OOC wrote:The following is a digital copy of Tierney's journal kept in an encrypted file on her laptop. There may also be photos or other sort of things regarding her development kept in one place. None of this may be used without my permission, thank you!
October 3rd, 2017
Mood - Poets of the Fall
Mood - Poets of the Fall
Time. It's the easiest thing to control in one's life when it comes to business. Don't like how it's going, speed up your progress by getting help. Going too fast? Take a break. I notice that some always wish to slow down their aging, they buy all of the herbs and potions regardless of the price. I could simply sell someone a collection of dirt - I won't, because mother would kill me in my sleep if I tried, but there isn't much that can be done about a wrinkle or two without injecting botox into one's face. I watch the timeless ones that pass in front of my windows, though, the vampires. Fangers, as some call them - a ridiculous term, really.
I watch the papers, the online forums. Some go on about religion being their cause, but for all that is known, it could be a false lead. Vampires posing as humans, trying to rile up each side. It works on some level. You can see where people become more and more uneasy in the streets when the timeless ones pass around. I see guests in the hotel across the street shift and look behind them into the shadows. Mother sells them garlic necklaces, tablets to put into their meals. Hoaxes, but other than a select few, they won't remember being bitten.
It's a pleasant sensation. One that resonates through ones body, an addicting sensation. Until you remember the tingle, that glimpse of hunger before their fangs pierce into the flesh. Mother claims that the memories fade. I see her scarred arms that she tries to hide with makeup and long sleeves. She's been out again. There's a consciousness act to going out that she doesn't realize, how bleeding for the vermin isn't something that should happen. She heals herself before father sees it. He would call her a blood whore, even if they are happily together. Vampires and sorcerers, blood thieves, paladin. None of us mix.
Don't feed into their cause, Tierney.
He urges me this every evening as I count down the till, as I wipe down the countertop where different sorts of dust have collected all day. I keep myself busy as he hums old rhymes from his home country to himself. Soothing melodies that almost allow one to believe that everything will be okay, that the dark times will not return. When the shop closes, we go out to the forest near the river. A clearing where the fae cannot be seen, but eyes are felt on my back as I practice with my firearm.
Keep a steady shot, don't miss. It could cost you.
Every night. Any night. It doesn't matter if there's rain, fog or sleet. He wants me prepared, he wants me to learn to shoot with gloves on. We train in martial arts, and in my down time, I practice with my scripts. Hacking, running programs. I look after my garden. I listen to them talk about the chance that our ancestors wrote about the timeless ones in the past. They think I don't pay any mind to them when I sit at the table, doing my school work and have headphones in, but its often when my headphones are in that they choose to speak freely. That she tries to tell him that I'm not ready, that I need to continue on in my studies.
That I'm just a girl, not meant to be a fighter.
She'll either fight to survive, or die a coward.[/font]
