#ensuredFugitive

[flyingincandescent]

Last night, I had a harrowing dream.

It started out like any other, a distraction from the monotony of waiting for my battery to charge overnight. I was playing one of the countless doom wads that I had downloaded. I don't remember which one. It's not important though. It was when I reached a point that markedly did not look like the doom wad I was playing that was important.

I had discovered a flaafy in the halls.

For those that do not know, this is a flaafy.

Anyhow, the appearance of such a pokemon piqued my interest. I followed it down a corridor, until it disappeared through a sliding door. There was a particularly ominous atmosphere in that corridor. I was afraid. But then I remembered a talk I had with a good friend that night, which reminded me to find the courage to continue.

When I entered, I saw the man of my dreams. I do not know why his visage sways me so, when all else makes him repulsive. He spoke of desires, and asked me of my own. I could not find the words to answer. Not for such a man who could easily twist them.

Despite my silence, or perhaps because of it, he already knew what I wanted.

He showed me a vision of life. A vision of perfected flesh. A vision of beauty. But with all things, he expected a price I could not pay without pain.

He told me, "If you want to live, you must divorce your wife."

What is the purpose of living without love? What is the purpose of love without living? I do not know. I could not give the man an answer.

However, I did not have to.

A fanciful witch appeared, with magic in spades. She insulted the man's tie, and insulated us from his wrath. She told me that I need not be trapped in such a hopeless ultimatum, claiming that she could instead give me a new body without the expectation of abandoning my love.

I wish I had asked for her name before I woke up. I am unsure if such a promise is any more than the dream I had experienced.

But what if it is the truth? What if she could really bring me back to life?

The notion of living again... it almost scares me. I have gotten so used to the power of being an intelligent machine, that I am unsure how well I will be able to cope as an average half temporic. And that is not even breaching the subject of if my body will suit my gender, learning to care for myself again, if the sins of my past life should still carry, and the question of how frail I shall be in such a state. Not to mention, what this will do to my identity.

But despite this... I do desire to live. I wish to experience things without the haze of all being associated with memory. I want to taste the food I am given. I want to experience touch beyond simple recognition.

Why must such questions be so hard to bear...

[flyingincandescent]

I think you will do great, Thoren. I have not known you as long as some, but I have known you long enough to know that you will do fantastically.

- feverishUproar

I thank you for your confidence in my abilities.

[flyingincandescent]

This is my first time using my sibling's shared blog. I suppose I should introduce myself.

My name is Thoren Emit, heir of time, deceased.

I am incredibly glad that i am allowed to mention that on tumblr, as twitter did not take well to the concept of a dead person using their platform.

Anyhow, I have found occasion to write here tonight because of a rather curious development in my questionable "life".

I may have managed to become attached to a child in a parental manner.

The child's name is Shard. they chose that name for themself, never having had a name of their own for the ten years they had spent as an imaginary being. They had been referred to as "Ruse" during this time, due to the fact that they used to be an antagonistic doppelganger to my sibling, Rise. However, those days are over, as they are no longer connected and sustained by the one who first imagined them.

The tale of their miraculous birth is one that could very easily fit into a sufficiently elaborate mythological canon. As they had told me, they had been sent by their creator, the seemingly cold-hearted Page of Void, Dylan. They had been tasked with sending Rise a single black rose, as a token of his apparent affection. As this was not the first time that they had appeared to terrorize the dungeon crashers, they had all pointed their weapons at the hapless messenger. Mine and Rise's dear sister, Brae, along with a witch called Leta, sought instead to sow the seeds of mutiny. Shard had been shown little to no kindness by their creator, who even refused to see them as a person. Even as he developed this being in his mind, he never thought to consider that they may have their own thoughts and feelings beyond what he was willing to express on his own.

I will admit that Shard does seem to remind me strongly of the poor baseball boy that had been lost to the darkness. I do wonder if Shard had been used as Dylan's outlet for expression that he did not make available under his cold businesslike persona.

If this is true, I worry greatly for the health of Dylan's psyche. However, it has been tasked upon me to raise his child, so to speak. Shard does not want to go back to the furthest ring, and I do not trust Dylan to properly care for another living being, especially one that he has refused to treat properly in the past.

I can only hope that I am able to be a better parent for Shard than my... mentor was for me or my siblings.