I saw a face from the past... seems she's given up on the cause. I yet to smell something pure. I figure I only had 2 friends in my entire life that were true. The rest just wanted in on the glory or me.

I see when things are down the quickest refugee is their solution. For instance, take these so-called 'dark' subjects who forget what they are in order to have a few weeks of insinuating they are evil. Now, I don't like to call ourselves 'dark' because we just have different points of views along with our beliefs, but if you are claiming that you are stick to it.

Lets first take Chastity as an example. Chastity, who smacked around anyone because she was annoyed, is now tolerating, wait not tolerating, now bonding with the same type of people. She claimed she practiced the dark arts of magic and now is practicing the housewife's art of cooking food for these people. She's far more than transparent if you take a good look. Amusing.

Ambika, she gave up her oath, because her god died. Now what was she really in for?… Only thing I saw in her was to seek power among us, the brotherhoods. She was never in it for the cause, she was just in it for the ride…

Alterio, this is a man who's first priority is women. With that I need to tell you nothing else. I tolerate him and keep myself silence because of Madame Trione.

Journal entry: 14 January, Nemesio E. Canales, Prophet.

:pens up the journal, noticing it has collected dust since he wrote last::

Dear Journal,

Been a while since I wrote last, huh? Raven has gotten sick and Chastity is taking care of her. I hope she and Raven are alright. That explains her recent absence. I seem to have made the papers again.This time, it's about Chastity and how she has these "suitors"(Khalidan and Raven, my competition(Ramza doesn't count because he's dead)).

I hope things between me and Chastity get better, I mean we are just friends, but I'd like to be a little more than that, but if she doesn't feel the same way, I still wish to remain friends. I met a woman,her name was Xanthia . She's kind of quiet,kind of like me. I enjoyed talking with her. We seemed to have a lot in common, well I better finish this up now.

Journal Entry: 14 January, Eden Arcane

Dearest Journal,

Its been awhile since I've written and little has changed. Char has told Eyas what she told me and for a few days now she has been better than usual due to Morte breaking the psionic link that Marcus had with Char, I do hope that it stays broken but I doubt that will happen. A few days ago Morte showed Char the paper that was in the box that Eyas found and the second she layed eyes on it she began to get a chill,this chill was so bad infact that she fell unconscious, Khal and I had to wrap her in blankets and put her in front of a fire just to keep her from freezing completly, Morte had the paper in his pocket the whole time and we found it strange that Char wasn't warming up at all. Then I realized that the paper was still too close to her, so I had Morte take it outside * Sighs * A few moments later Eyas showed up and I thought that he should be with Char, well instead he talked to Morte about the problems they have been having with Marcus and left Char laying in Khal's arms. I must admit I was quite mad, but I think it had something to do with having talked to Ana about men the day before, I acted foolishly that night, snapping at Khal and throwing wine on him instead of telling Eyas I was mad at him. But it is in the past, I have apoligized to Eyas and to Khal and Attrei came into the dome that night and tried to cheer me up. I must admit it worked, it seems that he has been staying alone in that house of his and he hasn't even bought any furniture, he's sleeping on pillows. Well we talked for quite a bit and he says he forgives me for all I've done, he walked me home and ended up just staying there, in his own room of course, My cat truly missed him...I wonder if that is any reflection of me at all. I do miss him, but like I said to Char, I don't know if I miss Attrei or if I miss the companionship, right now I'm not sure. I just Attrei would have come back to the dome the next day or even the day after that and he has yet to return, leaving me to wonder.... As for other things that have gone on recently, poor Neo is in love with Mags and she says she is in love with him, I find this strange, but perhaps they will be happy together, he missed her so much last night that he cried, right in the middle of the dome. Khal seems to think that whenever he speaks he gets himself in trouble, this leads me to believe that he doesn't think before he speaks sometimes and should, but not all people can do that, some people are ruled by emotions first and brains second, I think Khal is one of those people. I suppose that is all, I bid you farewell Journal, until we meet again.

*signs her name and leaves the journal laying on her desk, going out to the dome*

Journal Entry: 14 January, Rosalyn Lovine

Stuck at the Bluff House

Looks down at her ankle with disgust...I cant believe I am so stupid. I shouldnt have gone for a midnight walk down to the beach. I feel and hurt myself and now must stay in this drated bed or I may end up a cripple. Blah I hate injuries. Jasmin has tried to heal it and said it should be fine if I keep the boot laced up tightly and do no walk. So here I am stuck in bed. Neo must be almost out of his mind wondering what has happened to me. I am not sure yet if I love him because I will always compare every man to Dan. He was my one true love but he killed it with all of his women.

If I must lay here and do nothing but let my mind rot I guess I should think on who I do love.

Sands the paper in her journal so she can close it with a slam and bellows for Jas to bring her a drink

Journal Entry: 15 January, Mags

::returns to his house after a brutal display in the P-Dome::

By the gods Char and Eyas have it bad for one another! I swear they are doing it right now somewhere in the pleasuredome. Kissing one another deeply on the lips... right in front of me! Yuck! *laughs* I cannot complain, if I had someone that cared for me as such, I believe I would do the same. Speaking of which, it seems I have run Mags off. Why am I such a fool journal? Why do I always fall for someone who doesn't like me? Or runs off? Perhaps there is a better explanation of why Mags ran away...

I hope, gods I hope.

I hope that everyone isn't right and I am. They say she only uses me to get to Dan. Why would someone be so cruel? Would they not think of how the other person would feel? I suppose not if they are bent on using others. I am cursed. I swear I am. My history with women on this Isle is not very good at all. I shall take you, journal, on a trip down memory lane...

First there was Adrianna.. I thought I was in love, and she ran away.. never to be seen again. Then there was Lyrias, she ran off to the mainland, but not before marrying someone else! And now Mags.. *pauses a long time in thought over this before returning to his journal* It seems I have run her off as well.. what is it that I do to them? Am I really that bad of a person? Or am I a damn doormat for women to wipe their feet on when they're through with me? I am falling for Mags, hard. Am I a fool for doing so? Only the future will tell journal.

On a lighter side note, I am thinking about preparing a Fighting Tournament of some sorts. To see who the toughest person on the Isle is. Well, if I get permission of course. I think that should liven a few lives on the Isle... I wonder who I could ask to get such an event started... I will start asking later perhaps.. right now it is just an idea and nothing solid..

I am going to Mags house on the bluff and find out what is going on..

~Neo~

::lays the journal out to dry and heads out for Mags' house::

Journal Entry: 15 January, Lord Neo

I think i have really gone insane. Or is it just to much stress? Whatever it is I need to get a grip. I -never- bid on anything sight unseen. Well I learned last night why I dont. Now, I have a 500lb Bertram! Whatever the hell that is. What do I do with a naked 500lb Slave??

And Alterio II...Im gonna hurt him for that. Tells me Bertram can be a sex-slave. Oh hell no! NO way!! I dont want or need a sex-slave. And im beginning to wonder if I need men in my life at all. You cant trust them. They arent dependable. They are never around when you need them. Hell most of the time I dont even know 'where' my husband is. He may be at the docks for all I know.

I dont know if he has even gone to check out the stables I gave him as a gift. He has not commented on whether he has or not. Now I remember -why- I said I would never get married. And once again I find myself making excuses when anyone asks about him. Yeah he is home resting."shakes her head". But yet I dont know if he is home resting, sleeping with the maid or at the docks.

Remind me again what we need men for. Oh yes...for the stress and aggravation they add to our lives. And all I get out of him is 'he cares about me'! Seems like I have heard that same damn line for years from his son. Hell, my panther cares about me to. Because I feed him and take care of him. But at least he shows he cares ad licks my hand some times. He causes me no stress or aggravation AND I know where he is and what he is doing.

Eh well, enough babbling for now.

Vixen

Journal Entry: 15 January, Vixen Blade Carazzi

1st Entry: The Chastity Revelation

{slips into a seat at her desk playing over a question that seems to neverend through its course in her mind.}

Dear Journal:

Raven asked me something striking late last night, before her fever blushed cheeks settled down in bed. "Chassy, tell me a story about you when you were like me." Something within the little one's tone, called out as if her soul was pleading within my own to find solace. I automatically replied, and begun the saga of my days, her little eyes grew wide with fright, then settled down at my warm smile. Now I can't help but thinking was I too harsh? but twas truth. Hours after her sleeping form fell into the lands of slumber, I continued...speaking out to the hidden shadows, the candle-lite flickers, the shrouded swaying palms who seemed to dance under the moonlight, while I took a dramatic pause. Some say I have lived life to the fullest, others will say I have only touched its outter-lining. I wish passage to its core. While sphere's of conduct, mannorizms, personality, intelligence, humanity tornado throughout my being, I wish simplicity. Have I walked my rightful path? Who was the silent hand that aided my step? I indeed covered ground, ups and downs, left and rights too. To Err is human, to loath is spirit, but to keep walking is mind. Well journal it is time to share the very thing I shared with the one person who is completely mine, never will the sprite know of her father, nor will he know of she. Thats my ending path..come walk with me~

Long ago, on a cool mid winter's eve in the ending of February, the 20th to be precise. A noble woman began labor. Lady Nancia Debrose MacLaine, was approximately seven months along with the miracle that she held in her uterus. She was a kind woman, one of peace and grace. Always was she optimistical and full of beauty and lace. This noble woman was a true lady who kept her righteous place. With long flowing flaxen lockes, and eyes of blue peacocks. Their was not an evil bone within her body to mock. This human possessed a special gift, a healing touch. She could heal anything and everything and that of such. The lands held her true, she was just perfect and all knew. Knelt beside Nancia, was Lord Bruce Kenzie De'Kartan, as he held her hand within his own, watching his soul-mate start to fail, then his dark elven features started to arise. Before that this man was always one of the darker ethics, although, not infront of Nancia. He was a man of hidden deceit, looking for any soul to deplete. This man of dark swirling eyes of ebony, and hair of the same coloring on the contrary. His soul produced magestics of pain and despair. He had little to no care. For he took what he wished, and made the elderly twitch. Cruel enactments always went underway, even til his last breathing day. This mage had a stature of hungar and desire, saddly only evil thoughts ever did transpire. He and she met sometime in fall. As she was walking through the forests of Tall. Gathering root and herb. She walked further into the depths of the woodland, upon hearing an agonizing scream. Hoping to help what was making this horrific sound, she stumbled into Bruce. He was chanting, and raving, casting, and hathing. Upon a what appeared to be a shadow witch. The witch screamed and begged, while Nancia just stood stunned that someone could be so wreckless and mean. Her eyes, shinned with inner love for all...as she then went against Bruce and placed her hands onto the dark witch's being, Bruce was so astonished, that he stood back, watching this woman heal what havoc he caused. 'How can this be?' The shadow witch rose into something mythical and looked upon them "Ye both are complete oposite from one another, yet can learn a great deal. I bind thee together for all of eternity!" she then casted the spell, or curse upon them. They were joined, as they felt the initial invisible chain. I was told they did learn a lot from one another, now I only have my mother's old journals, and my fathers harsh words to live by. I do believe they loved one another a great deal, after they learned to accept fate. Getting back to that day of my birth, I remember my mother's script, her last entry. "My Darling, little Starling *me* ye shall grow up with the best of both worlds, for you will have everything and anything ye so desire. You were conceived through hope. You father wished an heir, and what an heir ye shall be, somehow I know ye shall be a daughter, but he thinks a son. Whose name will be 'Lord Bryce Maxtrix De'Kartan.' I giggle when I hear him rave about his son, "HE will be THIS! HE will be THAT!" so I lean back listening, when I know my little daughter arrives she will be "Lady Eugenia Darling De'Kartan." I shall show you the path of light, and also that of darkness, for it shall be your choice my darling. Your father is sitting beside me with a worried look, because you are on your way too early. But that is just like a woman, that is how I know ye shall be a girl. Only men are late, Eugenia. A woman is always early. I have this foresight, that I shall not be around for you as I should be, in person. But know my dear child I shall always be here in spirit. A mother always knows.The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. I am feeling tired now, and shall rest, I love you my child~" Well, thinking back to what she must've been going through I can't seem to fathom, my father caring, or even having a heart. On the cold snow filled day, I was birthed. Soon after that journal entry, my mother slipped into death's realm or so I gather from diffrent things I was told. My father then said, he opened her up and took out the child she carried, he cut the connection between mother and child, and seen me. For I was not a son, but a daughter. He cursed. For he lost his wife, to me, a daughter. I can almost remember the words from the beginning, the same ones that were drilled into my head "You are evil, only evil ones can commit the most horrific murder of all, you killed your mother at birth, it's your fault! She took one look at you and died, you stole her last breath." I can not tell you how many times I have heard this. It ringing so true in my ears. I can only picture me as a child and even more now so, since I have seen Raven. An innocent babe, looking up with stark grey eyes, and little ravend color ringlets, puffed cheeks of sweetness, and lips of crimson shaped into a pout. I often ask myself, how could he hate me so, I could never look upon Raven and feel such hatred, but mayhaps that is my Mother coming out in me? I do not know. He named me Chastity, placing a curse upon my name. So I would remember why my mother died, and it was my fault. "Chastity-the quality or state of being chaste." Something inwhich, should've happend, since I was a bad seed and a mother killer, this name would show to me why, and how...it would guide me throughout my days, and ring back to that day of February 20th. I spent most of my early childhood locked up in a single dark room, a cold dirt floor, with a small ripped blanket. There was no furnature, no toys, just a little tiny small window, some would call it a peep hole. With a thunderous rage he would bound at anytime through the doors, drunken of course "CHASTITY, you little BASTARD! Come HERE" I do not ever remembering having speech, I thought a lot, but I never spoke. I did comply and walk to him each time I was beckoned. I often remembering the smell..the smell of old stale rye, it waifted throughout the room hours after he left. Once when I was about four, he came in with the same thunderous entrance, saying the same monotoned lines "CHASTITY, you BASTARD come here!" I wandered over to him, and remember the strike acrossed my cheek for not moving quick enough. But I didnt dwindle..really. I then looked up at him and I still can remember how handsome he looked, a thick emerald cloak, and his hair slicked back, this time he smelled of sweetness, not of rye. I then smiled for the first time, and he looked down upon me with a soft look for what was only a brief moment, it often makes me wonder at that very moment what was he thinking? feeling? Did he love me? I remember the following strike, but I do not recall the pain, I just recall falling in what seemed like slow motion to the ground, plunging down and down and down. I felt the tug of my foot drag me from the room, as my fingers stretched over the dirty floor, faint sounds of bellowing, as if the words were tuning in and out with static "YOU ARE NOT YOUR MOTHER, YOU WILL NEVER BE HER. NOW YOU WILL PAY FOR TRYING TO BE LIKE HER, YOU ARE JUST A LITTLE BITCH." I remembered those words, because I didnt know their meaning at the time, I learned what this meant later on in life. Soon as I was dragged over the rough terraine, I can still remember my eyes burning from the lights of the room, that pain was unbearable, so I closed them as tight as I could, hoping to drown in the pools of liquid they produced. I was stripped of my clothing because "Bad girls shouldn't have the pleasure of having such finery" now I look back upon the pale, dirty white dress with frayed edges, and three sizes to small, and I think "Finery?" to a four year old it was a princess gown, and I lived in a princess tower, and I have maids, and servants, and gala's, feasts, friends, sisters, brothers, ...a mother. I was chained to a wall, bound by my ankles and punished..for that one smile. In the days to follow, I would hear faint yells of drunkeness, as I sat there. I do not remember how many days I was punished for, but I know the nightfall came seven times. I was then taken out thrown into a water barrel dunked in, without warning to hold my breath and then drawn up by my hair, only to be tossed back into my "princess tower" once again. Many days and nights surpassed one another. Still silent in my thoughts. Until one day, he came in with his entrance marked, and spoke "CHASTITY, do you know what today is?" Well..I didn't, and I shook my head, he remarked "TODAY is the day ye killed your mother, you worthless sewer rat. Six years ago on this very day, but today I won't tell ye what happend to cause your mother's death...but today I come baring a gift." I remember the elation must have shinned ten fold that day, as the room lite by my accordiance. I remember the shrilled wicked laughter he produced, as he flung the large rats at me, and told me it was either my death or theirs. I remember the ferious look in their beady red eyes as the lights dimmed, back into darkness. the sounds of their little mouths puckering and squeeking, as they scampered over the dirty floor, coming for me, my father then took out his dagger and slit my wrist, and then left. The blood drew the rats closer to me, as it dripped one drop at a time, running off my middle finger as my hand laid there, I was unable to move shocked maybe. I dont recall. On that day speech found me, I didnt find it. I shrilled with a scream, ear bleeding, calculating, and ground unearthing. the door flung open...Did I do that? to this very day..I dont know. Was it hope? that day? or was it fate?...then I rose unable to help myself and fleed the scene...I didnt know where or what I was doing, I just ran out, and closed the door behind me before the rats could get me...I felt a strange feeling, maybe it was from the blood loss, I dont know. But I seen my father standing in a doorway, with his back towards me, he was looking down a large row of stairs..stone stairs. What came over me, I dont know...maybe it was the smell of the waifting rye? or all the years of the mental and physical abuse? but something dark rose, and I ran with my full might and shoved him from behind, my hands captured his low back area, and centered as they worked together...throwing anything and everything I could muster into the push, the bottle he weilded fell onto the floor, shattering shards everywhere. He thumped with a loud groan, and then was silent..pain stakingly silent.

{closes her eyes and leans back before she can muster the energy to continue}

Journal Entry: 15 January, Chastity