Within the swirling Mist (IC) > Biographies

Heterochromia

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Mailbox0000:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Where to properly begin? Is there such a thing?
Perhaps, though I know nothing of the sort.
One moment I am in Port--Lucine, obeying my father's will, when next I am enveloped in mists and suddenly upon a hill overlooking a pack of wolves.
Mon dieu, how suddenly things can change.
I have heard of those who are taken by the mists from various realities, and have been told the mists have a mind of their own. Seeking all for a purpose, however great , however small.
I wonder then what purpose it has for taking me.
In the city, my home, I was but a puppet of my father. A slave to his will. Disobedience earned me the scars I live with to this day.
A reminder of how fragile I truly am, despite posturing toward otherwise.
Pain is a good teacher.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I watch the pack as they sense some prey and disappear into the wood, when they return it is at the heel of a wild eyed deer.
They catch it, and they feast.
I watch this all from my perch and am reminded how I am alone, far from everything I once knew and held as my reality.
I am free, and I am no deer.
~Dupont 

Mailbox0000:
I have learned I am In Barovia.
A fisherman offered information readily enough after nearly having a heart attack at my sudden appearance.
Like he had seen a ghost.
The day here is harsh, the night lethal. I have found refuge in a temple of all places.
The Temple of Dawn.I watch the many and different faces as they flit in and out and about. Some never to be seen again.
I hear the cultists say the end of each day is but the beginning of another, so long as you do not become lost in the night.
I feel they are right, in just about every connotation conceivable.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MuVO2cLy4fY[/youtube]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I have committed atrocities in my father's name, though I will no longer live in his shadow.
Not here, not now.
I have taken a new name, a new identity, discarding the lacquered blacks I once owned in favor of something a little more... unique.
How easily I stand out in a crowd, perhaps this cloak is too much.
I'll just have to live with it.~Dupont

Mailbox0000:
I have had the misfortune of arriving just at the onset of winter.
As such, there is precious little honest work to be found, not that I've ever subscribed. If one is to make a solar here there must be blood and toil.
This suits me just fine, as my facility for violence is extraordinary.
If there is one thing I have taken with me from home, it is the art of murder.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I can't say how many have died by my hand, the memories are a distant haze.
Regardless of what was said, regardless of how they screamed.
There are exceptions, of course, the voices that persist.
I tell myself I was only following orders,
that it was all I knew,
that I was afraid,
alone, a slave;

but we always have a choice.


When reverie fails me, my friend does not.
~Dupont

Mailbox0000:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The preacher comes, rain, snow, or sun shine.
Near upon every day.
Most of his words fall on deaf ears, but mine are keen
and his words resonate deep within me,
painting a picture of otherwise undefined thoughts and experience.
Patterns in the abstract.
Peace of mind is beyond any price, and he gives it freely,
if you are willing to listen.
If you are willing to learn.

Though all the knowledge in the world means nothing without application...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My mind returns to home, the life I lived in the past.
The friends I had are long gone now, even before the mists took me.
Dead or retired and having fled the city to enjoy their lives.
I learned almost all I know through them,
one way or another.
I wish I could thank them for the lessons that see me through hard times.
That make me the person I am today.
I will never forget, in all my years remaining.
~Dupont
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[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kKAeG8fy1fg[/youtube]

Mailbox0000:


"Remove hood and state name and occupation."

"Argali. Hunter and vagabond."

"Move along, fey."

"I always do."

"Nu backtalk, fey."

I smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DViO9f40K48[/youtube]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I find myself in the Drain, awaiting the arrival of an associate when -she- comes...
The She-Devil.

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting on someone."

"For what?"

"Work, perhaps."

She smiles.

"Come with me."
~Dupont

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