Saturday, February 25, 2012

I told them. They...didn't take it that well.

Tern still doesn't believe me, I'm afraid. He wants proof.

And Kestrel. Kestrel believed me. But then she asked me something. She asked me: "What now?"

And I don't know. Yesterday, something happened that scared me more than Nightjar's revelation: I tried to open a pathway to the Bleak Shore and nothing happened.

So what now?

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Nightjar

I found Nightjar. Blood of the Bright Ones, I found him.

I knew it was foolish of me, but I didn't care. I went back to the old house, I looked at its burned remains. And that where I saw him. He was inside the burned out husk of a house, sitting on the soot-covered floor.

I went inside. "Nightjar? What happened? Where have you been?"

He didn't answer me. He had his eyes closed.

"Nightjar?" I crept closer to him.

Then he spoke: "It took me a while. To get up the courage. I didn't want to do it, but I had to. I had to do it, don't you see?"

"Do what?" I asked. "Are you...are you responsible for the attack?"

"No," he said. "But I suspect they were after me."

"Why?"

Without opening his eyes, he pulled out a syringe from his pocket. "Because of this." I knew what it was. Before he even said it, I knew what it was. "Ink."

"I took it," he said. "It hurt so much. Every time I let them out. I thought the hurt would go away, but it didn't. It always hurt. Do you know how long I have been hurting? You were lucky, you got to stay on the Shore. I was sent back here almost immediately. I've been hurting for years. I've stored up so much hurt I couldn't take it anymore."

"So you, what, want to become a Camper?"

"I don't want to be a Nest," he said. He opened his eyes and I could see the pain in his eyes. "But I knew I couldn't leave. Not without dying. Not without becoming empty. So the Ichor was my only choice. It'll keep me alive."

"But you won't be," I said. "Alive. You'll be part of it. Part of the Camper."

"But I won't hurt, will I?" Nightjar said. He closed his eyes again. "That's my obsession, it seems. My own pain. But soon it won't matter. I'll just go to a place with lots of people and drink more ink until the hurt stops. Until I stop." He smiled. "So go run along, little Cuckoo. Go back and tell everyone. I won't care at all."

So I turned and came back.

I don't know what to tell the others. I don't know what to do.

I just don't fucking know.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Waiting

We've just been waiting these past few weeks. Waiting for Nightjar to return from wherever he went, waiting for orders from the Bleak Shore, waiting for something else to happen, for the other shoe to drop.

None of that's happened yet, by the way. We're all worried about Nightjar, about how they (whoever "they" are) might have found him and killed him. Yes, we can be killed, it's just harder than normal. And with Nightjar missing, Tern's making us all stay inside and is barricading the doors and windows. We've been stuck inside here for two weeks.

But I don't want to wait any longer. I don't care if I'm going to die, I just want for be outside.

I want to see the sky again.