Post by Spookypatrol [Delia] on Feb 8, 2019 12:08:26 GMT -5
Property of Delia Verlhese Nuvolm
[The date is scribbled in the upper-right hand corner of the page.]
“Tomorrow we set out for the mysterious Twilight Realm. I have been told of its wonders by the Twili Asteri, who has promised a spectacular experience. I had never dreamed of ever experiencing such a foreign world first-hand. Perhaps my voyage out of the Great Sea will prove to be of greater intellectual value than even I had anticipated…”
“More death.”
[Many of the Hylian runes had been crossed out, the proper word failing to manifest on the page. After a few unsuccessful attempts, the journal entry changed course.]
“We will be participating in a full-scale investigation against the Sheikah, Levis. I have never been a witness before, and I am not certain what to expect in this situation… I will do my best to be honest and comply…”
[For several pages, written entries stopped, being taken up entirely by art.]
[Sketches of Twilight flora and fauna sprung from the page, all drawn with a steady and methodical hand. The drawings were accurate down to minor details, all labeled in a foreign dialect of Hylian.]
[One of the pages was indented by a large ink blot that destroyed an original drawing of a twilit flower. The page was slightly torn in the center from careless pressure exerted on the tip of the quill.]
[The date is scribbled in the upper-right hand corner of the page, as with all of her entries.]
[The next several pages are riddled with doodles of various realism, most of the lines jagged as if they had been drawn by a trembling hand. Much of the ink had been allowed to run, and several doodles were rendered indistinguishable by layers of crossed strokes intended to obscure them. The drawings that were visible all had an air of malice, many of them violent in nature. Suddenly, they stopped.]
[The date is scribbled in the upper-right hand corner of the page.]
[The penmanship is quite improved.]
“The Guard, Meduhi... He’s a lovely man, and a lovely kisser. He seems to quite like wine and cheese, too. Perhaps I should invest in some to keep him happy~
[There is a respectable space as though she had put a great deal of thought into the short remainder of the entry.]
I think I might love him…”
“We sat together at Meduhi’s grave today… I… can’t bring myself to see him as anything other than a living, breathing individual. I don’t care what I saw, or what he says… None of that matters. He is here, now. We will get through whatever challenges it brings…”
[The following page was taken up almost entirely by a sketch of the mask of SICARII, reasonably detailed considering her limited time viewing it in detail. It appeared to have left quite an impression.]
“Meduhi is truly wonderful. Despite everything, I don’t think I can thank the gods enough for letting us cross paths.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier.”
“I saw him for the first time today - the man who killed Meduhi. He was… not what I had anticipated…
...I think I upset Meduhi by calling him ‘intriguing.’”
“Tomorrow we set out for the Great Sea! I miss my home so dearly, and I know Meduhi will love it… At least I hope. It’s so different from this Hyrule, but there is so much I wish to share with him. Where to even start? He has to meet my parents, of course… and we’ll need a new place to live, but that shouldn’t be an issue. Windfall surely has some vacancies, and I’m sure my parents can aid us in our search as well.
I want to take him fishing… And he’ll finally get to see a pig, too! I wonder how he’ll feel about it all. I hope he is as excited as I am…”
“I had to perform a dissection for Meduhi’s murderer…”
[The rest of this entry is scratched out. Where notes would have normally been, erratic, aimless lines of ink took their place.]
“How does one describe the sensation of killing? How does one accurately retell everything that goes through the mind, or all of the sights, sounds, smells, and tactile feelings that bombard the senses? How can one keenly express everything to someone who does not share in their sentiment, or understand the rush that comes with an act so commonly detested and villainized? How does one describe an intricate painting to the blind, and expect them to share the emotions that course through those that can see it in exacting detail?
Why couldn't the goddesses have made me blind?”
[The ink on this page is smeared in some places in rings as though tears had spilt and then dried while the ink itself was still wet.]
“The ship crashed, the voyage was a failure. I don’t know what caused it. Damnit, damnit, I don’t know what caused it. We were so close… I wanted to go home. I wanted to show Meduhi my home. Are the goddesses punishing us for what we have done?”
[There is a large timeskip as denoted by her typically-dated page-corner. She appears to have gone several weeks without adding to this particular journal.]
[The following several pages are full of detailed anatomical notes in painstaking detail even beyond earlier entries. Sketches of the cut-open corpses of a human male and a Goron male take up their own pages, followed by a systematic breakdown of their respective innards. Flecks of blood and a smeared palm-print from a lack of caution stain parts of the pages.]
“He came back again. He calls me ‘scholar’ now. It’s a pleasant change over ‘girl,’ I suppose. If he’s calling me by my pursuits now, perhaps I should do the same, at least for the purposes of my notes. What should I call him? What does he do? Killer? Murderer? Face-flayer? Collector? Mask-maker?” [This word is circled.] “Musician? Artist?
I can only wonder what he thinks of me… He seems content to keep his thoughts to himself. I fear I’m wasting my time trying to learn more about him.
And yet, we are ‘kindred’...” [There is a large blank space after this word, which was traced over several times as though she were dissatisfied with her initial penmanship.]
“Perhaps given enough time… Perhaps I can at least open up to him… I can only wonder what he thinks of me...”
[This entry lacks a date.]
“What do I tell Meduhi? I can't bear the thought of losing him… but I think I might be losing myself. Each day is agony, this idleness driving me slowly into madness… But then again, the solution is no less mad…”
...
[This entry, too, lacks a date, although it is written on the same page as the previous one.]
“I think I might have to kill myself if I can't do something about these impulses soon…”
[The remainder of the page is marred with sketches, peculiarly less-detailed than her others, and much more erratic. The penmanship is notably worse than before, as if written by a trembling or unwilling hand.]
[Once again, the date is scribbled in the upper-right hand corner of the page.]
[The penmanship is sharp, steady, and focused.]
Those Darklight Order bastards sank the ship. I don't know how they did it, but they did. They are responsible for me not going home. They are responsible for preventing me from sharing my homeland with Meduhi, and with my friends. They are responsible for almost killing us, and forcing us back to Castle Town with almost nothing…
Whatever mercy I may have had left is gone. I will make sure every last one of those Order fucks dies for what they did. This last assassin was a warning… but I think next time I can be more creative. With each new one I'll have more time to practice, and more means of torture… yes, torture…
I don't care if they willingly give up Zilanthar anymore. Whether they speak or not, they are all destined to the same fate. And when we do find Zilanthar… I hope he and I can come up with a nice and fitting personal hell for him…
[There is a slight gap in the page as a new paragraph is started lower down.]
It felt wonderful. Killing a Darklight was more exhilarating than I had remembered. I anticipate another opportunity soon. I fear falling back into a restless rut without quarry.
I understand now why he is so insistent on a steady influx of prey...
I finally told Meduhi about the things that I have been feeling and… he took it well. He told me he had known from the first time we met…
It's strange that he knew, but none of my other friends seem to… unless they do, and they have decided to say nothing. I doubt they'd be so accepting… Perhaps Meduhi's circumstances simply gave him better intuition.
I gave it some thought - it, here, being my childhood - and I am still not sure that I could say anything unusual happened. I don't recall being a peculiar child, or having any violent tendencies. I never hurt anyone - not even an animal (unless it was slaughtered for food, and even still my father tended to be the one to take such a task upon himself). My parents were kind to me and accommodating, and I had a good deal of friends and acquaintances. Everyone was in everyone's business in Windfall… Surely if there were anything unusual about my behavior, I would have known.
Did I lack the correct stimuli? Or can anyone be encouraged to do what I do with the correct influence and propensity?
The others seemed genuinely repulsed by the things that we have seen, and that later, I have done in secrecy from them… It's doubtful that we see things the same way. I am the outlier…
If I do return to Windfall… If I do get another chance to go home… My parents can never learn of the things that I have done, and will do. To them, I must always be the same woman I was when I left on my voyage… ok? Mum and dad didn't nurture me into what I became - or, maybe, what I always was. That isn't important… I am Delia, or Del, or Dellie, scholar of Windfall, researcher of foreign lands, last standing original member of the Windgate Coalition, and wife to my beloved Meduhi Nuvolm… I am not a monster, or a murderer. I am not afflicted by psychosis, or a danger to society. My heart does not beat with a killer's desire, nor does it ache in longing for death. My eyes do not see strangers as prey, and my mind does not wander with taboo curiosities. I am Delia Verlhese Nuvolm, only daughter of Jhan and Marcelon Verlhese.
I am ordinary.