--

:: 2004 14 April :: 7.55 pm

kip is turning out pretty generic; but at the same time, generically... different? he seems immature. should write stories more; makes things easier to think out. or make up. such as kip's not being raised on devitt islands; i was unaware of this. could give reasons for his tattoos on arms. smaller island of griffins/other species [meiarang, perhaps?] which uses the common tongue [noardish in this era, because of the sail/colonization/large trade going on around world]; also has created a form of tattooing which not only inks the skin but causes the fur that grows back to be the color of the inked parts.
griffins on this island more of a darker blue; less likely to have green hair than blue, turquoise, perhaps lighter colors. greenish-yellow eyes as well, as opposed to gold. wings as well are tipped in black. [ou subspecies.]

and quarrels in the mornings; sort yourselves out. but i suppose it's better/or not.

:: 2004 13 April :: 7.16 pm

suddenly i feel like everyone else.

orphan, but what's worse than an adopted orphan is one who has no wings when everyone else can fly. no, really.

'the hull's breached!' the crewmembers shouted from the innards of the ship, urgency in their voice.
'how long can we hold out?!' kenni was in an unusual state of emergency.
'we can patch it up to last another half hour, hour at the most,' sehale answered.
'then get to it.' the captain ordered. she turned upwards, facing the crow's nest. 'kip, what can you see? any land around here?'
'there's none on the map for several leagues,' enck muttered to her. 'i don't think--'
'there's no harm in looking, enck..' kenni snarled back, her voice just as low. 'you know as well as i do it might be our only chance. stop living without doubt. and get back to the quarterdeck,' she turned away, took a swig of her rum, and walked towards the forecastle. 'don't go down, hun,' she said to the ship, 'don't go down now.'
a few moments passed in relative silence; the ship creaked, the waves kept on moving as always. ever and anon she could hear the crewmen in the hold patching up and sloshing about in the water, calling to each other. doing well, she hoped.
'captain..!' kip's urgent voice broke the quiet. 'there's a small island northeast of here.'
'then get us there, enck, dear...!' kenni ordered.
'and you're assuming they'll let us dock?'
'i'm assuming we might as well try...! god damnit, enck, i don't want this ship to go down, and i sure as hell don't want to go down with it!' kenni reprimanded. 'now stop questioning my orders before you earn yourself a whipping.'
both knew the threat was invalid; kenni was sober as ever, even through the rum. even drunk, it was highly unlikely she would order a punishment of her mentor.
they sailed through the fog then in quiet again, permeated with the occasional gull cry and, soon, the sounds of the shore ever so slightly coming to their ears. kip flew ahead to warn the dock masters of their coming.
he returned sooner than expected. 'there's no one there. the dock seems abandoned, and it's small; probably for personal use only.'
'dock anyways,' kenni ordered. 'i'd rather have this boat sink in harbor than out to sea.'
there was commotion as the crew prepared to dock; and an unexpectain voice came up from the hold. 'captain!' sehale cried. 'the breach is almost fixed. sooner than expected. there was some extra lumber as cargo; we had to use it, but--'
'spare me the details,' kenni answered, and then sighed in releif. 'i'm just glad to hear it.'

the crew, when docked, was ordered to take the wet cargo and let whatever needed to dry out. mantra, as always, helped if she could.
when the crew was almost done unloading, kip called mantra over. 'i've just gone scouting for any inhabitants here,' he said to her, 'and i've come across something kenni wants you to look at.'
thoroughly confused, mantra followed as he led her out of the dock area onto a small nearby hill. there was a large stone outcropping, with one large boulder sticking out. as she got closer, she realized there were words carved into the stone.
'i don't know what it means,' kip told her. 'it's in the gryffin tongue, and i wasn't raised on our islands... i can't read it,' he looked down, slightly shamed for his lack. 'anyways... kenni thought you might.'
mantra faced him curiously, that look of acknowledgement coming across her visage like it always did whenever anyone asked her to do something useful. she turned away then, and approached the stone.
she could easily make out the first letterings; it was a marker, telling who owned this island. the name of the patron, though, was covered in moss. she pulled it away.
'khlyppan.'
her name. not her adopted name; and not a common surname. she knew little of her original family, but she was aware that long ago they had been widely known, and the more famous gryffins rarely had lower families take the same surname as them.
she looked up, around, after staring at the fateful grooves in the rock.
'well? what does it say?' kip called to her. she paused, and stood up.
'khlyppan.' she said, her voice small but clear.
'khly-- you mean that... that family?'
she nodded. 'it's my true surname as well. i'm adopted.'
'...what?!' kip cried out. 'you're the last khlyppan...?!'
'last? but... they just... faded off and lost their power. it doesn't mean anything...' she muttered, half to herself. 'it doesn't mean anything.'
'no... mantra, this means a lot.'
she turned toward the higher hills of the island. through the fog that had set in after they docked, she thought she could make out something. but to think about it... to realize...
'this... this... where are we...?!'

:: 2004 11 April :: 10.10 pm

simple lives.

if only, if only~

:: 2004 11 April :: 1.06 am
:: Music: vnvn - radius�

[why cant i just use a notebook? //terriblehorribleordeal.]

bringing up kenni's past; reasons for doing things. but names now. ferlung=jungle country, with plains border on north and desert to south. kenni's land. [in language, formal names have tendency to end in -ng; long u, use many vowels]

mantra's island nation~ devitt. not sure about language there; always seems to have a germanic influence. possibly from south lands, deserts of the dragon ruins [hroneim now]; could be descendents, which would make language roots make sense.
and that also means i'll probably be changing the name of the country, unless i can pull one of those 'oh it got named by another country' type shit.

kenni/apprentice/othershit .. hate copying from notebook ungh.

:: 2004 10 April :: 3.15 am
:: Music: syndir gu�s ./& ja tvoja ne pervaja

aft�r a n� ............ ?

want something to fall from my hands; want something to be itself, not a creation from something else. but you . just can't make something from nothing. [but if../ we are nothing? then we aren't something. and then we don't have to worry about being uncreated, because we weren't created in the first place. ]
and i beleive that is why keesha doesn't worry about destruction;? perhaps? doesn't mean it's true doesn't mean anything is true ... : ...

grin. notes, facial features. things i'll know and then not. somehow. [kenni's voice in my head; she is again/ something i wish i was.
something i... .shit?~ does this mean?]

kenni
is now fourth level.

this.... [she's closer]
shouldn't have happened. [it interferes] well with-- it's in a story; but after all weren't the others just part of a story as well? nn. [does this change things?] everything changes things;
no.

:: 2004 8 April :: 11.06 am
:: Music: rammstein

then how you say... 'live by?'

can't beleive i forgot that damn desert. is this world too big? or is there
the
oh god
ogod. no wonder. no wonder.

it eats it eat it eats her memory. [this is why] parasite; it consumes consumer and without being able to retain; how is intelligence? and therefore is he
is it, could it be-- this is damage to constance; this is keeping her from becoming Me. it's keeping us down fasterandfaster/there's nothing we can do. shit.

there is no cure for something like this.

------------/ \------------------------------

i wonder/ifrequiemhadfear of drowning/ merelybecause/ ...?she drowned in loneliness? but things changed; things always changed.
i still need an excuse to feel bad and admit it.

dreamscapers' dead. she lives forever. has nt she al way s b ee n dead? /if one does not have life, it entails death. death. is not being. so /therefore/ she is.

:: 2004 7 April :: 4.09 pm

KIP.
and such and such. physical attributes; but what of personality? dear, oh dear. has good vision, as most gryffins do, which gives him the role of master of the watch. hoop earrings, seashell necklaces, rarely wears shirts because of wings.
mantra is a common case, or at least easy to understand; shunned because of winglessness. took up sailing because life in a world of flight when you can't fly can get depressing. and even on board she's still next to nothing; but kenni watches for her.
i want her to become something great.
i want her to be able to fly some day.
she has to. she has such strength. elegance. it wasn't her fault. dear. dear.
possibly maybe.

:: 2004 6 April :: 11.11 pm
:: Music: i so bell a

kenni? she's a mean drunk. has been known to have mutiners executed when drunk. thankfully, she has an extremely high tolerance so that's rare. has a strange posture; holds her weapons odd, but has great control over them. orders people around and expects to be followed. drinks nothing but rum and is seen with a bottle of it at all times. good shot with a pistol but prefers a cutlass. or throwing knives, if we're talking long range here. but on a ship that's rare.
still. good eyesight, average hearing; likes music, especially pirate songs [even though they're not technically pirates]; breaks into song every now and then onboard ship when bored.
speaking of piratisms, her ship is commandeered [is that the word?] by the traders association between her and mantra's countries; the regular job is usually just to transport cargo, but often she goes off track to go after pirates with bounties on their heads. turns in the bounties, and also keeps a portion of the booty. and yes, she does have a fetish for shiny objects, especially priceless ones.

loud, rude, violent, unpridictable; but also has a good sense of humor. and when alone, tends to sometimes sink into despair with good pal alcohol. thusly she prefers the company of others to solitude.
and mischevious. what else would you expect from a species that's basically a cat/monkey hybrid?

2 nones | --

:: 2004 5 April :: 8.47 pm

rich ol' spoiled bastard, sent to help peoples in krovlandia [it has a naame! a NAME! 'bloodland' covered in strife etc. etc. original name, i think, was forgotten-- used to be called 'nameless land' but even THAT fell out of use. it has no real name now. krovlandia is just the noardol/zamertnyj name taken from the local's nickname for it]. through religious purposes. worst place to be a missionary, if you ask me. but you're not. still i'm the only person who counts now. o ho.
so. first krovlandia fell into civil war. well, the government there had been pretty crappy for a while; it was bound to happen. zamertnyj and noardol had a treaty going on to keep their citizens/officials out of krovlandia; however when the civil war became pretty bad, several groups of individuals of both countries went into krovlandia to try and aid it. when a government official who had been sent in there to try and convince the noardol citizens to return was killed, noardish government pinned the blame on zamertnyj. the pin-ee denied it, of course, and when noardol citizens again fell to the peril of the war, and a small invasion of radical independent zamertnyj/krovlandic revolutionaries attempted to take over a province of noardol, noardish government again blamed zamertnyj [who before the treaty most noardans had distrusted/disliked/etc for years before; the origin for this being that the citizens of zamertnyj were the original inhabitants of northern noardol and had been pushed back, with a few battles, into northern zamertnyj] and eventually war was declared on both sides. for several years this war ensued, eventually swallowing up krovlandia as well. in noardol military technology was far superior than any other in the world; and in fact, far better than any noardian ever would have guessed [military on a level 10-20 years ahead of us, while civilian on a 1930-40's level]. nowadays, of course, the military has cooled and a lot of the technology has actually been lost due to a revolutionary in the government to try and reduce aspects of militarism/fascism. only what seemed to be useful to environmental-safe was kept and improved on. but of course this was far in the future.

etcetc. details continued later like always.

:: 2004 4 April :: 10.15 pm
:: Music: airships

but i don't want to go back wards...

and here we are. was it really fear of plague, or was that just another excuse? [subtle subconsciousness; i will let them do what they will. they don't... act. not often. but i would rather not force them to.]

history confuses; the only possibility is kyuuriku is still feudal, and noardol evolves technology slowly.

:: 2004 4 April :: 12.07 am

kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiiiiiiiiii will spillyou out . fake you out . here i am, all in me. love love. [ga a ra /? we love only ourselves, and that which is in ourselves ]
i am questioning why i love the representation of hate and hate the representation of love. divided from morals, quite opposite, it seems.

bags under horace's eyes. he has such strain. i want to tell his story so badly, i want to make his reality a reality. torn, soiled clothing, he doesn't notice anymore. not many people know what cleanliness is anymore here. cold comfort for change. he clutches the sacred book to himself. they say not to covet, but he has to. he has to want. to not desire something better would be to give in, give up. he imagines he would die without his little things to take care of. and he changed, hated that life and all that came from it; in the epiphany, he tossed out all his belongings from his mind. they had been destroyed anyways... what more could he do....?

take a moment' a moment's notice i take i take he takes we ekwljlwekrelkj we are. live for himself. forget the ideals, only that god is dead.

it was such a change. the experiment killed him inside; killed that small boy with hope and compassion. and all that .and and all and all that remained was death the bringer of death deathbringer deathscaper //
if they only knew the damaged mind they had taken from the utterdestruction. pulled him out; everyone was presumed dead. there was no government anymore there. noardol's attacks had brought it down. and now here, true chaos. in his mind. they took him // they had heard, experimented, realized that all who survived in that place, that nameless country, were stronger than they. and only if they could control the strongest individuals, perhaps they could win against their other rivals.

what. have. they. done. to. me? [is ever the small boy resurrected...?]

:: 2004 2 April :: 2.59 pm

i want death through you.
taking me apart, pulling off my limbs.

i am naive we are all naive i have had no death so i long for it. i have nothing which others have in abundance. i refuse love of any kind; i refuse hate and yet embrace it; meanings created by others are meaningless, and yet when created by self are just as bad.
being ancient is something i could never imagine; i am so young, so young. how can i imagine age when i have had but a mere taste of a taste? i want to see history collapse and crumble into itself, but alas, i fear that this desire itself will collapse the moment i face my inevitable death.

i am nothing, i am so little, i am so nothing; i know nothing i can teach nothing i am made of nothing and then through that through that i have made illusions that i somehow have created something, some one, more than one; i could create thousands and in the end they would all be me in base of essence. because that is what their essence is, in the long run -- their creator.

creator wishes for death
death
smile upon me, i only want moon's face forever. beauty uninterrupted, final consciousness wiped away.

i me myself and nothing, embodied; falsities and change [things i'll never taste] funny how life is.

fuck, if i were only like them like them maybe this would be better, you knowyousee? blindman? grins and grins. dreamscaper, rescue once again; prove my worthlessness to those around me.
i cannot judge my worth on those who know me or those who think they do or those who do not, for worth itself is an illusion. [only when man loses everything is he free to do anything.]

i am so clean i dry up and scrape away. i am so clean i turn into dirt itself.

:: 2004 1 April :: 11.48 pm
:: Music: vnvn

he stands, alone, the filthy sanctity around. death in his hands, dead child in his arms. and there is water, pure, resolute; this worship... so ironic, so despicable, so hypocritical. he is a last survivor. this war will never end. God will never come back.
so it is true, what the false goddess, the prophet, the eternity had said -- 'the god you wish to be here, to help us all...? he is dead. more likely he does not exist. your pleas will have no answer.'
and the dead child in his arms, free of pain now. his priest collar chafed him. there was blood everywhere, and the sanctified water had been spilled, dirtied, lost.
the wars never ended, not between these countries. they were so similar in so many respects, and yet they hated each other so. tore at each other's throats, slaughtered their civilians. the reasons were barely anything anymore. vengeance, perhaps; or alliances betrayed. they always found something. it was just hate at the root of it, really.
he always watched. always loathed it, pitied the consumed. could do nothing but try and heal the wounded. and now even that had failed.
perhaps it was truly god's wish. he should stop healing to let them die. dying was freedom, dying was release from pain and suffering.
God wanted death.
he regretted his life and this, for all the pain.
and so He died; and so should we.

the darkness came, the child's body fell from his hands and he was on his knees, church falling to ruin around him. ah, everything was death, everything came to ruin in the end.
and he saw he was to fulfill God's last wish -- end the lives of the living.

and so horace was found by the noardish scientists; enhanced, physically and mentally. he was already psychologically unstable, and their brainwashings just sent him deeper, further.
death to all
death to all
death to all
end their suffering; end the lives of those who have caused suffering.

it is merely my duty.

:: 2004 1 April :: 12.16 pm

At first light lay proud foundations.
Sense the greatness that before you unfolds.
Seek no more for hollow answers.
Answers that lay within you all along.
Farewell to dawns seen through saddened eyes.
Farewell to pasts to sorrows chained.
Forget your fears and want no more.
You will be strong and want no more.
You'll be adored. You will have everything.
You will be strong and want no more.
Forget your fears. You will have everything.
And want no more.

~constance, in her last moments. when she ceases to exist as a being, what will become of time? will it be allowed to flow forever uninterrupted, as it is now?
possibly this planet in the far past; for they say our existence is merely a blink of an eye. why can theirs not be a blink before ours?

"...before you unfold."
dreamscaper gives me her shadoweyes, tired repetitions-- a mechanism, automatic, while she attends to other things. i am reckoning she is far more powerful and effective than she would ever admit. she affects them, affects their desicions; she is their sleep goddess, too. after all, whatever is in me, is in them also.

:: 2004 1 April :: 1.05 am
:: Music: portishead / allmine

but she's mine, you see? you can't use her, you can't take her, you can't say she's everything about you because SHE'S NOT YOU. I made her, I killed her, I brought her back to fucking life. resurrected the closest thing to happiness i think i'll know.. and then you-- someone i barely know-- you just... without even knowing how much it means to me that she's mine, compare her to yourself.
no.
just... no.

i want to see them, as they flow; to know what it is like to be truly immortal. follow a lifeline through several stories of shorter lifelines... two, and then more.

abridging sleep and waking, i see what happens with such clarity....
she was scheming again.
the parasite; it is not her, love is not her, she is just goodness, something else. the parasite takes her over and makes her obsess, think, track this one thing, gives her adrenaline rushes, and causes mental pain.
rek mistook the parasite for her. well, i couldn't blame her. she took the axe and beheaded her in her sleep. oh, rosewen, your death was swift.
and then the impossible, the unforseen; as rek watched, the parasite pulled itself towards the body; reconnected the head to the severed spine, neck, body. rosewen coughs; what is going on? there is blood all over, she doesn't feel well. in her disorientedness, she looks up. rek is there, astounded, axe in hand; all blood all over, covered in it, red flowing, dripping down, staining her, rusting the steel slowly. her blood.
lets loose a shreik, doesn't understand.

blacks out.

wakes up and it was only a dream.
but it wasn't a dream.... the scars on her neck can attest to that.

:: 2004 30 March :: 8.46 pm

duuuuude, stainskin?

do they leap minds, or is it just a transfer of essence? [perhaps why there's no real alwaysalways consciousness of them all] ungh. one origination is the original origin af allt.

i feel sorry.

:: 2004 30 March :: 1.11 am
:: Music: neon ray - lunatic calm

what is it? because she's cute? pretty? raver? who knows? it's a mystery to me, too.
but maybe she deserves popularity. after all, she went through a lot for someone who has strived to make her life as simple as possible. [or maybe she's just the ideal anthro. :/ ]

palms, palms, we are not destiny readers. our souls change bodies but we are on nothing like a linear plane; we just go on. eien ni.

:: 2004 29 March :: 12.13 am
:: Music: track 06[insect]

third start, getting old fast.

serconi�-- means 'blood tear'. elven vampire. this particular girl prefers not to devour the entire blood of a victim-- she thinks she gets too 'out of control'. so she usually just lets them bleed a bit before feasting.
elven vampires have the potential to be pretty formidable; not only do they have senses increased moreso than they were before, they become incredibly strong, and in most, telepathy also appears [or increases by a large amount]. they're extremely rare, though, as a vampire has to be very strong in order to catch an elf off-guard.

she doesn't like being a vampire.

she was ill, with a darkness; that is how her maker caught her. [she will never leave that darkness now.] he drained her blood, but being an elf, she retained strength to the last moments, so tore open his flesh and took her blood back. unfortunately the result was she became the same as him. holding him in contempt, she drained him completely and left him to the sun. [possibly elven vampires can stand sunlight?]

an immortal immortal. the beautiful of the beautiful. and the dangerous of any which hold danger. [they feed on humans, dirty blood, sometimes 'holy' animals {wolves, big cats, etc} because true elven blood is so hard, oh so hard to get. but being an elven vampire, it's easier than human vampires.]

but she would cut you open, if it were necessary. red-haired fiend.

:: 2004 27 March :: 11.45 pm
:: Music: scream [fly dream]

inverted in out in out there's no green there. [there is no green in where |wherein| she lies]

In your dream you see me clear
I have no restraint, no fear
Powerless I watched from faces I'd assumed.
My purpose set. My will defined.
Caress the air.
Embrace the skies.
Escape the sorrow and restraint of mortal cities.
Give me time I will be clear.
Given time you'll understand
What possesses me to right what you have suffered.
I'm in this mood because of scorn.
I'm in a mood for total war.
To the darkened skies once more and ever onward.
So many years I stood among the thoughts
and tears of those I served.
Among my own I was alone through my own doing.
All the years I walked unknown
behind the faces I assumed.
Powerless to clear your mind of what you'd suffered.
They fall again.
They fall again.
Give me time I will be clear.
Given time you'll understand
What possesses me to right what you have suffered.
I'm in this mood because of scorn.
I'm in a mood for total war.
To the darkened skies once more and ever onward.
There is no faith in which to hide.
Even truth is filled with lies.
Doubting angels fall to walk among the living.
I'm in this mood because of scorn.
I'm in a mood for total war.
To the darkened skies once more and ever onward.
I'd only come here seeking peace.
I'd only come here seeking me.
It seems I came to leave.

if constance were ever in a war -- and knowing the extent of her life, i doubt she hasn't -- this would be her.
and if, in this war, in a battle, if she were ever to become aware of her 'true self', then oh, what power she could acheive. undeniable strength. if you do not run within the constraints of time, what can you do but run to victory?
and she hides she hid behind masks, names, every generation is a new falsity. what must it be like? if every several decades, you become someone else for a short period of time? would you keep these people? do the 'bodies' die when she arises? do they become part of you? do they become 'holy', for they house the soul of a goddess?
whyfore will thy not tell...?

:: 2004 26 March :: 11.26 am
:: Music: queremos paz

'imagine what this place will be like in fifty years...' suzy settled back on the grass, staring blankly at the greyish sky.
'that's a round number... why not forty-seven years and two months and thirteen days?' beatrice replied. 'and this place... this place will hardly change. the trees will grow larger and the plants will die and live again... but it will seem the same. well, that is unless the noardols come....'
'are you suggesting war, beatrice?'
'i should ask the same of you...' the girl in question remarked. suddenly she felt a bit like the offender, and blushed slightly from shame; luckily for her it wasn't much visible under the thin layer of fur which covered her face.
'i.... don't much get those dreams anymore, bea.' suzy looked away, back at the sky. it had been a while since anything like a premonition had occured to her at all. since she did not much like them, this did not bother her much; but the change of self, and a change she didn't see coming... that did bother her.
'i want a war, suzy.' beatrice's tone surprised her out of a subtle daydream. she seemed almost angry. suzy knew her enough to not bother her when she was in a mode such as this. '...it doesn't seem unlike you.' she replied, soft-spoken.
'i want those noardols.... i wish they'd learn, i wish they knew what they were really doing. do you think they do? even so, do you think they care? i mean, all they want is... is selfish.. those.. just greed, it's just greed...!'
and do you think that tribes are free of greed, beatrice? suzy thought to herself. she knew the answer-- bea would say something like, 'well, they do have greed, but it's not to the extent of the noardols...' they were always the enemy... and because suzy had had little contact with any foreigners from the eastern continent, it didn't seem as if anyone could be such a way. then again, she remembered, they are a different species. as is beatrice.
but somehow, our origins are the same. a voice in the dark; vague and familiar. realizations.
'i tried to start a war, you know... and i merely was exiled from that i was trying to protect.' beatrice tore at the grass, clawing at it, yet not ripping a single blade out of the ground. 'why doesn't anyone understand..??'
'they understand, beatrice... that you were trying to protect them. it's just... you know... when bad things happen, tribes and clans have different ways of dealing with it. you're lucky you weren't born into a clan that advocated a life for a life.' suzy muttered to her, voice soft yet firm.
bea looked at the grass, blades between her fingers. oh, these blades couldn't cut her. not like she'd cut those traders only two years ago.
'i'm sorry for what i did, i really am...' her words were broken, soft, out of character. 'i just want to go back home.'
all suzy had to offer was a gentle smile and comforting words. 'i know, bea. i know.'