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+--- Thread: The accounts (journal) of Auriana Wynter. (/showthread.php?tid=7616)
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RE: The accounts (journal) of Auriana Wynter. - Auri - 08-13-2014
Inside a lavish, and beautifully decorated room, Auriana lays her head back and submerges herself in the bath. She would remain under the water for as long as she could hold her breath. Opening those so very pale colored eyes, she looks up out of the water at the ceiling. Distorted by the water, it occurs to her that like the ceiling, her life too, is distorted.
Slowly, comes up. for several moments more, she relaxes in the warm water. She looks around the bath and at the beauty that surrounds her. The days events having left her in a fairly calm state of mind, she decides it best to turn in for the night now rather than latter. Reaching for a towel, she rises. Water dripping from her body making tiny splashing noises which breaks the silence of the room.
She can not help but notice how soft the towel is as she dry herself, and holds it against her face. As she gathers her clothes, Auriana catches her reflection. Her platinum hair with its pink highlights soaking wet, dangling all around her face, laying on her shoulders. She can not recall the last time she had seen herself with her hair down.
Carefully, she dries it as best she can with a towel, patting and squeezing as not to tangle it. She can not help but stare at her own reflection and wonder why. Why it is that she should receive compliment. She had never considered herself beautiful. She puts her cloths on with almost somber movements, sad perhaps that she must leave such a beautiful place. Though it has been opened to her for if and when she should need it, her respect for its owner and the silent fear deep inside will forbid her to form attachment right now.
As she slips her top over her head, the little leather covered book falls to the floor. Eying it while she ties her hair back, she considers making an entry. With a soft smile, she bends down to pick it up. In doing so, she undoes it's ties and opens it as she sits on the corner of a bed. She takes a moment to think about what to say.
Today was a good day, and I am ever greatfull
This would be the only entry she would make this day. With a thoughtful smile, she ties the little books binding and hides it away inside the top. Slowly she heads for the door. She opens the door and is about to step out when she pauses, and takes one look back inside the room. One last smile, she exits and closes the door behind her.
RE: The accounts (journal) of Auriana Wynter. - Auri - 08-15-2014
Well, it started off a good day. Seeing as how the moonfire is full swing, I decided to spend some of the gil I had gotten from the last hunt on some festive clothes. I don't know why really. I suppose I was just trying to be normal, like everyone else. I'm trying, I really am.
I knew this would be hard, but I didn't know just how hard. Things were going well, and I felt alright. But then, something I did not foresee. I had seen the horrors the so called camp doctors have left in their wakes. I have witnessed unspeakable things at their hands, and myself nearly taken to be sold by one of them.
Now I don't know what in the seven hells came over me, but when I seen the doctor up close, I began to panic. As hard as I tried to hold it inside, in the end, it proved more than I could bare. The unfounded notions intruding my good sense was bad enough, but to actually let it show and then speak it? The twelve must have had a sense of humor this night.
After embarrassing myself to the point of wishing to crawl under the floor, it turns out the doctor is kind. The words spoken to me were understanding and comforting at the same time. I broke one of my own rules. Rule seven, never judge lest you be judged. I did just that. And in kind, I felt just like the fool I was. My behavior inexcusable, and a mistake that will not soon be repeated.
However understanding my new found friends may be, I shamed myself. And now, I must do what I can to remedy this, in my own eye if no one elses. I am finding that the more I try to look past my own plight, the more it comes to light. The harder I try to forget that my past eludes me, the more reminders I find of that very fact. The more I wish to let go, the more I realize that to do so I must have answers.
A most inconvenient paradox.
RE: The accounts (journal) of Auriana Wynter. - Auri - 08-16-2014
Rarely have I seen such celebration as I have today. Everything so new to me, yet so familiar. I can not call upon a time when I have laughed and smiled so much. For a better part, I did not notice how many were there. Being around so many at once is difficult, but with so much to see and hear I didn't care.
It felt, nice. As much as I have enjoyed my own downtime, I fear I must do some work. My mind idle for far too long, is not lending aid to my sleep. It is increasingly difficult to find sleep when the mind is rarely still. I'm finding myself going until exhaustion or the influence of drink takes me. Both of which are out of my normal practice.
Drink clouds judgement and slows reaction and dulls the senses. Exhaustion costs strength and speed as well as dulls the mind. This simply will not do. Here, where I am yes I can afford a little relaxation. But complacency is the downfall of many. I feel comfortable enough here that nothing ill will befall me in such a mindset. Though to become complacent would be a mistake on my part regardless.
I can hear a saying, though I do not know where it comes. 'Leave a blade rest in its sheath long enough, and it will loose it's edge.' I do not know where I have heard that, but it does hold a bit of truth. Perhaps I am just not accustomed to remain in one place for more than one moon. My lack of social skill becoming more evident with each sunrise. Remaining idle much longer, and it will not be long before the inevitable questions come forth.
How in the seven hells will I answer? To taste a lie is bitter and fouls my very being. To speak truth is painful and shameful. I shall pray to the twelve that day does not come anytime soon. Any other time, I would just pack up and move on as I have done countless times before. But this time is different.
For the first time since I've taken to wandering Eorzea, I have found a place where I feel as I belong. I am happy here, and I do not want to wander anymore. I will find a way, or face my shame. The days of running away are over. For now, rest. I shall acquire assignment soon, of that I am certain. Then I will not have to think about such unpleasant things.
RE: The accounts (journal) of Auriana Wynter. - Auri - 08-19-2014
Another dead end. I had thought that if I visited the hunting grounds I had first stalked upon my arrival in Erozea some spark of recollection might occur. I could not have been more wrong. Instead I am more frustrated than ever. Sleep is becoming more like stolen moments than meaningful rest.
My timing may have been for the best. After hearing the news of the fallen, I anticipate unrest. Although none seem to share my sentiment, I can not help but brace for what may come. I do hope with all my heart that I am only being cautious and nothing more. Still, as my own torment is ever present I feel my self growing anxious. Perhaps it is indeed the absence of sleep.
Yet, as my mood fouls my patience thins and my vision dims. There must be a means to an end. There must be a way to make peace with the demons that torment me. The twelve know I will not rest until I do. And not of my own choosing. This limb that I find myself resting upon is bound to break, it is only a matter of when.
RE: The accounts (journal) of Auriana Wynter. - Auri - 08-24-2014
I can't help but wonder, who exactly is looking for this man. And why me? Besides the fact I've been known to undertake such jobs in the past, I see no explanation as to why I should be entrusted with this one. This one feels like there is much more going on here than a simple Elezen gone missing.
It's been several days now, and I only just now got my first solid information. I figure it time to report in. I'm back at the house, and things here are what I have come to see as normal. Plenty going on around me, but I can only think of the task at hand. For instance, I'm sitting here with several of my counterparts around me engaging in conversations that I am oblivious to. Yet all I can think about is the leads I have, and the leads I do not.
So many things, so many pieces that are missing still, which prevent me from picking up the trail of my mark. Someone has gone through a great deal of trouble to make this man vanish. And someone has gone through more trouble still to put me on his trail. It makes me curious, how far will this unknown party go? How far are they willing to go to find this elezen? And even more obscure, what is so important that someone is so willing to go such lengths?
I suppose this is what I have been wishing for, to find the answers to someone elses troubles so that I may forget mine. I have heard it said on occasion, 'be careful what you wish for.' Am I to learn the moral to that phrase at last? Somewhere deep in my gut, I get the feeling that I may indeed. However the, rest of me thinks this just another job. We shall see which part of me is correct. If my limited history that my broken memory can illuminate, I fear the depths of my own self shout the loudest on this one.
Best I put this away for now. While I lack refined social graces, I know enough to know that writing in a journal in a room full of people, could be considered rude.