[Solo] Riley's Missing Journal

[Nio Love]

The 4th of First October
Dear Journal

Today marks the first entry. I embark on another useless journey through the depths of the intangible psyche. Personally, I rather enjoy the parts I can see, taste, touch, and invade. But I have been informed that journal keeping is a proper and common activity for the females of our age group, and have sequestered myself in the room where I perform the suspension of consciousness to give my body the amount of rest it needs to perform at it's optimal capacity.

And here I sit, writing my thoughts into a booklet made of the carcass of dead trees, and I find myself surprisingly introspective. There is something amusing about this entire venture, but I have not been able to put my finger on it as of yet. Though I was sent here to conquer and assimilate, there are times, rare as they might be, when I find myself slipping more into their way of life than is necessary for my acclimation and acceptance as a leader. Even now, as I write these words, I wonder what good do I really intend to gain from doing so. Do I intend to let anyone ever see this booklet? Of course not, it would be counter-productive. So then, if it is something only I know of, how does it further my goals? It is in these moments I find the influence that the students of Amityville have on me to be most amusing. If my father knew of it, he would declare my assignment an immediate failure and have me sent home at once for cleansing.

And what of my father? Should I perhaps write my thoughts on him? There are few, it would not take more than a handful of sentences to complete. Perhaps it isn't even worth the ink. He is no more a father than the Elder Brain, which is acceptable. And yet, I hear talk while here, of parents who hold active interest in the lives, and choices, of their children.

Choices. How chaotic their lives must be.

I am truly grateful for the purpose that has been bestowed upon me. I will do my best to overcome the pitiful obstructions that block my path, and I am sure the amusing influence these soft minded scarelings have on me will be shallow and fleeting. Nothing truly to worry about.

Journal entry complete.  

[Nio Love]

The 7th of First October
Dear Journal

This will be my second entry, and I will use it to discuss social endeavors. I believe I have worthy companions now. I have found a mind so tempting in it's prowess, that I would have taken it for an Illithid if I did not know it was otherwise so. The plague doctor, Malodore, is a fountain of precious new information. I am truly pleased to have discovered it first. Listening to it, watching it, being around it feels-

((The page is torn here, and the journal entry comes to an abrupt end.))  

[Nio Love]

The 8th of First October
Dear Journal

I have done something terrible. Oh, so terrible. I cannot imagine what I was thinking, doing such a thing. And at once, I cannot imagine surviving another day without doing it. I don't know what to do. I ALWAYS know what to do. I am at a total and complete loss.

Oh, but how gloriously freeing it was. And in truth, it makes sense. I simply needed to know. I needed to understand my place. I craved answers more than anything, but now that I dwell on the issue, I only have more questions. What happens now? Have I.. managed to lay claim to that which I desired? Am I just fooling myself?

I want this. I want this so much it frightens me. I just wish I knew what, exactly, it was that makes me want it so very much.

I hope today was not a mistake.

Journal entry complete.  

[Nio Love]

The 13th of First October
Dear Journal

I would apologize for my emotional outburst in my previous entry, but you are an inanimate object, and as such will not receive any apologies. I am quite well composed today, after some deep and cleansing thought. And now I will continue to discuss my colleagues here at Amityville.

The acquisition of a draconic companion was an excellent choice, on my part. Jericho Bloodbane is of the red dragon lineage, a fine specimen in his natural form. He has already taken to allowing me to mount him as his rider exclusively, which is an important step in the process of acquiring a mount. Furthermore, he has also become a valued companion in many aspects, and if I were to use the colloquial term for our relationship, I would classify us as the best of 'friends'. It is not surprising that I am the best of something, naturally, but charming to see such a bond was easily made by a race so prone to independence. Nevertheless, he is mine now, and I intend to keep that bond for the remainder of my existence.

Similarly, I have found an igor, though it is safe to say that acquisition was much a simpler venture, and not at all surprising. What is surprising is finding an igor here, within the school. None of the igors that we employ in the hive have ever been schooled in any form, and thus are easier to manipulate and control. One must wonder if this particular igor; Christof, is his name; still has a true master at all. Perhaps he has died, leaving the igor a useless shell? One might consider schooling to fill the need that emptiness would leave in such a tool's life. Whatever the case may be, it will be nice to have a servant once more, once I have marked him as my own. He is especially knowledgeable and exhuberant about limb removals. What a treat.

Journal entry complete.  

[Nio Love]

The 14th of First October
Dear Journal

I have little of import to report. Most of my eventful day has been consumed by the attempt to recollect my mischievous cthulhu, after it has laid rampage on this school. If the student body members who have been attacked this evening all come to realize just whose minipet was at fault, I will become a hated figure in this little society they have nurtured, and I will return to square one in my efforts. I can only hope that Cam was somewhat discreet in it's horrific displays, but that hope dwindles with each complaint I receive.

In other news, it has come to my attention that the student body at large is obsessed with sex. I must clarify here, that when I speak of sex, my intention is not to imply gender. It is the act of fornication, the physical aspects that enhance such an act, and the constant stage of hormonal fueling, to which I am referring to.

To sum up, teenagers are horny.

I have taken this into account, and have adjusted accordingly. I will not, however, be coerced into any acts of fornication. The mere idea of copulating with someone out of my race disturbs me. I would be more than happy to engage in other, less physical acts, but for the moment, I will not engage in the act of sex.

I will simply look like I do.

That is enough.

Journal entry complete.  

[Nio Love]

The 18th of First October
Dear Journal

I am conflicted regarding the usefulness of the class curriculums here at Amityville. So far, I have learned nothing of value, but I gather that is because I am only a first year, and they likely hold back their worthwhile information for the upper classmen. I will stay vigilant and patient, and hope that my patience is rewarded in the end. Besides, the longer I am allowed to stay here, the longer I can enjoy time spent with Malodore.

I know, I promised myself I would leave no physical or tangible presence of my emotions. I will, in all honesty, burn this book soon enough. So, it serves to assume that it is safe to write in it, since I will destroy it before anyone has a chance at looking at it.

That being said.

I've never felt this way about anyone, or anything, in my entire existence. I think about Malodore every waking moment. It even embeds itself into my subconscious so thoroughly that I dream about it, and I find myself waking, disappointed at the reality I possess. I cannot keep it. I know I cannot. But Jack help me, I want to. And I fear that I have become overly passionate, at times putting it off as it clearly prefers a more clinical companionship. What it asks from me makes my choice simpler, as I can safely enjoy it's company if I consider it my partner, my work companion, my colleague. This would be for the best. It would be safe, for both me, and the plague doctor. It-

I feel as though my chest is going to explode. It hurts in all of the best ways. I want it, all of it, as dangerous as it is. I want to be frivolous, and entirely non-sensical, and share every facet of my mind with it until it cries out for a respite. Oh, how shameful. How wanton. How desperate my needs are. Can it not see the desperation in my eyes? Why can it not feel how my hands struggle not to hold so tightly, and how my mind fights against the kisses that come unbidden?

Malodore, Oh, my Malodore. Can you not hear me now, struggling to keep my emotions at bay? How can you stand it? Does it not trouble you that such a foul, wanton creature desires for you as her own?

It troubles me. It troubles me greatly.

I shall most certainly burn this book at my earliest convenience.

Journal entry complete.  

[Nio Love]

The 20th of First October
Dear Journal

I am lost.

I hope to never be found again.

Journal entry complete.  

[Nio Love]

The 25th of First October
Dear Journal

I have received further advice concerning my current and consuming problem with Malodore. Since I have already, as of yet, written information in this journal that would betray me, and will be destroying it soon enough, I find no harm in attempting to use this method. I was advised to use the lyrical outpouring of emotion commonly known as poetry to express my emotions, so that they do not trouble me so profusely. So, without further ado, my attempt at the use of poetry.

Roses are Red.
Violets are blue.
You are my every thought
I want you.

And now the results of this experiment are as follows:

I feel absolutely no better than I did before I wrote those four lines of poetry. Perhaps a different, more abstract method is in order.

Attempt 2:

When my eyes falter
My ears grow deaf
And my heart stills
I will still, and always-

I pause here to abruptly pronounce this experiment a failure. Not only do these lines of poetry fail to collect and remove my emotions, but they have caused me to have stronger, more fervent ones. Highly inappropriate ones that involve emotion I am certain I cannot actually possess.

The rule of three remains accountable, however, so I will try one last time.

Attempt 3:

Your hand in mine
Feels like home
Without you, my heart
would sink like stone.

Results: I rather liked that one.

Journal entry complete.  

[Nio Love]

I will always love you, Malodore.
And I will never destroy this book, even if it means the end of me.
I do not fear their punishment, anymore.
Even in death, I will love you forever.
No one can ever take that away from me.