead? tis so simple to mere.... need. he has no reason nor memory as to why now. he just.... does it.

scared, not scared.

take her hands; pray. [why do you want to be known perfectly? don't threaten me. i am absolute.]

"she is the incarnation of a body which had held constance at one lifetime. when rek came to her country for a short time to find horace, she recognized her from her past life of which she had been having vivid dreams. she took rek in and taught her the art of the samurai and kendo, and helped to reinstill beleifs about living..." who is she?

flowers, katana. they balance out. a female warrior... does she have to retain both?

why can't i just be like them?

why can't she just be able to fly? torn dripping bleeding, hold still. they sedated her and tore off her last chance for normality; as long as she had wings, she could stay inside that special society, whether or not she was a khlyppan. long convincing herself that there were no khlyppans, or they meant nothing. if they meant nothing then she would be normal. why did i have to know so young? voluntary loss of voice for so many years; it was a shock she still knew how to say 'thank you' when kenni saved her from that damn bar. people were always using her, the orphanage head especially. how could you argue if you had no voice? and how could you try to be something in a society that demanded wholly the one thing you lacked? if only i were born to someone else. i'd have a normal family and i could fly again and i'd have a mother and a father and i wouldn't have to work until i was grown up all the way. but i... i just have to take it. one of these days, i'll show them.

..i can't remember. if enniana is the species, what is meiarang? unless meiarang is the species and enniana is the country and ferluing is just something i made up because i forgot it had a name? unh. confusing. enniana is the country, meiarang is the species. ferluing is now the name of the language. [named after the largest province, which has the most contact with noardol.]
must finish map; though i have a feeling it's going to be always being changed. need small countries... erghh.

turns out that the ancient 'dragons' of hroneim are the origin of most languages; what's more, creators of all species. [could it really be possible for that many humanoid species to exist on one planet, with the only explanation being 'evolution'? i wouldn't accept it.] part went north and kept language; includes heittjard, noardol, nanzeiger, devitt, hroneim [of course] and to a lesser extent, krovlandia and zamertnyj. kyuuriku, dung-hoi, tefed, bedait, and most western-continent countries' language originated from themselves; unlike the species released to the north, they were not exposed to the language of the hroneim dragons. ennianas of ferluing, as well, do not have a language based in it. [most likely the only eastern continent country which is not].
where are the dragons now? gone. either killed off in a plague/war or left the planet to colonize other places; no one truly knows. there are none left. the slaves of the last remnants of the cities [sort of an opposite effect roman empire; went from space age to roman age as opposed to vice versa] still roam the lands, the last carriers of any story or history of them. [part of these nomads settled in northwest hroneim, founding cities; arron's origins are here.]
/confident; tangledup.\

nameless... can't stop her from being when she's there so fast, has been; just sitting, waiting. i just couldn't keep her out; she jammed her foot in the door before i could close it and told me her story antes de she herself forgot it entirely.


nachJaeger. nihtgenga. nottdrepast. nighthunter. in any language. dark orange hair, dark green then black tips. lime eyes. nocturnal. markings straight, rectangular; tufts on arms, ears, legs. gothic, victorian clothing. black, pink, red, lace. black around eyes.



born into royalty in the crumbling age of kings of nanzeiger. coup d'etat of the government [much like russia to royal family] resulting in the murder of her family; was only survivor. was a small child when it happened; about 10 years before rek/horace put into experiment. taken by noardol scientists [who have tendency to take refugees/unlikely survivors of other countries because of feeling of superiority for own species, and the specimens being thought dead to anyone who knew of them] and put into assassin training/brainwashing 'old-fashioned way' [without the reliance upon machines]. up until a certain point, that is; was put into stasis at age 13-15 [true age unknown] to bring about excelled healing/theoretical immortality/etc at about the same time rek/horace were. for some reason [odd reactions, unforeseen variables] immortality worked 'better' on her; did not escape as rek and horace did, so she was at the mercy of the scientists who tried to dispose of her. survived destruction attempt; took a few decades to recover body, but lost memory entirely. only knows languages -- the one of her original country, and noardish. has strange desires to hunt/kill.
she doesn't think about what she does... she just does it. if she wants something, she gets it. she was spoiled as a child, and it stayed with her. likes fancy clothes; black, goth -- reflective of killing desire, the only thing she's sure of. nocturnal, so dislikes daylight muchly; one more reason to wear black [gives night camoflauge]. can see very well at night, and day seems far brighter than to us. almost prissy. far too good at what she does. unlike horace, who kills to fulfill a subconscious [yet very twisted] need to do good and please God, she kills because she's irritated, bored, frustrated; petty reasons. atheist, of course. sometimes likes to torture preists. [she's so evil, holy shit]. fourth level. [it's getting crowded in there].
i'd love to call her Jaeger -- that is what she calls herself occasionally, if asked -- if it weren't associated with Jaegermeister. [which means professional hunter. and if that wasn't a freaking beer, that would be her full name. unh. curses upon society and capitalistic commercials.]

with the coming of a photobucket account, comes the initial - holy crap, pictures! [now i don't have to finish things before posting them. or post fullblown artworks. online. unh.]