05-07-2022, 10:26 AM
People, I suppose, mean little to me. The more I remember, the less, I realize, I care.
I still feel the burn on my eye that kid gave me. Impassively; he botched a kill shot. I should have died. But, impassively nonetheless. No lasting harm meant. He'd gone for my neck, I think. So it's a good thing I always keep my head straight to my body. That low stance I take is the only reason I'm alive. But, he missed. And he recognized his fault. Like a faulty guillotine, here I walk, a reminder of his failure. An impassive fate he meant to deliver; the way any war is fought, and the way I was raised to kill. And yet I'd kill him if I had the chance. I don't care how unfairly, how petty; I'd kill him in a heartbeat, out of spite.
So, I don't care about other people. I refuse to believe I can; I abandoned Lythaniel. Without so much as a goodbye. Dropped him, my promises to him, the bathhouse; everything. As if it meant nothing. It must've, if I dropped it so easily. I left him in New Tannen and deserted. Hell, I left this.. Place, altogether. Put a good bit of my funds into trying to get to Sheng. Figured, somehow, anybody'd be better off without me here.
Didn't like what I met. Almost died again. A running theme with me, I find. A rather pressing one at that, and the reason I'm here again. Some pale, blind fool stumbling around the Osrona-Tannen border. I liked the cloak New Tannen hands out as part of the uniform, so I blacked out the insignia to wear it around like normal. But... I wonder if that Mik.. Mikhael, or something; I wonder if that guy followed up. Wonder if I'd get killed on sight. Wonder if Lythaniel's there to do it. Wouldn't that be poetic? Maybe it should happen like that. He's probably stronger than me now, anyway. I'd be a burden if he took pity and a bug if he didn't. But I'll tell him he'll never be good enough anyway. Tell him he's too slow, like I used to. Maybe that'll clear his conscience. I had to be some sort of sociopath.
I've stopped recording my memories. Partly because I don't really want to remember, and partly because I can't be bothered to. Things lack weight; they don't feel important. Nothing matters to me. The extent of my life is continuing to be alive. Nothing matters. I hate it.
I would, at this point, consider my amnesia the result of my near-death experience fleeing from Sheng. Where I stood for the first time is likely where I collapsed from pain. Why the amnesia; I can only assume some attempt from a higher power to piss me off. And it worked, so I can't much say anything. That is to say, I doubt it would happen again. There seem to be selective ways of inducing amnesia through alchemy, so perhaps magic or something of the like is to blame. I can't say I really care about that, either.
I was a nicer person when I didn't remember anything; it's a shame people got attached to that.
I don't really care about people. I wasn't raised to. It'd be counterintuitive to do so.
And yet the more I remember, the less I like who I am. Offered a taste, perhaps, of what it's like to be a normal person; I can't say I hated that. But it's not something I should have, and I'm not something they should deal with. Some sort of vile, possessive thing. Despicable, and violent.
I still feel the burn on my eye that kid gave me. Impassively; he botched a kill shot. I should have died. But, impassively nonetheless. No lasting harm meant. He'd gone for my neck, I think. So it's a good thing I always keep my head straight to my body. That low stance I take is the only reason I'm alive. But, he missed. And he recognized his fault. Like a faulty guillotine, here I walk, a reminder of his failure. An impassive fate he meant to deliver; the way any war is fought, and the way I was raised to kill. And yet I'd kill him if I had the chance. I don't care how unfairly, how petty; I'd kill him in a heartbeat, out of spite.
So, I don't care about other people. I refuse to believe I can; I abandoned Lythaniel. Without so much as a goodbye. Dropped him, my promises to him, the bathhouse; everything. As if it meant nothing. It must've, if I dropped it so easily. I left him in New Tannen and deserted. Hell, I left this.. Place, altogether. Put a good bit of my funds into trying to get to Sheng. Figured, somehow, anybody'd be better off without me here.
Didn't like what I met. Almost died again. A running theme with me, I find. A rather pressing one at that, and the reason I'm here again. Some pale, blind fool stumbling around the Osrona-Tannen border. I liked the cloak New Tannen hands out as part of the uniform, so I blacked out the insignia to wear it around like normal. But... I wonder if that Mik.. Mikhael, or something; I wonder if that guy followed up. Wonder if I'd get killed on sight. Wonder if Lythaniel's there to do it. Wouldn't that be poetic? Maybe it should happen like that. He's probably stronger than me now, anyway. I'd be a burden if he took pity and a bug if he didn't. But I'll tell him he'll never be good enough anyway. Tell him he's too slow, like I used to. Maybe that'll clear his conscience. I had to be some sort of sociopath.
I've stopped recording my memories. Partly because I don't really want to remember, and partly because I can't be bothered to. Things lack weight; they don't feel important. Nothing matters to me. The extent of my life is continuing to be alive. Nothing matters. I hate it.
I would, at this point, consider my amnesia the result of my near-death experience fleeing from Sheng. Where I stood for the first time is likely where I collapsed from pain. Why the amnesia; I can only assume some attempt from a higher power to piss me off. And it worked, so I can't much say anything. That is to say, I doubt it would happen again. There seem to be selective ways of inducing amnesia through alchemy, so perhaps magic or something of the like is to blame. I can't say I really care about that, either.
I was a nicer person when I didn't remember anything; it's a shame people got attached to that.
I don't really care about people. I wasn't raised to. It'd be counterintuitive to do so.
And yet the more I remember, the less I like who I am. Offered a taste, perhaps, of what it's like to be a normal person; I can't say I hated that. But it's not something I should have, and I'm not something they should deal with. Some sort of vile, possessive thing. Despicable, and violent.