Chat Thread 20: The Good, The Chat, and The Ugly

Ah, I see. :0 Well, I think I've come up with my next post.

Fight? Or flight?

Option 3 - use her wits.

In a room full of angry projections?

Exactly. Make sure the projections dismiss her before she tries to slip away. He already seems to think she's a projection, so she just needs to make the subconscious agree.

"You can't be here."

Threat.

"I wouldn't be here if you didn't want me to be."

Logical. Must be a projection. Threat diminished.

Then she says that she won't stay with that kind of welcome though and slips off.

Hmm...

That seems logical enough, yeah.

Hah!

And it achieves roughly the same result as flight. So, I already have a response prepared.

Well yes. But it keeps her from being pursued and putting the subconscious on high alert before she can figure out what's going on.

There are some who would argue that being pursued by an army of women in bikinis is hardly a bad thing.

I don't think Sofie would be one of them.

Diary #1

I write this not as a research log but rather as a re-collection of my thoughts. A diary if you will, so that I may look back in times of great confusion such as these. My name is Elizabeth Hemory, daughter of Jonathan Hemory and Roxana. Since I was a child, only 5 years old I have been given strict instructions from my mother to pick up my father's work, a complicated idea at the time, but now I understand where it came from. I cannot explain what drove to do it, but I studied endlessly with hope to understand one day what I was reading. Magecraft, who knew magic existed.

That said my life wasn't easy, although my mother seemed to care about me and we had no economical problem, she kept on inviting people inside for less appropriate reasons. Many times I walked in on her work with a random individual, sometimes nameless other times of more respectful status. At first it was troublesome, but eventually I just accepted it, she wasn't going to change her lifestyle and she was careful to warn me before hand of when these activities might occur. Ah, this isn't to say I hate her, I still love her regardless if she's a public woman or not.

As for why did I start to write this? Mother told me that upon my 18th birthday that she would give me a box that belonged to my father... Let's just say the experience of opening the box was most traumatic. I expected more boring papers about his research, secrets that he could only trust a matured mind to understand, but no. What I found was blood, so much blood that I was almost drowned in it. Never before had I felt such pain, even as I write I can feel the blood rushing under my skin changing me, molding me into whatever sick experiment my father planned for.

I will rest now, my mind and body are most strained from this pain, perhaps I'll ask my mother for something to knock me out for the day.

Interesting. So, it's a girl.

I have to send you a PM when I get back, as this character plot might solve an issue I've been considering.

there's still more diary pages to write :V

I'm just showing one at time to see the reaction

Show me more, you tease! >:0

Diary #2

Know that as I write this I feel most disgusted about the current situation, never before have I felt so much hatred and guilt that I would kneel and cry in from of Mother begging her to forgive me. I feel like I want to set the whole house on fire in an attempt to erase the knowledge I had learned. For how could I be a spawn of such a demented thing?

Perhaps it's best if I explain, after having had a long rest from the previous incident, I woke up today with sense of alienation. Knowledge which I never had, suddenly was there as if I had always known about them. To prove this situation, I found a series of logs from my... From my father, I had no idea they even existed much less where they were hidden, and yet I found them most naturally. It was then that I learned the truth of my father's research and my own birth.

Oh why? Why did I have to know of this? I would have rather been played as a fool and been driven to believe that I had free will, instead of knowing my origin and why I'm even here to begin with. Even as I write this, I have no idea if this my own free will or my father's twisted play.

Regardless, I must continue the study, I refuse to lower myself to my father and use such disgusting methods, if am to test on anyone than it will be on myself before anyone else! I just hope that whatever was affecting my father in his finals logs, does not begin to affect me.

so far, this actually sounds like someone Saber could get along with. : o

You think so? :0

More more more!

assuming she hasn't gone crazy by the end of the diary entries...

Diary #3

Today my mother decided to leave the house to meet one of her employers. I asked her to rethink this and that it would be best if she had whoever the man was walk to our house instead of the other way around. I reminded her off what she knew full well, the killer that stalked the nights preying on women such as herself. But my mother is confident, and I felt no right in objecting her after what I had learned. As such I merely wished her a safe return.

Now moving on to my findings. The experiments have been going slow as I have little heart to continue despite this impulse to commit to them. That said it seems my father was blinded in his own ego and could not see the reality of the situation. After a few experiment I have discovered a few things which he dismissed for some unknown reason. First, majority of my current blood is pure poison, although our body require blood to survive it seems my father neglected to realize that to much being pumped into one's brain could cause severe damage, there is also the problem of the density of blood, right now I have 550 liters of blood inside of me, that is over what 100 of me should have! Despite this absurd number I do not feel any heavier than I felt the day before the incident, I can only assume that my father did something with magecraft. However this comes in a consequence, because of the density of the blood, the amount of iron, oxygen among other properties are off the roots.

To put it in simple words, my father's health decline came from his body containing more than what it could, and he has damned me to the same fate as his. Right now I have no negative effects, but as time progresses I am sure that my body will begin to break.

To combat this ticking bomb inside of me I have doubled the efforts in the research, although for the lack of better judgment I will pass through the hospital at night, I do not wish to see anyone die but giving use to a corpse should be fine, right?... Right?

True lol.

Keep going.

Diary #4

Today I write with new founded hope, I have found that the use of other bodies, although while not giving most results, still display the most observable. Mind you that these are corpses and as such the results would likely be quite different if used on a living being. However if nothing else I was able to calculate a system that would allow me to store this excessive blood that I contain into the corpses I brought without deteriorating the blood. The bodies on the other hand would have to be changed every few years, hopefully the hospital will continue to be generous in the future.

That solves my problem of time, but doesn't fix the problem itself. My body is already affected and will break eventually, I merely extended the amount of time I had left. This should provide me with enough time to find a cure for my condition.

On another note, my mother as not returned today. I will be leaving tonight in search of her, I hope that she is fine.

brb, dinner time

yeah, so far, this is definitely someone Saber could get along with. : o

Interesting. :0

Well, there we go then. I guess everyone but Rider has one then.

Diary #5

I question now who wrote these entries, if me or my father? It is amazing to read my evolution in less than a week's span.

It's been two days since the last entry, after leaving the house to look for... to look for my mother. What I imagined to be a tearful reunion, turned into a sick chaos that even now marks my mind. Who could have done that? Not even my father, who I viewed as a demon, did nothing comparable to the chaos I witnessed. What did my mother do to deserve this?

I remember kneeling down and vomiting on the floor at the site of what was left of my mother. I cried so much, the need to hold onto something crushed by the fear of destroying whatever was left with a mere touch. MY MOTHER DID NOT DESERVE THIS!

After an hour of sobbing, I picked myself up and took what was left of her with me. I would not allow anyone to see her in that state, I would give her a proper burial. As I walked home anger began to boil inside me, the desire to find the monster who did this and dismantle him to bits, this would be someone I not only would not mind experiment on, I would enjoy every moment of it.

Upon arriving home a placed my mother in the basement to be taken care off later, there was something I need to do. I went to my room and cried myself to sleep.

The next day went pretty uneventful, I continued to sob for half of the day until I felt my eyes to dry to shed any other tear. The other half was spent reflecting on current events.

This is unfair, I miss the times when magecraft was hobby not an obligation. The times when I would be embarrassed for walking into mother. The times when I respected my father...

I don't want a cure, I don't want happiness, I just want to be free from this cage of misery.




and that's the final entry