Written By Perronne
Jan. 10, 2020, 10:45 a.m.(7/15/1012 AR)
I spent several months on the road, and had a number of adventures - which are mostly recorded in the local Archives along the way, because who could wait to put down the most exciting of them? And carrying journals on long journeys is always a dicey proposition; it only takes one good rainstorm for words dedicated to Vellichor to just become a lot of wet sheepskin and ink blobs. Which, really, if you think about it, most writings already are. Maybe not wet. Except metaphorically wet? Is that a thing? What would it be a metaphor for? Melancholy? Wishy-washy? Points to ponder.
But that's not the point! The POINT is that here's something I didn't write down on the journey, but that I've been thinking about since coming back to Arx.
It was deep winter, and we were traversing the passes between the areas that are mostly agreed to be Northern and those mostly agreed to be Oathlands. I'm not gonna say which particulars, because that 'mostly' always starts a fight, and you could see it in those passes. It was easy to stumble upon old graveyards, or lost patrols in a myriad of livery, united in death as they never were in life. We had stopped for a rest on a mountain terrace, scrubbed mostly clean by the wind, and I noticed a gap in the rock face, a deep vertical slash in the stone. Now, it was only barely big enough for me, skinny as I am, but I was bored, and the beasts absolutely needed another few hours rest, at a minimum, so I grabbed a lantern and went exploring. If you've never squeezed yourself into a crevice with a city's worth of stone over your head, smelling the ice and the cold stone, I recommend it! If you wanna know what it's like to be entombed without that tedious 'dying' thing, anyway.
Anyway. I got through, and the crevice opened up into a sort of platform, naturally broken off from some long ago avalanche. It wasn't large, and it was icy; I tied a rope around a rock formation and my waist before stepping out on it and looking out over the sheer drop. The world spread out before me - only a small piece of it, but for a moment it felt like the /whole world/, written in perfect scale, for my eyes only. After the claustrophobic tightness of the crevice, it was doubly immense. I was so small! But, at the same time, I saw /everything/. At once humbling and intoxicating.
And for a moment, the space of a heartbeat (or maybe I should say a space WITHOUT heartbeat, because I swear everything stopped, including such silly things like 'hearts' and 'lungs'), I wanted to jump. Just spread my arms, and leap.
Not to die. I like being alive! The whole thing is pretty neat, and while I could do without blisters, I don't think rotting and desiccating would be an improvement. No, death wasn't on my mind at all. I just wanted to be a PART of that immense sky, and I had the crazy, stupid, wishful thought that if I leapt into the air, that in this place and at this time, the wind wouldn't let me fall. It would lift me up, and I could see everything just as the birds did, or the wind did.
I didn't jump. Obviously. I'm not an idiot. But I cried. They were happy tears, sort of. At least they weren't sad. And then they froze and my eyes hurt like five kinds of nasty, because WINTER does not appreciate DRAMATIC MOMENTS.
But it's worth thinking about, sometimes. What both humbles and exalts you, in your life?
But that's not the point! The POINT is that here's something I didn't write down on the journey, but that I've been thinking about since coming back to Arx.
It was deep winter, and we were traversing the passes between the areas that are mostly agreed to be Northern and those mostly agreed to be Oathlands. I'm not gonna say which particulars, because that 'mostly' always starts a fight, and you could see it in those passes. It was easy to stumble upon old graveyards, or lost patrols in a myriad of livery, united in death as they never were in life. We had stopped for a rest on a mountain terrace, scrubbed mostly clean by the wind, and I noticed a gap in the rock face, a deep vertical slash in the stone. Now, it was only barely big enough for me, skinny as I am, but I was bored, and the beasts absolutely needed another few hours rest, at a minimum, so I grabbed a lantern and went exploring. If you've never squeezed yourself into a crevice with a city's worth of stone over your head, smelling the ice and the cold stone, I recommend it! If you wanna know what it's like to be entombed without that tedious 'dying' thing, anyway.
Anyway. I got through, and the crevice opened up into a sort of platform, naturally broken off from some long ago avalanche. It wasn't large, and it was icy; I tied a rope around a rock formation and my waist before stepping out on it and looking out over the sheer drop. The world spread out before me - only a small piece of it, but for a moment it felt like the /whole world/, written in perfect scale, for my eyes only. After the claustrophobic tightness of the crevice, it was doubly immense. I was so small! But, at the same time, I saw /everything/. At once humbling and intoxicating.
And for a moment, the space of a heartbeat (or maybe I should say a space WITHOUT heartbeat, because I swear everything stopped, including such silly things like 'hearts' and 'lungs'), I wanted to jump. Just spread my arms, and leap.
Not to die. I like being alive! The whole thing is pretty neat, and while I could do without blisters, I don't think rotting and desiccating would be an improvement. No, death wasn't on my mind at all. I just wanted to be a PART of that immense sky, and I had the crazy, stupid, wishful thought that if I leapt into the air, that in this place and at this time, the wind wouldn't let me fall. It would lift me up, and I could see everything just as the birds did, or the wind did.
I didn't jump. Obviously. I'm not an idiot. But I cried. They were happy tears, sort of. At least they weren't sad. And then they froze and my eyes hurt like five kinds of nasty, because WINTER does not appreciate DRAMATIC MOMENTS.
But it's worth thinking about, sometimes. What both humbles and exalts you, in your life?
Written By Eirene
Jan. 10, 2020, 9:17 a.m.(7/14/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Martino
See? Old 'Aunt' Eirene comes to town and makes everything more interesting. Glad to be of service, because those docks can get smelly.
Written By Saya
Jan. 10, 2020, 6:26 a.m.(7/14/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Jaenelle
So mean! To ask a Saya if she is interested in something enough to design a pair of slippers...
Written By Mirari
Jan. 10, 2020, 6:25 a.m.(7/14/1012 AR)
I ask you, dear scholars and readers of the whites, what is love? Define it for me.
Written By Monique
Jan. 10, 2020, 2:08 a.m.(7/14/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Quenia
I had an enlightening and engaging evening at House Igniseri, a dinner whose company could rival any for charm and excellence. Of the many captivating topics discussed, I find myself wishing I knew more about Eidolons. And, too, I find myself grateful to the Marquessa Quenia for her invitation and friendship.
Written By Veronica
Jan. 10, 2020, 1:14 a.m.(7/14/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Jaerith
You will make riverboat parties all the rage.
Written By Mikani
Jan. 10, 2020, 12:11 a.m.(7/14/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Jules
I will get you to love swimming yet.
Written By Jaenelle
Jan. 9, 2020, 7:24 p.m.(7/13/1012 AR)
A work in progress. Something to always strive for, I think, to never allowing yourself to simply settle.
Spidersilk cloth is something that my son was given when he was born. A baby blanket that was so soft and warm, he slept through the night with it clutched around his small form. I have always wished for that feeling to be extended to those that have never had the pleasure of feeling so secure.
Soon. We still have work to do, but soon, and I am so excited for what we will continue to accomplish.
Spidersilk cloth is something that my son was given when he was born. A baby blanket that was so soft and warm, he slept through the night with it clutched around his small form. I have always wished for that feeling to be extended to those that have never had the pleasure of feeling so secure.
Soon. We still have work to do, but soon, and I am so excited for what we will continue to accomplish.
Written By Drusila
Jan. 9, 2020, 6:59 p.m.(7/13/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Strozza
Imagine my surprise when the so called Admiral Strozza of House Mazetti expressed his desire to whip me today. Here I thought it was House Pravus that was supposed to be the house of sin. Some men just can't help themselves can they?
Written By Strozza
Jan. 9, 2020, 6:19 p.m.(7/13/1012 AR)
I am not as it seems envisioned.
A dark reflection of what many consider.
I yet try to be a good man. Watch for hubris, cruelty, or worse.
Seek to embrace bravery. Etiquette and even willingness to weather stones and mud cast at me.
But the fangs of the Hydra sink deep, and we do not strike unless we mean it.
Not all those opposed to the Abyss can be in shining armor.
A dark reflection of what many consider.
I yet try to be a good man. Watch for hubris, cruelty, or worse.
Seek to embrace bravery. Etiquette and even willingness to weather stones and mud cast at me.
But the fangs of the Hydra sink deep, and we do not strike unless we mean it.
Not all those opposed to the Abyss can be in shining armor.
Written By Lucita
Jan. 9, 2020, 5:43 p.m.(7/13/1012 AR)
New shipments of wine have finally arrived. Most are fruit wines, a way for our small holding to compete with the more famous red and white wines of other houses and they are so very good. Now I can fulfill those requests for apple wine and something different that I traded for some touch-up repairs to some sculptures.
Written By Natalia
Jan. 9, 2020, 3:18 p.m.(7/13/1012 AR)
I read through my old journals, today.
It was nearly boggling.
At least my old journals will provide a good object lesson for my children, someday.
It was nearly boggling.
At least my old journals will provide a good object lesson for my children, someday.
Written By Elrych
Jan. 9, 2020, 3:07 p.m.(7/13/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Jenessa
Studios bookworm and scholar. I'd say get out more but who else would do all the reading! I am proud to be your brother soon.
Written By Strozza
Jan. 9, 2020, 11:35 a.m.(7/13/1012 AR)
Eyes in the street.
Watch my back.
Most amusing.
Watch my back.
Most amusing.
Written By Thea
Jan. 9, 2020, 9:22 a.m.(7/12/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Martino
The words that come out of my mouth are just fine. I get the ones from yours wont be the moment we step on the boat. Dont worry, I'm sure one of us will save you from drowning.
Written By Martino
Jan. 9, 2020, 8:22 a.m.(7/12/1012 AR)
The first time that I have been able to attend the Bisland Grand Ball was a delight. Last time, well another took the place of escorting the Little Boss Lady of Pridehall - but Kaia's recovery saw her fit enough to attend.
But to have seen Her Majesty, those around and delightful friends from across the Compact reminds me always of the good side of our City.
Lord Michael did well.
But to have seen Her Majesty, those around and delightful friends from across the Compact reminds me always of the good side of our City.
Lord Michael did well.
Written By Lisebet
Jan. 9, 2020, 8:14 a.m.(7/12/1012 AR)
The Bisland ball was wonderful. I met some interesting people there and enjoyed dancing. I do love to dance. Perhaps we should host our own ball one of these days.
Written By Eirene
Jan. 8, 2020, 6:24 p.m.(7/11/1012 AR)
Within hours of my ship docking, I was requested to assist with experimentation on some shit which is not wholly natural. This was the kind of thing I missed about Arx, using my skills for the sake of the Compact and our allies. Sometimes I wonder why I left, then other times it's perfectly clear why I left and I wonder why in the Abyss I ever came back. But then I look at my kids and I go 'Oh yeah, I want them to have a future.'
Written By Sparte
Jan. 8, 2020, 6:16 p.m.(7/11/1012 AR)
Someone told me, recently, that what we do shapes us. I had argued that a half-truth, that a thing done must have our heart in it to really change who we are. I used the paperwork I do as an example. I take no joy nor pride in my need to do rote paperwork, I do it out of duty, not passion.
They countered my argument. If my frequent use of the pen does not shape me, then why do I write as I do? Why have I spent so much time putting my thoughts to paper, using words wet by ink instead of my own tongue to find the truth of things?
On my shelf, here at the Barracks, rests my journal from where I came to Arx. It was the one I brought with me, from the Fatchforth Farm. There isn't a great archive there, the binding is simple, but the pages sturdy. I reread my entries as a junior guardsmen, and it is so very strange to do. I can hear the voice as I read it, my voice, but so young. Thoughts both simpler and more pure.
I chose never to shelve it in the Archives out of nostalgia. Because it reminded me of things.
Today, it reminds me I always have something new I can learn about myself.
They countered my argument. If my frequent use of the pen does not shape me, then why do I write as I do? Why have I spent so much time putting my thoughts to paper, using words wet by ink instead of my own tongue to find the truth of things?
On my shelf, here at the Barracks, rests my journal from where I came to Arx. It was the one I brought with me, from the Fatchforth Farm. There isn't a great archive there, the binding is simple, but the pages sturdy. I reread my entries as a junior guardsmen, and it is so very strange to do. I can hear the voice as I read it, my voice, but so young. Thoughts both simpler and more pure.
I chose never to shelve it in the Archives out of nostalgia. Because it reminded me of things.
Today, it reminds me I always have something new I can learn about myself.
Written By Miranda
Jan. 8, 2020, 4:55 p.m.(7/11/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Isidora
Everyone needs someone who can design special things for you to make your special day... special.
My someone is very special.
Thank you, Sister-by-Marriage!
My someone is very special.
Thank you, Sister-by-Marriage!
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.