cheri-tale

[cheri-tale]

Deleanor State, 8/1/1941

Another day in this dark place has passed. Though last night was probably the worst day of my life, I thank God for giving me the strength I need to defeat the devil driving crazy thoughts inside my head. Ariadne and Alexandre are all alive and (probably) well too, at least the last time I checked.

Today, we learnt that we need to sacrifice one of the refugees’ soul to the demon as that’s the only way we can defeat Edmund. Can you believe it? What if it’s just a trap? What if we sacrificed one precious life for nothing, and instead of facing his defeat, Ed will only gain more power? Whatever this situation is, I totally hate it here.

How long should I be staying here? Once we truly defeated Ed, will we be free to go? Can we head back to Bordeaux? Are mother and father safe, or perhaps is Deleanor State the only place people face mishaps? So many questions filled my head, how I wish I knew the answer to them all. I guess I’ll just sleep these thoughts away like every other day. I’m getting better on that. Good night, journal.

[cheri-tale]

Deleanor State, 7/1/1941

Here comes the day I finally succumb to the darker power. I could handle things no longer and I could tell no one about that. All I got is you, my journal. If I end up deceased, please tell the world that whatever I did is not something I have a power to resist to.

Yesterday my head was filled with the thought of ending my own life so I don't risk everyone else, yet today it is full of how I wish to take my own sister's life. Yes, I'm talking about Ariadne Kanya Rostchild, my older sister who I cherished a lot.

I feel like a zombie, soulless yet still walking. If I ever went blank for a few seconds, I will catch myself staring at her like I wanna suck the life out of her so bad. I had to pinch myself several times so I don't lose it. It's the hardest day of my life. I don't feel like myself, at all.

Life's not worth living if I lose my family

Life's not worth living if I lose my sanity

Life's not worth living if I lose my soul

Please, just take me. Don't hurt Ariadne or Alexandre, hurt me instead. I will no longer resist anything, I surrender. I'm tired, I just want to sleep.. forever.

So if the journal I religiously write each day ever stop, you know something or someone has taken over my life. It definitely has gone bad and I could continue no longer.

[cheri-tale]

Deleanor State, 6/1/1941

Hello, it's me again. If you're wondering how I am doing right now, it's day four of bunker life and it's not getting any better. I believe I am no longer sane.

I guarantee you that I have known everyone inside this bunker, but there is definitely someone or something we have yet to figure out inside this buried chamber, trying to kill me.. or probably everyone else inside.

After we read a diary of Lily D's possession, I can't help but to despise Edmund. Was it his plan to make the nuclear experiment failed so a lot of people will need his bunker to hide? Was it his intention to trap all of us inside this darkness, make us go insane, and choose to end our life instead? Just so he could feed it to the devil he made a pact with?

No wonder that all of the writings written somewhere inside our rooms sounded that way. It might be true that the demon named Legba had stolen one or two of our souls. That thing is probably the reason why we all are starting to lose our sanity.

Now it's all true what people once said, that humans are even scarier than the devils. Or was Ed actually a devil instead of human, because I could never accept such a deed from a person. How could he?

I wanna run for my dear life so badly, but we all know no matter where I go, it won't probably be safe. I have nowhere to go to, since there are none of my families or friends who lived somewhere in Deleanor State. It's all dark and dusty outside, I don't wanna risk it.

Should I just die, so I won't go crazy and be a threat to everybody else?

[cheri-tale]

Deleanor State, 5/1/1941

Bonsoir, it's been a long day. Ed's out of the bunker today, he is finally seeing the sun. I never knew I'd be so jealous of that when I used to despise the sun because it was too warm and bright. Now that I got trapped inside this dark and humid place under the surface, not gonna lie, I kinda missed that fire ball. This whole thing got me trying to be thankful of even the littlest things, as you will miss it once it's no longer around.

Days inside the bunker are sure full of surprises and oddities. Today is the first time in my twenty years of life that I ever witnessed sheer terror on my sister's eyes. It was when she saw a few carved writings on her desk today, right after we are done with the chores. After the crumpled paper accident that took place on room three yesterday and now this? Great, seems like we are sleeping with an eye open tonight.

Frankly speaking, I think there is definitely one or a few people other than us inside this bunker and they are the ones trying to scare us with the traces they left behind. I may or may not have gone insane while I write this down, but I saw a glimpse of someone I never knew stayed here for the first time in three days. What's even weirder is the fact that I found no one inside when I peeked at the room once more. Did I see a ghost? Better not.

I know that it's so ungrateful of me to think badly of Edmund or even suspect that he does something bad, as he's been nothing but a lifeline to us all, but I can't help but suspect everyone at this rate. He provided us with food, water, and shelter; but who is he? What did he do when he get out of this bunker? Why did he go through all of the hassles to feed us?

I wonder what's hidden inside this bunker and who might've had other access to this place? And if there's someone else inside, what are they up to? Why did they try to scare us away? Are they the actual villain or are they trying to protect us from our host?

My head is so full of questions that I don't know whom I should address to. Stay sane, girl. It's the least you can do to survive.

[cheri-tale]

Irma LeVasseur

Dr. Irma LeVasseur was born in Quebec City in 1877. LeVasseur went to the United States to study medicine, and in 1903, successfully petitioned the National Assembly for a private member’s bill that allowed her to practice medicine in her home province. Dr. LeVasseur founded the Sainte-Justine Hospital, Quebec’s first French-Canadian pediatric hospital. She cared for victims of a typhoid epidemic in Serbia,  and later worked for the Red Cross in New York. In 1923, after returning to Quebec, she founded the Hôpital de l’Enfant-Jésus. Dr. LeVasseur also opened a school for children with disabilities.

Dr. LeVasseur died in 1964 at the age 86.

[cheri-tale]

"There are no incurable diseases — only the lack of will. There are no worthless herbs — only the lack of knowledge."

~ Avicenna. 980 - 1037 AD

Scientist - art by Alexey Kot

[cheri-tale]

Deleanor State, 4/1/1941

It's barely my second day of living under this frustrating dark bunker and my head had chosen to play jokes on me. It seems like night's mysterious voices was not enough to test my mentality, now those dialogues came again, even clearer and louder than they did the day prior.

And as if all of those tests wouldn't suffice, this time I also feel like someone else; someone I didn't know who, kept staring at me. Was it because of my hair has began to look weird? Or were there any stains on the dress I wore? Or was it because I kinda smell?

I sniffed at myself for a moment and I think I didn't smell like anything bad at all. Hint of sweats, yes, but everyone else smelled that way too. Well, if that was the case, I think the one talking should at least have some common sense. We need to save water for future urgent needs.

My brain played several possible scenarios on how and why those weird things happened to me. First, I really had lost my sanity. Second, someone else in this bunker indeed talked in those unknown language and kept staring at me. Or third, those sounds came from somewhere outside our underground hideout.

If the later is the case then we might either be rescued or.. will face our end sooner than expected. Whatever the reason is, I'd rather believe that it's all in my head. After all, facing the whole tragedy at such a young age, it's only normal to go insane. At least, if I can assemble some words for this journal still, I have some amount of sanity left.

I briefly glanced at the ceiling of this light-proof chamber and thought of how I miss staring at the falling stars. That reminded me of how I used to underappreciate that beautiful feeling while they lasts.

To my longed-for falling stars, bonsoir. Till we meet again. And when it's time, I hope you would guide me home.

[cheri-tale]

Deleanor State, 3/1/1941

I never knew I would start journaling again. It's been a while since I do so and it felt somewhat odd now that I might do it as a part of my routine again. Glad I snuck these dusty piles of paper inside my bag before I took off, or else I wouldn't have anything or anyone to confide in in this strange world full of uncertainties and unknowns.

I can't really say that the decision to expand our business to Deleanor State was the perfect choice, as it leads us to a complete disaster. We couldn't head back to Bordeaux and will probably be trapped here forever now, if we ever made it out alive out of this bunker. Even writing the word is depressing.

Being in an unfamiliar place like this, I realized something new. I despise silence the most. I never knew silence could be this scary, or should I say even more terrifying than how I thought ghosts would be. I really want to shout at the top of my lungs, I hate how quiet this bunker is that I could even hear my own breath.

I hate how this excruciating silence made every other sound so loud and clear. Sometimes my mind created sounds that I never once knew existed in this world. Am I sane, or am I not? I honestly don't know anymore. Just now, my ears caught a strange dialogue in language I've never heard. Who are they? What are they up to? Will it be the doom of me, of us, or of the whole world?

Please, send help. I don't know how much longer I could hold on inside this dark eerie place. For now, my only hope is to stay safe and sane.

[cheri-tale]

Bordeaux, 25/12/1940

It's that time of the year once again and honestly it's the only time that I would write something down, because the family dinner got too boring. All the elderly stuffs did not amuse me, that I'd rather go to my room and read something else.

However, there's something new this year. Something I didn't particularly enjoy or agree on, but have to do. Mother and father agreed to send the three of us on a trip to Deleanor State, someplace I heard of but never landed my feet on.

I never liked sudden changes, I love living a steady life though sometimes it gets boring. What kind of life surprises await us there, I wonder. I just wish that once we did what they told us to, we could be some sort of help to our parents.

So, see you on another chance, my journal? Happy Christmas.

[cheri-tale]

A glass of Château Lafite Rothschild and the Rostchilds.

The Rostchild family is one of the most influential families living in Bordeaux, French. They have been in the fashion industry for over 100 years, with Pierre Auguste Rostchild as the founder of Bleu Blanc Rouge. When the couture first opened its doors, it wasn't doing so well, not until Pierre went to Paris to learn deeper about the industry and gained some of the best garments from the city.

Soon after, the boutique garnered more attention from the locals as well as international fashion industrialists. The family then expanded the business; making bigger convections and hiring more tailors from all over the city of Bordeaux.

Following the huge success of the business, the Rostchild family passed it from generation to generation, making it a tradition for the oldest son or daughter to become the new leader. Léon Joseph Rostchild who was the eldest son in his family that time picked up the baton. That's how Ariadne, Alexandre, and Cherilyn became part of Bleu Blanc Rouge.

As the first-born daughter who will possibly earn the ownership of the couture next, Ariadne took care of the designs. Alexandre, the middle-born, is interested in the world shoe making. Cherilyn, the youngest of the three, enjoyed designing the accessories and sometimes a seamstress too. They spend most parts of the day together at the office, building bonds stronger than ever.

Despite being well-known for their success and hard-working life, the Rostchilds is just another normal family. They are a little family full of love, and the three siblings all grew up in a warm and loving environment.

As the youngest, Cherilyn always looked up to her older sister Ariadne as she aspired to be a strong and independent woman just like her. Being the oldest and a woman, Ariadne didn't have it all easy. The young lady admired her for that.

Alexandre, on the other hand, is a gentle brother to Cherilyn. Their age gap is closer and somehow that gave her the illusion that she is closer to her brother than her sister. However, it's not all true. She loves them both equally.

December of 1940, Léon and Amelie decided that it's time for them to expand the family business further. One of the nearest city known for its fashion industry, the Deleanor State, became the city of choice. The three siblings had been a big help for the couture for several years, so they planned to send them there once the Christmas celebration is over, in hope that some of their best designers would join hands with Bleu Blanc Rouge.

[cheri-tale]

Cheri-tale, a tell-tale about Cherilyn's life.

Cherilyn Avery Rostchild was born on March 13th, 1921. Her name Cherilyn was derived from the word chéri, meaning dear or beloved. She is the youngest of the Rostchild family, the well-known fashion industrialists family in Bordeaux, French. The girl has two older siblings, Ariadne and Alexandre.

As the youngest of the family, Cherilyn is the most outgoing kid out of her siblings. She never liked the murky mood on business meetings, so she always tried her best to lift up the mood by uttering some jokes.

Despite the silly things she did at times, she remains a hardworker and always does everything to her fullest capacity. That's what made her one of the prominent figures in a family full of fashion industrialists.

Eventhough she is part of the fashion business that her family ran for a long time, little Cherilyn was not actually interested in the field. Being born in a not-so-safe world that was full of war, she grew up witnessing so many bloodshed, too much to her liking.

She has always been deeply interested in the world of medicine ㅡ something that might be a big help for her, be it for the sake of her own family or for everyone else in need. You'll never know when and where the next war is going to break, or who's going to get hurt, that's why.

She got a copy of text-book of the practice of medicine by James M. Anders inside a hidden compartment of her shelf. It was by the help of her childhood friend that studies medicine that she successfully secured a copy of it. Cherilyn had always kept her passion a secret from her family just because she didn't like the ruckus it would cause if her family ever knew.

During the evenings, she took some of her resting time to read a chapter or two. Sometimes she sent her friend a letter asking things she couldn't seem to understand. Years passed, she finally mastered the whole book ㅡ but what's medicine without actually putting it into practice?

That's how she started turning her knowledge into work. It all began when she brought home injured animals, suturing their open wounds so they could heal faster. Of course she failed once or twice, but with each tries, she got better and better. Sewing skills she got from being a family seamstress seemed to play a big role, as it lets her master the surgical sutures and knots faster.

Other than that one secret she kept like an oath, Cherilyn is pretty much an outspoken lady. She has clear likes and dislikes, and she never hesitate to let everyone know. Some might find this quality of her as controversial, yet to some, it's something that makes her special.

[cheri-tale]

Bonjour, meet Cherilyn!

Basic Information

Birth Name: Cherilyn Avery Rostchild

Nickname: Cher, Cherry

Birthplace: Bordeaux, France

Date of Birth: March 13th, 1921 (age 20)

Nationality: French

Occupation: Accessory maker, seamstress

Workplace: Bleu Blanc Rouge

Hair Color: Dark brown

Iris Color: Hazel

Laterality: Right

Height: 5'3"

Weight: 110 lbs

Blood Type: B

Parents

Father: Léon Joseph Rostchild

Mother: Amelie Margot Rostchild

Siblings

Older sister: Ariadne Kanya Rostchild

Older brother: Alexandre Callum Rostchild

Interests

Accessory-making

Medicine