Written By Isolde
March 5, 2017, 3:29 p.m.(1/14/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Eirene
I rather like this woman. She's got a way about her that inspires one to greatness. And to drink, but in the most delightful way. She's refreshing, and I do so hope this whole mess will see us become fast friends. Or at least good drinking buddies. A girl could use more of those.
Written By Isolde
March 5, 2017, 3:28 p.m.(1/14/1006 AR)
That which sets its hand against us will burn in righteous fire.
Or I'll tear it's fucking throat out with my teeth.
Either way, I'm appeased.
Or I'll tear it's fucking throat out with my teeth.
Either way, I'm appeased.
Written By Isolde
March 5, 2017, 3:25 p.m.(1/14/1006 AR)
A Memorial, a joyous affair.
It still feels strange. Neither Mother's, nor yours feel like closure. There's just too much to be done.
I've been trying to put words to my thoughts for so long, I fear the things arrayed against us don't need to bother with me. My mind is scattered enough for us all.
I miss you. I'm rather cross at you, but I'll get over that, once I write my own story.
I love you.
It still feels strange. Neither Mother's, nor yours feel like closure. There's just too much to be done.
I've been trying to put words to my thoughts for so long, I fear the things arrayed against us don't need to bother with me. My mind is scattered enough for us all.
I miss you. I'm rather cross at you, but I'll get over that, once I write my own story.
I love you.
Written By Isolde
March 2, 2017, 6:29 p.m.(1/8/1006 AR)
Blessed art thou, Reflection, Dark that gives shade.
Blessed are those that embrace thee.
Blessed are we, who tremble before thee, yet take up thy mantle.
Blessed be, oh Thirteenth.
May we earn thy blessings in truth.
Blessed are those that embrace thee.
Blessed are we, who tremble before thee, yet take up thy mantle.
Blessed be, oh Thirteenth.
May we earn thy blessings in truth.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 26, 2017, 9:43 p.m.(12/28/1005 AR)
"I hereby name you, Brand, Minister of Bringing."
You heard it in his voice, Didn't you Deva? It's in the Journals now. You can't escape it.
You heard it in his voice, Didn't you Deva? It's in the Journals now. You can't escape it.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 25, 2017, 11:05 a.m.(12/26/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Mydas
Lord Mydas Nightgold is not one I've encountered, likely for various reasons, but perhaps, it is only in the shadow of tragedy that meaningful discourse could be had. He joined in a lively discussion on the nature of the Thirteenth with Lord Percephon and me, and brought unique and utterly impressive perspectives that forced me to think outside my comfort zone. He's not someone to be discounted easily, I think, and his conversation and debate was respectful, powerful, and a delight to engage in. It is my hope that we will have many more in the future. A refreshing day, overall, to find my mind enraptured by thought exercises and the reexamining of my beliefs. I feel all the stronger for it.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 25, 2017, 10:57 a.m.(12/26/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Cassius
Duke Cassius and I would have little reason to converse these days, I think, but, a random chance encounter in the Shrine of the Thirteenth proved that unlikely companions can find a measure of begrudging comfort in one another. Both of us, struck by deep tragedy, found connection in fanatic faith. We have -very- different perspectives on many topics, but can look upon the other's, understand why we might hold those views, and be cordial in our disagreement. His fanaticism presents itself in far different ways than mine - though, I suppose that is only natural when one is martial and the other socially minded - but we both agree on the need for the gods themselves. I look forward to more conversations with him, and sincerely hope that feeling is mutual.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 25, 2017, 10:53 a.m.(12/26/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Percephon
Lord Percephon Telmar and I first encountered each other in a whirlwind of activity in Illusions. We finally re-met, for the first meeting could barely be labeled as such, in the Shrine of the Thirteenth. The man has a keen philosophical mind, that asked challenging questions with an enthusiasm to hear honest responses, and rethink his position when presented with logical arguments that may have run counter to his original beliefs. Good gods, is the man a refreshing soul, and we desperately need more of his like in the city. I would no more turn down another conversation with him, than I would turn down a drink of water on a blistering day, or a fur blanket in the depths of winter.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 19, 2017, 9:21 p.m.(12/14/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Caelis
Lady Caelis Malvici, fine woman, fine sailor, fine conversationalist. I dare say I shall keep her for my very own. Perhaps I should have left that in the Black. Oops.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 16, 2017, 10:37 a.m.(12/8/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Niccolo
My father.
Few men have endured as much. Few men have lost as much. No man has come through with the strength, grace, and stability like my father.
I can never be my father. But I am lucky to have him. We are lucky to have him.
I've never been the best daughter, not by far. He'd claim he was never the best father, but he'd be humbly lying to himself. Esera was always meant to lead. My destiny lay elsewhere, and when I donned the mask, it became clear to me. But my father has been unwavering in his devotion to me, my siblings, to the Lyceum, to Velenosa. I could not ask for anyone better.
No one will support my father more than me, believe in him more than me. I dare anyone to try, but I will be the best daughter I can be. I definitely have a head start.
May all the gods of the pantheon bless him, my father, Archduke Niccolo Velenosa.
Few men have endured as much. Few men have lost as much. No man has come through with the strength, grace, and stability like my father.
I can never be my father. But I am lucky to have him. We are lucky to have him.
I've never been the best daughter, not by far. He'd claim he was never the best father, but he'd be humbly lying to himself. Esera was always meant to lead. My destiny lay elsewhere, and when I donned the mask, it became clear to me. But my father has been unwavering in his devotion to me, my siblings, to the Lyceum, to Velenosa. I could not ask for anyone better.
No one will support my father more than me, believe in him more than me. I dare anyone to try, but I will be the best daughter I can be. I definitely have a head start.
May all the gods of the pantheon bless him, my father, Archduke Niccolo Velenosa.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 11, 2017, 5:07 p.m.(11/26/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Victus
All good things come to an end, they say.
All bad things do, as well, though.
If you had told me I'd enjoy a pleasant dinner with Victus Thrax, I'd have laughed in your face, until today.
The world really did turn upside down, didn't it?
All bad things do, as well, though.
If you had told me I'd enjoy a pleasant dinner with Victus Thrax, I'd have laughed in your face, until today.
The world really did turn upside down, didn't it?
Written By Isolde
Feb. 11, 2017, 11:32 a.m.(11/26/1005 AR)
It's been a few days... I dare not jinx anything.
Peace. Hope. Joy. Rapture.
Blessed be.
Peace. Hope. Joy. Rapture.
Blessed be.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 8, 2017, 10:41 p.m.(11/20/1005 AR)
Grief is the strangest of the Passions to me. It always becomes anger, hate, fear, it's never it's own separate force, it's own beast that seeks to claw itself from my heart to overtake my mind. Over the past few weeks, however, I began to truly understand how insidious Grief is, and how for even the practiced Mirrormask, can be a danger, if not controlled.
Grief does not burn hot, consuming the heart and mind. It is not cold, an ice that freezes or snaps. The only metaphor I can attribute would be poison. Deadly poison, undetectable in most ways, that works its way through the body, wrapping around the heart, squeezing ever so slightly, but constantly, until one can't remember how it should feel, only the way it feels with those bands about it.
It snakes up into the mind, after curling those soft bands around the throat, applying pressure, to be sure, but trapping words, twisting them, making it so what one thinks and what one says are so very slightly out of harmony, until one is not sure of their own state. It wraps about the ears, like thorny vines, twisting the words coming in as quiet, as subtle as those that flow through the lips. It distorts just enough until one's own mind cripples, isolates, destroys trust and reason.
Make no mistake, Grief is a Passion, like any other... it can be controlled, used, made to serve one instead of being strangled and suffocated. It is a darkness we all feel at some point in our lives, and can turn the saintly into sinners, even before it reaches the depths of despair. One must be careful with it, however... to much force, too much brute strength of will only scatters it, leaves it lingering to infect once that pressure is lessened. Too little and it slimes its way out of the grasp, choking harder in retribution of one's defiance.
I have learned, for me, at least, Grief is not something to tackle alone. Certainly only my own will can truly own it, use it, but it takes others -- a Father, a Brother, a Sister, More than one Friend, a Love -- to give the grounding necessary to overcome the bitch. Only by those that stand with me, can I take a full breath, see the colors painted in the world. Bit by bit, I burn away the Grief that clouds my mind, that strangles my voice. Bit by bit, I transform the cracks in my heart that will never heal, into something beautiful, a work of art painted in gold, making me, not whole, but transformed. Filling the fractures that will ever remain, with precious love, warmth, affection, community, and making me better for it. Grief is not a path to strength, I think, at least not for me... instead, it is a path to a transformed outlook, a way to remind me that the world is beautiful for the people around me, and worth being better for.
It is a different kind of strength I am used to wielding, but perhaps, given time, practice, and those around me, it will be the greatest strength I have ever known. Maybe this is what she saw when she looked at me, this piece of art, vibrant, treasure, strong. I'll keep working on it.
Grief does not burn hot, consuming the heart and mind. It is not cold, an ice that freezes or snaps. The only metaphor I can attribute would be poison. Deadly poison, undetectable in most ways, that works its way through the body, wrapping around the heart, squeezing ever so slightly, but constantly, until one can't remember how it should feel, only the way it feels with those bands about it.
It snakes up into the mind, after curling those soft bands around the throat, applying pressure, to be sure, but trapping words, twisting them, making it so what one thinks and what one says are so very slightly out of harmony, until one is not sure of their own state. It wraps about the ears, like thorny vines, twisting the words coming in as quiet, as subtle as those that flow through the lips. It distorts just enough until one's own mind cripples, isolates, destroys trust and reason.
Make no mistake, Grief is a Passion, like any other... it can be controlled, used, made to serve one instead of being strangled and suffocated. It is a darkness we all feel at some point in our lives, and can turn the saintly into sinners, even before it reaches the depths of despair. One must be careful with it, however... to much force, too much brute strength of will only scatters it, leaves it lingering to infect once that pressure is lessened. Too little and it slimes its way out of the grasp, choking harder in retribution of one's defiance.
I have learned, for me, at least, Grief is not something to tackle alone. Certainly only my own will can truly own it, use it, but it takes others -- a Father, a Brother, a Sister, More than one Friend, a Love -- to give the grounding necessary to overcome the bitch. Only by those that stand with me, can I take a full breath, see the colors painted in the world. Bit by bit, I burn away the Grief that clouds my mind, that strangles my voice. Bit by bit, I transform the cracks in my heart that will never heal, into something beautiful, a work of art painted in gold, making me, not whole, but transformed. Filling the fractures that will ever remain, with precious love, warmth, affection, community, and making me better for it. Grief is not a path to strength, I think, at least not for me... instead, it is a path to a transformed outlook, a way to remind me that the world is beautiful for the people around me, and worth being better for.
It is a different kind of strength I am used to wielding, but perhaps, given time, practice, and those around me, it will be the greatest strength I have ever known. Maybe this is what she saw when she looked at me, this piece of art, vibrant, treasure, strong. I'll keep working on it.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 6, 2017, 11:34 p.m.(11/14/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Esera
Gods of the Pantheon, I beg of thee,
Mangata -- Embrace her, for she burned bright as the sun, captivated tides with her smile.
Petrichor -- Keep her, for she bloomed as vividly as you paint the world in the colors of nature.
Lagoma -- Cherish her, for her fire magnifies, and change cometh.
Vellichor -- Remember her, that the world may never forget her.
Gloria -- Honor her, for her honor saved us all.
Jayus -- Sing of her, for her dreams were those of a whole people, her beauty a wonder.
Limerance -- Love her, for she so loved the world, she gave of herself.
Sentinel -- Judge her rightly, for no mortal finds perfection, but her soul is fire and light for the good of us all.
Gild -- Treasure her, for we are poorer for her absence.
The Thirteenth, my heart, my soul, she belongs to you now, and you have all of me in your keeping. Let her light and darkness fill our world, and we know strength through her.
Gods above, below, beyond, I beg of thee, hear a sister's prayer, and embrace her once more, accepted into your arms. May the gift of her service honor you and inspire your people to greatness.
Mangata -- Embrace her, for she burned bright as the sun, captivated tides with her smile.
Petrichor -- Keep her, for she bloomed as vividly as you paint the world in the colors of nature.
Lagoma -- Cherish her, for her fire magnifies, and change cometh.
Vellichor -- Remember her, that the world may never forget her.
Gloria -- Honor her, for her honor saved us all.
Jayus -- Sing of her, for her dreams were those of a whole people, her beauty a wonder.
Limerance -- Love her, for she so loved the world, she gave of herself.
Sentinel -- Judge her rightly, for no mortal finds perfection, but her soul is fire and light for the good of us all.
Gild -- Treasure her, for we are poorer for her absence.
The Thirteenth, my heart, my soul, she belongs to you now, and you have all of me in your keeping. Let her light and darkness fill our world, and we know strength through her.
Gods above, below, beyond, I beg of thee, hear a sister's prayer, and embrace her once more, accepted into your arms. May the gift of her service honor you and inspire your people to greatness.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 4, 2017, 9:12 p.m.(11/7/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Darren
I found Elysia in your eyes, the Abyss in your absence. My world brightens by your existence, even if my destiny takes me elsewhere.
You're still pretty all right, though. I guess.
*some of the ink is smudged, as if drops of water dotted it before the ink dried completely. It's left like that.*
You're still pretty all right, though. I guess.
*some of the ink is smudged, as if drops of water dotted it before the ink dried completely. It's left like that.*
Written By Isolde
Feb. 3, 2017, 1:24 p.m.(11/3/1005 AR)
No godless heathen will ever truly be the Voice if the Gods. If it is true, I hope justice looks something like a nightmare for him - an eternity of truth he cannot escape, nor effect in any way.
He wanted me in Fireweave. I want him masked and silent, by my side, so he can not escape the inexplicable truths of the Faith he reviled.
He wanted me in Fireweave. I want him masked and silent, by my side, so he can not escape the inexplicable truths of the Faith he reviled.
Written By Isolde
Feb. 3, 2017, 1:18 p.m.(11/3/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Gabriel
Duke Gabriel. What can be said about the closest thing we had to a legend, until the world turned upside down? I finally got a chance to meet him, and, after the worst of my giddy awe wore off, he gave me something I haven't had in a long time, and desperately craved - Hope. Hope for the Compact, hope for myself, hope that we can simply succeeded. He is a good man, and I hope once more.
Written By Isolde
Jan. 31, 2017, 6:37 p.m.(10/23/1005 AR)
The Light, and I your Shadow
Admiration, Awe untold.
I could always see the tears unshed,
And the joys restrained.
I knew how you loved.
Wished I could be all you never
Realized you were.
And now a Shadow has no Light.
Formless, lost, bound, gagged, trapped.
Every flower whispers your name,
Every jewel sparkles with your grace.
The best part of me,
Dimmed with the loss of your Light.
Written By Isolde
Jan. 30, 2017, 1:32 p.m.(10/20/1005 AR)
The Faith killed my sister.
I am torn to shreds, everything I believe, everything I know wars within me.
Tehom, for I write thy name boldly, keep me whole.
My sister is dead. I can't breathe. It should have been me, not her. Her light, so bright, it is gone from the world. I do not know if I will ever see again, breathe again.
It's quiet uptown.
I am torn to shreds, everything I believe, everything I know wars within me.
Tehom, for I write thy name boldly, keep me whole.
My sister is dead. I can't breathe. It should have been me, not her. Her light, so bright, it is gone from the world. I do not know if I will ever see again, breathe again.
It's quiet uptown.
Written By Isolde
Jan. 29, 2017, 11:13 a.m.(10/16/1005 AR)
There are good people left in the city. I hold them close to my heart. I cannot lose anyone else, and all of my strength will go to their protection. It's what she would want of me, wherever she is.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.