Things of import today that occurred: I delivered three of the four letters that were sent back with me, met the man called Grin and those stupid chickens of his I hate animals, and was given two very special gifts.
I CAN TALK. This is written boldly, in large letters, as if an effort to convey his excitement.
Things today that occurred and hurt in more ways than I wish to admit to anyone: Cadence apologized for her behavior toward me as of late but decided falsely that I do not care for her or her apology, and some strange human woman trailed me, from the Bay where I delivered the Scarlet's letter to his bedmate boyfriend wife? husband? man, all the way to the Lamb's front steps.
As I do not really wish to write on the hateful refuse that stranger spat at me--two separate occasions, no less, in the same evening!--nor wish to dwell on how easily I lose friendships and how very tenuous any of them really are, I will focus on the good things from today.
Meeting Grin was an event in and of itself. The man is built well, for a human, and no amount of dressing down hides it. His hands have tremors that were most noticable when he shared a cigarette with meSEE SCARLET SOME PEOPLE ARE GENEROUS but it was not until I recalled the Scarlet's words on him that I felt anxiety at all.
According to Campion, this man is a collector, mainly of debts. My realization of this fact had me scuttling out of there the moment he finished his reply to the letter I delivered.
During his writing, however, I fear I allowed curiosity to run rampant and spent some time inspecting everything in the wonderful little house he lives in. Grin grew upset with me at first, and I still do not understand why. I was just looking, it was not as if I was going to steal anythingeven though I thought about nicking a few of the nicer weapons.
I admit I spent little time puzzling over his reactions. There was much envy and bitter jealousy for all the things the Scarlet and he have, and I wish I had simply sat still and stared at the floor rather than notice how cozy, how much a home this shack in the Bay is for him, for them. More to hate the Scarlet for, I guess. He left all of this behind. What a fucker.
I left Astarin. Is that the same thing? Am I as stupid as the Scarlet, to give up
The two gifts I received were from Ruepert and Procrastin.
Ruepert, the dear, kept his word about bringing me things to make the loft look less uninhabitable. I am not sure what fist-sized glowing hunks of rock say about me or the place I am staying, but the crystals--all the way from the Un'goro Crater, no less!--were a very sweet gesture and really very beautiful. Almost prettier than the shine of newly minted gold.
I can talk. It is not perfect yet: I sound as if I have a severe cold and I am struggling with not hissing my sibilants. But I can speak!
Procrastin gave me the finished model of the experiment he had promised to try with enchantments. The moments of pain in piercing the remnants of my tongue with the little metal stud are completely surpassed by the elation I know right now.
The darkskin watched the entire thing. I think he was amused at us. He referred to Procrastin's experiment as 'playing dentist' on multiple occasions. At least now, perhaps, he understands why Procrastin was poking around in my mouth the other day with a pencil. I cannot believe how flustered I felt when he made innocent, dry remarks about my lack of gag reflex
I can talk.
There seems to be additional notes written after, likely when some of the initial excitement has worn off for Merosiel to better gather his thoughts.
It feels very peculiar to have the cavity in my mouth filled again after so many years. I keep accidentally biting down on the new tongue, but Procrastin is so very clever.
However he's managed to, he's apparently designed it so that there is not any possibility of physical harm to myself or of accidentally damaging it. Each time I feel the unpleasant sensation of my teeth sinking into the glowing mass that makes up the enchantment, its form disperses and reforms seconds later. It is as if a wind has disturbed a candleflame and briefly caused its shape to gutter.
There is no taste still, of course, as the prosthesis is not designed that way--I doubt even someone as intuitive as he could create something so intricate that would allow true taste and returned sensation. It does not matter. This is enough. More than enough.
Guilt distracted me long enough to not focus on the self-loathing, and so for the first time in a long time, I looked in a mirror. My appearance startled me a little, although not because of the way the false tongue lights up the inside of my mouth, rather as if a swarm of blue firebugs have amassed in my throat to form it. The way my teeth are outlined darkly against this glow looks a little peculiar, I must admit, but it is no brighter nor any less difficult to hide than my the eyeshine elves have, so it will certainly do.
I have lost a lot of weight. My cheekbones are too defined, even for me; my eyes look sunken, their lids bruised; and my neck seems almost fragile, as if a single blow might snap it. When did I let myself get this way?
I CAN TALK. This is written boldly, in large letters, as if an effort to convey his excitement.
Things today that occurred and hurt in more ways than I wish to admit to anyone: Cadence apologized for her behavior toward me as of late but decided falsely that I do not care for her or her apology, and some strange human woman trailed me, from the Bay where I delivered the Scarlet's letter to his
As I do not really wish to write on the hateful refuse that stranger spat at me--two separate occasions, no less, in the same evening!--nor wish to dwell on how easily I lose friendships and how very tenuous any of them really are, I will focus on the good things from today.
Meeting Grin was an event in and of itself. The man is built well, for a human, and no amount of dressing down hides it. His hands have tremors that were most noticable when he shared a cigarette with me
According to Campion, this man is a collector, mainly of debts. My realization of this fact had me scuttling out of there the moment he finished his reply to the letter I delivered.
During his writing, however, I fear I allowed curiosity to run rampant and spent some time inspecting everything in the wonderful little house he lives in. Grin grew upset with me at first, and I still do not understand why. I was just looking, it was not as if I was going to steal anything
I admit I spent little time puzzling over his reactions. There was much envy and bitter jealousy for all the things the Scarlet and he have, and I wish I had simply sat still and stared at the floor rather than notice how cozy, how much a home this shack in the Bay is for him, for them. More to hate the Scarlet for, I guess. He left all of this behind. What a fucker.
The two gifts I received were from Ruepert and Procrastin.
Ruepert, the dear, kept his word about bringing me things to make the loft look less uninhabitable. I am not sure what fist-sized glowing hunks of rock say about me or the place I am staying, but the crystals--all the way from the Un'goro Crater, no less!--were a very sweet gesture and really very beautiful. Almost prettier than the shine of newly minted gold.
I can talk. It is not perfect yet: I sound as if I have a severe cold and I am struggling with not hissing my sibilants. But I can speak!
Procrastin gave me the finished model of the experiment he had promised to try with enchantments. The moments of pain in piercing the remnants of my tongue with the little metal stud are completely surpassed by the elation I know right now.
The darkskin watched the entire thing. I think he was amused at us. He referred to Procrastin's experiment as 'playing dentist' on multiple occasions. At least now, perhaps, he understands why Procrastin was poking around in my mouth the other day with a pencil. I
I can talk.
There seems to be additional notes written after, likely when some of the initial excitement has worn off for Merosiel to better gather his thoughts.
It feels very peculiar to have the cavity in my mouth filled again after so many years. I keep accidentally biting down on the new tongue, but Procrastin is so very clever.
However he's managed to, he's apparently designed it so that there is not any possibility of physical harm to myself or of accidentally damaging it. Each time I feel the unpleasant sensation of my teeth sinking into the glowing mass that makes up the enchantment, its form disperses and reforms seconds later. It is as if a wind has disturbed a candleflame and briefly caused its shape to gutter.
There is no taste still, of course, as the prosthesis is not designed that way--I doubt even someone as intuitive as he could create something so intricate that would allow true taste and returned sensation. It does not matter. This is enough. More than enough.
Guilt distracted me long enough to not focus on the self-loathing, and so for the first time in a long time, I looked in a mirror. My appearance startled me a little, although not because of the way the false tongue lights up the inside of my mouth, rather as if a swarm of blue firebugs have amassed in my throat to form it. The way my teeth are outlined darkly against this glow looks a little peculiar, I must admit, but it is no brighter nor any less difficult to hide than my the eyeshine elves have, so it will certainly do.
I have lost a lot of weight. My cheekbones are too defined, even for me; my eyes look sunken, their lids bruised; and my neck seems almost fragile, as if a single blow might snap it. When did I let myself get this way?
----
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