There Is Another

So apparently there's another Nest with a blog out there. I have not met this "Faceless Bastard" and I do not wish to. For one thing, the colors on his blog make my eyes bleed. For another, I know that psychos have there roles as vessels for the Bright Ones, but I was always uneasy around them. They never seemed to be in it for the knowledge or the joy -- they just liked to kill.

I don't like to kill. I mean, I've done it before. It was necessary. But I felt sick. This was before the Bright Ones inhabited me. Before I was a Nest.

Anyway. Back to business. I'm still observing my three targets. Someone finally found Target Three, the Camper, and took them to a hospital. They are going through the Camper stages right now - probably around the third or fourth stage, I'm not sure.

I tried asking Nightjar why I'm observing a Camper, but he just told me to keep watching. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Three

So, uh, happy New Year. Sorry I haven't posted. I've been busy watching my three targets.

Target One still seems fine, although I think it's just a facade. I caught him looking at birds outside one day, just staring at them. He might have been trying to see which ones were the Bright Ones, I'm not sure. He didn't look scared, however. Perhaps he is a Candidate?

Target Two has gradually gotten more paranoid. She is avoiding birds at all costs, going out of her way, changing her route to work, et cetera. It is obvious she knows that the Bright Ones are following her. Does she know why?

And, well, the last one, the one Nightjar gave me on Christmas:

Target Three has not moved. At all. He is sitting motionless on his couch, not doing anything. I would think he is dead, except I can see his chest slightly rising and falling with his breathing. But he has not moved since Christmas. At first I thought that something was just wrong with him. But now I know:

Target Three is a first-stage Camper.

Why? Why is Nightjar tasking me with spying on a Camper? I'm pretty sure the Ichor already knows about us. It knows a lot of things. But he didn't task me to view a full-stage Camper, but a first-stage one. One that has no knowledge yet. Why?

Happy Holidays

We had a small little party today. Kestrel said she got Nightjar to approve it by telling him that the words "Merry Christmas" would never be uttered. She said we would sound like a political correct Wal-Mart. I asked her what she meant. She said never mind.

Anyway, we had a small party. Kestrel gave us all gift cards to Starbucks. Tern handed out bags of sunflower seeds (which we didn't really need, since we already have a whole lot). And I gave them pictures I had drawn of them. They seemed to like that. Well, Kestrel and Tern did. Nightjar just looked at his and then set it aside. He was busy drawing up some plans.

I checked in on my two targets: Target One celebrated Christmas fine. He doesn't seem quite that affected by knowledge of the Bright Ones. Target Two, on the other hand, has come down with an interesting case of paranoia. She was jittery, nervous, turning her head at every bird sound.

Nighjar just gave me a third target to keep watch on starting tomorrow.

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlenests

I keep trying to convince the others that we should celebrate Christmas. I've got Kestrel on my side, but Nightjar is stubborn. He claims since it's a religious holiday, we would be violating our oath to the Bright Ones. Kestrel and I claim that whatever religion was in the holiday has been taken out by commercialization.

I don't think it will convince him. Oh well. Besides, I don't really have any gift ideas. (And getting gifts the night before Christmas would be kind of hard, too.)

Two targets in sight today met with their families. Target One didn't tell his family anything. One of my Bright Ones sat next to his window and listened. Conversation was mainly about Christmas shopping. Target Two tried to tell her parents, but couldn't get it out. She managed to see the Bright One on the window sill and looked shocked. Did she recognize it? Or did she just think it was another bird? Need to observe Target Two more.

Others

Three Bright Ones emerged from the wound. They're flying now, streaming through the air, basking in the wind. I feel an emptiness without them inside me, but I know they'll soon return.

There are others staying here with me. I think they're here to keep me focused on my task, but that's fine. It's not my place to question. I am merely a Quill, a writer.

The others are Kestrel, Tern and Nightjar. Kestrel's our Covert, the one who is good at sneaking around places. Tern is our Beak, the muscle of our flock, really. And Nightjar is the Crest, the leader. (Please note: these titles are just the ones I made up for them. They don't actually refer to themselves as such.) He gives orders, we obey. Well, sort of obey. You see, my orders come from the Bleak Shore itself, which overrides any orders Nightjar gives me. So he's a little resentful.

The Bright Ones are returning. I'd better go back inside.

Birdhouse In Your Soul

I have returned. I was recalled back to the Bleak Shore for a status update. Unfortunately, I really had nothing to update. And time on the Bleak Shore is kind of wonky.

In any case, I'm back and observing potential candidates. People, places, events. I need to write things down.

My chest hurts. The Bright Ones wish to be free. I can go now and let them out. No one will see. All I need is a knife and my flesh will open and they can emerge into the air.

Adjusting

I may be having trouble adjusting. Staying under the radar, so to speak. It has been quite a long time since I've been here. I don't remember quite this many people walking and driving and running. So many people. I've spent a month here and I don't understand how there can be so many people. Was it always like this?

I miss the emptiness of the Bleak Shore. I have not been back since my assignment began. "Write," they whisper, but I have nothing to write about. Not yet. I would try seeking out those who know about the Convocation, but I am unsure of myself and might give myself away. That would be unfortunate. I need more practice.

One good thing about this world, which the Bleak Shore lacks, is music. So much music. Just walking by restaurants and coffee houses, I can hear songs and cadences I have not heard before. Yesterday, I found this song and have decided to share it with you:

I know this is a distraction from my purpose here, but I can't help it. It's quite beautiful. But I shall endeavor to ignore it and go on with my mission, with my observations.

I shall be meeting another Nest soon. They shall show me the places I need to go, the people I need to observe, and the events I need to record.