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@nihil-sina-causa
Non mi snudare senza ragione. Non mi impugnare senza valore.
And yet. What begets me is purgatorious suspension in the realm known colloquially as the Nightmare of Mensis. Wherein I have no choice but to continue my duties may they be yet fruitless to my waning sanity. Perhaps I may be granted respite in the form of this call to the void.
Organisation:
#epistle - asks and answers.
#almanac - a diary of sorts, recordings of my day-to-day observations.
#inscribed - works of art.
“The messengers once you are alone”
“They groan and slowly raise up a beckoning bell and a small resonant bell along with an attached note”
“Oh fair maiden, why is it that you weep?”
I've pondered this for some time now, and have still not yet found a reasonable explanation. The Messengers are a cryptic folk, and while their company is appreciated, I do not have an entirely fair interpretation of this. Strange and dangerous devices these are, paired with an equally provocative note. I've taken to smothering the bells in cloth to null the possibility of an unwanted guest.
The bell is tuned, sir.
Only I would be answering its call and they simply wouldn’t work if a certain someone else got them.
Think of me as a friend of the choir.
Respectfully, dear powderkeg (of whom I am attempting to work my mind around, your weapons are not dissimilar to the rifle wielded upon the left hand of the Holy Blade, no?), this is the first correspondence we have made. I would much rather prefer you write to me the way most do.
Despite being of the hunter’s clade myself, others I am not keen to trust within the grounds of the nightmare. Perhaps in due time I will reconsider the possibility of ringing you. Until then, they remain hidden and smothered still.
- Edgar
“The messengers once you are alone”
“They groan and slowly raise up a beckoning bell and a small resonant bell along with an attached note”
“Oh fair maiden, why is it that you weep?”
I've pondered this for some time now, and have still not yet found a reasonable explanation. The Messengers are a cryptic folk, and while their company is appreciated, I do not have an entirely fair interpretation of this. Strange and dangerous devices these are, paired with an equally provocative note. I've taken to smothering the bells in cloth to null the possibility of an unwanted guest.
your offer is most kind, but our meeting would be ill-advised, i fear. i find myself in an odd state, sanity ebbing and flowing as i retread these twisted grounds. in spite of my involvement with the very institution you infiltrated, i too am not immune to the frenzy so prevalent here. fear not prosecution, as my loyalties have long since wavered. still, i would be loathe to frighten you, should you stumble upon me in a state in a state less-than-sound. moreover, i would like to refrain from raising your hopes, as i happen to don white robes you would be so familiar with.
i, at the very least, shall offer you my name in compromise. in all likelihood, we never crossed paths, within mensis or otherwise, as my own studies were quite isolated, but it costs me nothing to share.
– marcel
Marcel, This I understand quite well, no matter how it evokes a troubling grief to compartmentalize. It is an ugly thing, perhaps, the both of our states, and in retrospect, I am disinclined to seek the result of a double negative, no matter how I may want for a conversationalist aloud. It would be only selfish, and by all means, foolish, even, to further encourage something of such a fickle sort. Regardless, I would like to reiterate my appreciation. I must admit, too, that I am not entirely surprised to learn of your prior affiliations. I fear there is no longer room for persecution from either end - what we have known is naught but crumbling ruins now. "Alliances" are no longer so political as perhaps they once were, and I do not look down upon your allegiance just the same as I would not scorn myself, not at this point, no longer. Sincerely, Edgar
I know what YOU are.
Preposterous.
- Edgar
I know what you are.
Elaboration is a lost art, these darkest days.
Ahem, dear headmaster, they are naming you a homosexual.
- Edgar
To any idle eyes wondering my take on such things: No, I have no idea as to the sudden docile nature of the silverbeasts that seem to do our bidding as couriers. Formerly vicious creatures, gnashing and tormented, they seem so gentle now. - Edgar
“Skittering can be heard around you”
“It’s a deep sea isopod staring up at you with big sad eyes as it munches on the half eaten remains of a silver beast parasite. Likely leftovers stolen from a giant spider crab”
Hello, creature, helping me clean the odds and ends of this daft architecture, are you? Do not fret as I have, with your wet eyes, you, perhaps, are kin to the pressures of this realm. Much more than I. I have no knowledge as to how these beasts could have entered the nightmare, and I suspect it has been driving Micolash mad. However, I am not so put-off by them as one may suspect. While disturbing, yes, there has been a recent hope alighted in my soul that not all horizons are so dark as the eternal night. It is a gentle thing that has put me at some ease regarding my recent unsettlement. - Edgar
worry not about late responses, i can hardly tell the difference anymore.
in keeping with our discussion of regrets, it pains me to tell you that yharnam fares little better than we do here. perhaps it is my attachment to these halls that keeps me from leaving, but even in the most extreme of circumstances, i do not wish to return there. i am unsure of how much our labyrinths cross, but i leave sedatives along my paths in hopes they will find you. lord knows they do nothing for me anymore.
–an admirer
Ah, is that so? Indeed, my worries were not unfounded after all. What a horribly depressing notion. Well, I thank you, "admirer," for bringing me to the closure I have sought. These liquid halls have recalled uncharacteristic kindness. If I may, perhaps we are not of the same nightmare you inhabit, no matter, how I will keep a keen eye for your generosity. It is seldom that an opportunity may present itself. While I've nothing now to offer beyond simple companionship and return addresses to your words, should we come to meet, greet me with resting arms and empty hands, and I will surely return the gesture. Sincerely, Edgar, a willing friend
In lieu of recent happenings, I have decided to accelerate my action to seek the source of the blood-smell lingering. It is no drunk-hunter, it is no beast. It congregates in the lecture hall, and there it seems I must go. Insanity will not wait for my careful planning. - Edgar
You were offered a more enticing bribe, I see?
Enjoy, chorister. Go look your creed in the eye and report back on the worth of whatever you see in its reflection.
Micolash,
Any worth your rotten eyes cannot see is not indicative of its whole. Was that not among your many lessons? I beseech you to examine your mockeries, they are far more telling than you may wish they are.
- Edgar
Re; tags,
*anything.
Go on and trip on your untied laces, won’t you?
- Edgar
In lieu of recent happenings, I have decided to accelerate my action to seek the source of the blood-smell lingering. It is no drunk-hunter, it is no beast. It congregates in the lecture hall, and there it seems I must go. Insanity will not wait for my careful planning. - Edgar
You were offered a more enticing bribe, I see?
Enjoy, chorister. Go look your creed in the eye and report back on the worth of whatever you see in its reflection.
Micolash,
Any worth your rotten eyes cannot see is not indicative of its whole. Was that not among your many lessons? I beseech you to examine your mockeries, they are far more telling than you may wish they are.
- Edgar
In lieu of recent happenings, I have decided to accelerate my action to seek the source of the blood-smell lingering. It is no drunk-hunter, it is no beast. It congregates in the lecture hall, and there it seems I must go. Insanity will not wait for my careful planning. - Edgar
“Before you on the bridge into the loft is a pale white horse. It’s neighs once then twice before turning around and disappearing from sight. Investigation would yield nothing as the horse has seemingly vanished into thin air”
I fear I may be losing my wits in ways other than the aches and undefinable geometries that do not leave me. In any haphazard attempt, I have recorded what has seemingly transpired upon one of my many strolls from both ends of the skyway. My very mind has sought to betray me with the vision of something so painfully close to anything beyond the nightmare. No matter my attempt to give chase to the animal, I could not catch it. Has it been so long that the lines between memory and my grim reality are blurred, oh, I will not find mercy. - Edgar
Intelligencer? I hardly knew her
I have no idea what this means. - Edgar
do you regret your infiltration of mensis? do you even know what's become of yharnam in your absence?
–an admirer
If you may, pardon the delay between this reaching me and my answer. It is yet another question I don't find terrible joy in answering. Regret, perhaps, is the wrong term. What was done was done so dutifully and with respect to the organisation that raised ideals of communion with the Great Ones. It was by no means a fruitless task, nor one that I would consider to be prone to regret. It was an act of protection, one may say, from the Mensite habits of brutalism. I should be ashamed of myself for thinking of it as anything short of an honour to the Choir. I do not hold myself to delusion, and I am acutely aware of my pointlessness at the time being, though, to name it regret for my years spent in service would only lead me to further ruin. However, the thought does not evade me of what it might've been had I refused. Micolash and I were particularly amicable, and truthfully, for that fact, I remain surprised I was selected to begin with. Though I have always been rather unassuming, and while I firmly believe our terms would've degraded regardless of my position in his life, perchance, in some ways, it would've been different to be further removed. There is an innumerable number of hypotheticals to such a thing. If there were someone of his to have taken my place and recognized the doomed effort of the ritual, had I not sat idly by, had I not been so encouraged to see it through until the bitter end... You must understand. These are damning fantasies, and I should digress. No, I have no knowledge of the current Yharnam. Though I may express my grim suspicions. Our hunters lay exhausted, the vicar, dying. Yharnam's defenses were waning terribly, and the people were undoubtedly soon to lose their tether to comfortable ignorance. It saddens me that I may be the last speaker of our once-standing parliament, and it is precisely for that thought that I emphasize my aforementioned stance upon "regret." Not without guilt, Edgar
do you miss the church by any chance
Yes, terribly. - Edgar
“A suspicious box lays on the floor infront of you. Upon being opened it is filled with Numerous Large deep sea isopods which skitter around and inevitably escape further into the nightmare”
I specifically requested less isopods. At least the crab was creative. There are only so many things one can do with isopods. I am tiring of isopods.
@this-is-nurse these will be forwarded to you. Enjoy doing whatever you do with them.
MY PET GAVE ME GIFT AND PRESENTS
HOW DO I REWARD IT
At the risk of indiscretion, and, frankly, complete horror at your communicative abilities:
I believe the dean (as you name, “cagey”) would appreciate anything that may hinder his work. You and I alike surely know how… Absorbed… He becomes, anything to slow such progress is likely a welcome break. You’d understand my logic, yes?
My thanks,
Edgar
