I got to talk to Casca.

The Elephant in the Room has not been addressed yet. I do not look forward to that conversation. I plan on apologizing for my actions, but I am very aware that nothing can apologize for violating someone like that. I also plan on apologizing to him for a few non-Eclipse actions that I have committed. It’s not going to be fun but it will need to happen. 

The Elephant in the Room aside, it was nice to talk to him. He was just as bold in his speech as I remember him being. He seemed to be doing as well as he could be, given the circumstances. He was rather tense, but it was something I honestly expected from him while talking to me. His dysphoria was bad enough that he didn’t want to talk in the AFAB vessel. I don’t know when I will get to talk to him again, but I really hope it can be sooner rather than later. He’s my lieutenant and shockingly enough I care about him. 

I really hope he doesn’t find this blog. 

I feel angry. It’s a cold, ragelike feeling. 

Humans can be so blind. 

They can be very, very ignorant, and make very, very wrong assumptions. 

Someone needs a glass of something unpleasant to their face, and a strongly worded letter. 

“Never cared about his men” 

What a joke…. 

On My Home Universe’s Magic

Magic is different here. I can’t easily explain it, but the energy of thus world feels…. Tarry. Sticky. Mucky. Like it drags you down. I’m no magician, but even I can tell the difference.

It’s harder to do and more complicated and the basic mechanics are less emotion driven and more energy driven. Even magic that relied on elements back home invoked emotion and communication with elemental spirits in order to get them to act on your behalf. Emotions also acted as a catalyst that allowed personal energy or willpower to have an effect on things. If someone were truly desperate not to die, it made them harder to kill. A person with a significant amount of will can break into pieces and become many to deal with horrors. Promotions and social climbing come more easily to those with sufficient will.

Willpower is different than intent. Intent is having an outcome in mind, and in magic can tint the magical energy a certain way, willpower is the term for the collective force behind said intent. Most good magic involves calling upon spirits to supplement your willpower because most people are either not emotional enough or not powerful enough to have any great effect on the world around them. It’s not a mark on them. It simply is a fact, and it doesn’t prevent magic, just changes how you do it. You would not accuse me of ableism for saying a person in a wheelchair has to take the elevator rather than the stairs. Using spirits in magic is like taking an elevator. You have to follow a series of steps to use it, and failing to do so can prevent magic or cause injury. The stairs are harder to take and if you’re not strong enough, you can hurt yourself and fall down. Most people are not able to climb more than half a flight of metaphorical stairs, which can still alter things, but not as dramatically as real magic.

You might be curious how I do magic with seemingly so little emotion and a willpower that while strong, wasn’t strong enough to do magic before I became a parrot. It’s actually rather simple. As a member of the Godhand, I am connected to what is called The Idea of Evil. What this is, is a collection of the fear, negative emotions, and desire for meaning experienced by suffering humans. With this connection to a massive source of emotion, I simply use that to lower the effort needed to cause said effect, and then cause said effect. Every member of the Godhand can do this. It’s how you create forms from the flesh of others or create plague in a clean city.

I’m never going to understand this world. I’m never going to grasp their obsession with youth. I’m never going to have the experience of youth here and learning about this world implicitly like I know about mine. This place will never make sense to me. 

It’s boring, grating, and corrupt. It’s a rotting world that I’ve been privileged to watch decay. Humans have replaced the commonplace atrocities of my time with a new, sadistic set that I can barely comprehend. 

It’s fascinating and I’m growing to love this world with all it’s flaws.

Mortality for the Deathless

I don’t know what happened to my body when I decided to come over here. From what one of the others tells me, it probably stopped functioning. I think I may have been sleeping at the moment I decided to come over.

Charlotte probably awoke to what she thought of me not breathing. There was probably a funeral. Guts probably either was enraged that he didn’t do it, or relieved it was over. I don’t dare assume what Casca felt.

Everyone I know and care about probably thinks I’m dead.

How am I supposed to feel about that?

What happens if I decide to go back?

Journal Entry

I’ve not written on here about personal dealings. I’ve just now settled in this headspace, and I want to “front” more than the host allows me to. 

I seem to have made a friend here. Everyone calls her Fluffpuff, although that does not seem to be her real name. I was told she was 12 years old. She looks like a young girl, although I could see her as having reached the beginning of adolescence. She met me when I was taken back to headspace after running from Caleb’s yelling. Fluffpuff immediately took a liking to me for some reason. Everyone else is suspicious, reasonably so. Fluffpuff doesn’t like to leave my side. She really only accompanies me and her husband. 

I enjoy her company. She seems to be attempting to cheer me up and asks me about my life and talks to me about things that interest her. She charms me and keeps me interested. I wish that she were a bit older as I much watch my words. She’s so easily horrified. I must care for her. She makes me feel less alone. Like I have companions again. 

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