(( ooc hi i had an emotional Moment so have Kishar thinking about their friends and family
also available on ao3 ))
The strangest thing, they thought, about having been alone for so long and then being surrounded by friends was how much brighter everything felt. Too long they had felt the cold sting of loneliness, so long that they had grown numb to it, letting it become their new normal. The waves of frozen nights, and dull days full of icy shards were previously warmed only by the brief interludes they had interacting with their coworkers. Were they even coworkers, or just people who worked in the same building? There was no camaraderie, no workplace banter, just people existing in the same place.
It was dull, bland. Was it any wonder they had found joy in violence, in the little splashes of red in an otherwise grey world? They didn’t enjoy looking back on those days, on the rush that hurting others had given them, but all the same… they couldn’t find it in themself to truly say they had no reason for it. They had no steady contact with others, no friends, no family, so could they really blame themself for taking the warmth of others? For taking that spark in the hopes of lighting a fire in themself that they alone couldn’t ignite? Even the guilt couldn’t take away the quiet, lingering hope that maybe this time, maybe this time it will be enough, maybe this time I’ll feel complete, maybe this time I’ll be satisfied.
They never were, but… well, best not to dwell on the past.
They had never realised how grey everything was, before. Walls dull, a basic cream or darkish blues, if they were painted at all. Off-white tiles that never recaptured whatever brilliance they used to have, stained with the despair of all that walked the halls for the last time, of the dirt on the soles of those who did the unspeakable with hearts as unclean as their shoes. Bleach never seemed to do the trick. At least the grey granite flooring felt honest, dark as the eyes they could see in the break rooms they passed, tired and weary and burdened by unspeakable woes.
How had they survived, truly, without a colour in their life save for the blue sky? How long had they stared up at it, wondering why it of all things seemed so bright, so bold, while the rest of the world was so dim and retreating? How many days had they spent, wishing they could rest on one of those soft white clouds, and flown away to a land painted in colours they had never dreamed of? Their dreams of a kingdom woven with joy and peace and brightness could fill their new room tenfold, shining with the light of a thousand stars.
And then… When did OSHA start becoming brighter? Was it when they first began interacting with others, truly? When did they first see the world in shades other than dull, desaturated blues? Was it Mer’s green that first brightened their life? The reds of Jackie and Hetemit? Mike’s brown eyes and hair, perhaps, or Runaway’s pink hair? When did the word Silver mean friend first, and colour second? When did the cold, the dark, begin to recede back? Not a lack of shadows, but a variation of brightness, of light and shade, of hues pastel and neon and saturated and alive?
They couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but they could tell you when they noticed. When they held Fleet, and their heart seemed to melt, that light inside them burning bright enough to warm the child in their arms. When they saw Mer smile, or held Hetemit, or cooked with Mike. When they listened to Vern talk, when they reunited with Utur and Alam, even when they spent time with Gary they felt so warm, not the expected cold of space that its stardust would suggest.
Visiting Ere, watching movies with Offy, getting something to eat with Emmet, visiting the Janitor’s Glade with Armine… each interaction made the fire in them burn brighter, burn stronger, and the world seemed to change along with them. Astatine and Avit and Austin, dave and Alicia and so, so many others, making their world shine and sparkle and live, each bringing their own colours and warmth and love with them. Making them feel so much more, so much better… as if a hole inside them had finally been filled. A wound, healed.
So many people, so many friends and family members and acquaintances and every other manner of person someone could know, making the halls feel vibrant and wonderful, even as terrible things happened, even as people got hurt, got killed, manipulated… it never lost that glow, that joy that now filled the walls. Every new person a new friend, every new interaction a chance to grow that inferno that now filled them. It made them want to protect everyone here, to hold them and curl around them and make all their worries fade away.
They had lived at OSHA for so long, they knew every wall, every door, every window. Even as it grew and changed, they still learned so fast it was practically instant. And yet now places had new meanings, new definitions. They met someone there, had a conversation there, that place is someone’s favourite place to read or hide away if things get too much. The places that used to have no meanings were suddenly so full of them it felt like the walls couldn’t contain everything. OSHA felt like it was breathing for the first time in its existence.
And Kishar? Kishar felt like they were finally home.
(( ooc: janitor lore fic time! It’s not the longest I’ve ever written but I think it gives a nice insight into The Janitor’s daily life! I don’t think there’s anything that needs to be warned for, at least for this fic specifically, but let me know if I should tag anything! Fic under the cut ))
You are The Janitor, and you are very good at cleaning.
Morning is a strange time for you. You don’t really… sleep, not all of you, so it feels less like the beginning of a day, and more the beginning of a routine obstacle course. It’s easier to clean at night, where most employees are asleep. You generally can find any messes without problem, though sometimes you’re called in for something big. It doesn’t happen too often - only if it’s something that needs to be cleaned immediately, most of the time. It doesn’t bother you that you usually have to intuit where you need to be. You are very good at finding your way around.
Things feel quieter during the night. During the day there’s always some kind of buzz, and it’s most obvious during the morning. Employees arriving, or moving from sleeping quarters to their offices. There’s a hush at night that day never seems to replicate, even when the nearest voice is far, far away. You can always hear the humming, tapping, whistling that indicates someone working, a machine turning on, typing, the list goes on. It used to frustrate you, but now you tune it out, a casual background dissonance that makes the day feel lively. Like you aren’t alone. Not like you’re really alone at night. But that isn’t important.
The mornings often have a surplus of trash - breakfast seems to be one of the most popular meals of the day to you. You’ve never been one for traditional mealtimes, but you usually catch a quick snack while everyone else eats. You’re very aware of the messes and stains possible here - people seem… less coordinated in the morning, you think. You hover around the edges of break rooms, slip through corridors, and pass by doors as the rest of OSHA chatters, sipping coffee or complaining about the early morning. You don’t join in. You speak more now than you did when you were younger, but that doesn’t mean you go out of your way to seek conversation. The words always seem to scratch your throat.
You usually focus on the less populated areas during the day. Abandoned rooms, areas in need of sterilization, quiet corners where work can’t be done. You make sure not to disturb anyone - you would hate for your work to be disrupted, so you make sure not to disturb others. On the off chance you’re required to clean an occupied room, you make sure to stay quiet, stay disinteresting. You rarely get noticed, these days. You’ve heard things when people thought they were alone. It rarely catches your interest. You’ve heard a lot of things. (You’ve seen a lot of things too.)
You have areas you like or dislike cleaning. You’re not the biggest fan of areas that require detailed work in large quantities. After all, other people hardly bother with sanitizing sharp objects they don’t interact with often. You’ve seen every kind of stain known to OSHA, you think. At least, until someone finds a new one. You find yourself looking forwards to the challenge sometimes, other times despairing that it may take up longer than you can spare to fix. Regardless, you’re able to keep things in a fairly pristine state. You often wonder if anyone notices.
Lunch time always seems to roll around earlier than you expect. You usually choose to duck into the empty offices around this time. Someone has always left a crumpled up ball of paper in the corner of a cubicle, or thrown away a pen or two, or overflowed the trash cans and other waste receptacles with things that may or may not belong in there. You aren’t a fan of sorting out the recyclables and non-recyclables, but you’re hardly going to neglect that task, either. Part of you wonders what the difference is, really. The rest of you stuffs that thought down violently.
It feels like you’re always finding a broken window right after the lunch rush these days. Never the same one either. It’s starting to annoy you. Don’t the people here know that broken glass is dangerous? You’ve never found something that could have broken the window either. At least sometimes the windows break outwards. You’re The Janitor, not The Groundskeeper. You only deal with inside the buildings. This is good, as the buildings are very large. Regardless, You fill your trash bags with glass dutifully, making sure everything is clean before marking it and moving on. You’ll replace the panes and bars later. It’s too hard to get them through from storage during the day.
Sometimes, as the day slips into afternoon, and afternoon to evening, you find something… unusual. Of course, evening isn’t the only time you find these things, but it’s one of the most common times while the sun is up. You’re never fond of unusual things. They usually make so much mess, far more than usual, scores more than what you enjoy cleaning. They rarely stay in one spot too. You’d say they were afraid of you, if a mess could feel. (Part of you thinks they can. You don’t entertain this thought. It gets in the way). You make sure the area is pristine before you leave. After all, nobody likes an unusual mess.
The time when everyone begins to leave, or at least stop working, is melancholy for you. You find the night calming, but there’s a charm to the day that the night can’t replicate. There’s a sort of loneliness that falls around you as you watch people move through the halls, leaving you alone to continue your cleaning. Of course, not everyone stops working as the sun sets, but the darker it gets, the more an unbreakable silence seems to fall over the halls. You can still hear things, if you listen, but these things are often distracting. Unnecessary. Quite frequently, they aren’t your business, either. You're not the type to gossip. You’re not the type to eavesdrop. And yet… you think you may know more dirty little secrets than you want to.
(You know a lot more than you want to.)
Once night has settled, you make your rounds. You rarely have to change them, but there are requests occasionally. You don’t think you’ve ever been asked to clean the vents, though. You asked, once, why that was. You didn’t ask again. (There’s no part of you that liked the answer.) You don’t question the requests these days. So what if you don’t clean the vents? It won’t affect you if the air quality drops, and if it does affect anyone… well, you’ll just have more of a mess to clean up.
You’ve seen other people in the halls at night. They’re the ones who notice you the most. Rarely are you approached. The few times you have been were brief. You do not like to be disturbed while cleaning. There are no exceptions to that rule - save for the nice little electronic communications you’ve set up recently. You’ve made your dislike of interruptions very clear. It isn’t your fault if someone finds out the consequences of pushing you. If they needed your attention, they could simply message you. Even before, you had a little pager, telling you what was necessary to clean and what to avoid. It’s only been upgraded a few times. The phone you use now was a gift, a reward for a good work ethic you believe.
You don’t idle on the job. Not at night, nor during the day. If you idle, you think. If you think, you remember. You’ve seen plenty of pleasant things, yes, but you’ve seen things that you doubt anyone would call pleasant. You’ve seen OSHA violations. You’ve seen accidents. You’ve seen… unusual things. You don’t want to remember them.
(Sometimes you remember when you first came here.
Those times, you go looking for unusual messes.
You want to forget.)
Occasionally, after a hard night’s work, you’ll let yourself watch the sunrise. It has a magical quality that you can’t really replicate. You can’t feel the warmth through the thick glass of the windows, but sometimes you catch it while replacing a pane. It’s calming. Nobody’s ever caught you doing this. You think, maybe, it would be nice to watch with someone, someday. Perhaps if you receive an intern of your own. You doubt you will. You are very good at your job. You don’t need an intern. You haven’t needed anyone for a long time. All you need is your broom, and your work. You’re off again before anyone arrives, checking the bins for the last time.
(( ooc the start of a new event,,, story is mostly under the cut bc long ))
It was supposed to just be another day. Another calm, peaceful moment in the relative stillness that had taken over OSHA. Nothing too groundbreaking or reality warping happening. Just smaller, slightly less life-or-death situations here and there. Nothing... awful. Just a normal, quiet day.
Utur and Kish were resting on the grounds, chatting casually underneath one of the trees, heads resting together as they spoke, quietly. Mostly meaningless things - shapes in the clouds, the smell of flowers, and things like that. Just... little things, to pass the time.
Without warning, a loud crack ripped through the air, as if someone had thrown a giant marble statue at a concrete floor. A dark pink crack in the air flickered to life, then split open into a large, round rift. It glowed ominously, and while the other side was obscured, there was clearly a figure through the other side.
A figure who was immediately stepping through.
Utur pulled Kish close to them, protectively, as the familiar form of Alam stepped through the rift, carefully, as if he expected to trip. Utur and Kish stared at him for a while, in silence, as Alam did the same, blue eyes meeting blue and green as the quiet stretched on uncomfortably.
A moment later, and Alam dropped to his knees, clearly either bowing or grovelling in front of the other two, and when he spoke, his words were some Utur had never expected to hear from him in their life.
"I am sorry for the way I treated both of you. I was wrong. My actions were wrong."
Utur paused, watching him with an expression of disbelief. They'd never thought they would hear anything like that from Alam save for in their wildest, most desperate dreams.
"You Are?"
The quiet, desperate hope in Kishar's voice broke Utur's heart to hear. They knew how much Alam meant to them. How much they wanted him to be proud of them, to love them... And with how they'd been trying so desperately to be a better person, they were already predisposed to giving people the benefit of the doubt...
"I am. I do not know how long it has been for you since I was last here, but I had a lot of time to do nothing but reflect on my actions, and... I realised I was wrong. I treated you poorly because I did not think you were a real person. I was egotistical and thought I was always in the right, even though I did terrible, awful things that were never justifiable. I manipulated you, Utur, because of your feelings... I used the fact that people looked up to me for my own ends. I was a terrible person."
... they had to be dreaming. Right? Alam coming back, realising he had done wrong, apologizing and recognising that he had been a bad person... that can't be real, right?
"I cannot attone for what I have done to the rest of my apprentices, but... I can at least try and make up for what I have done with you two. If there is any way I can repent for what I have done, please... I want to. You deserved better."
Utur couldn't stop Kishar from flinging themself at Alam, clinging to him tightly and nuzzling his shoulder, happy tears streaming from their eyes.
"It-It Is Okay! You Recognise You Were Wrong, Um! You, You Can Start Learning How To Be A Good Person Now!"
They watched closely as Alam hugged Kishar back for the first time in either of their lives, Kishar purring loudly as they hid their face in Alam's shoulder... like a child seeing their parent for the first time after a while apart. This felt... wrong. Alam would never admit he'd made a mistake. Never admit he had flaws. And Kishar... poor Kishar, too forgiving, desperately clinging to the idea that anyone can be a good person.
Utur paused, watching the other two. Something was... up. For Alam to be acting like this... there had to be a reason, right? Some underlying plan, some... something. He couldn't have really just... decided to change. That's not the kind of person he was. What was his game here...?
"i... i can't trust that you've just decided to improve. not after everything."
Alam gave them a sad smile, and if they didn't know him they'd almost believe he was being genuine.
"I understand. I have manipulated you too much to trust me, and I will not ask for you to give me the benefit of the doubt. But I hope to at least begin making up for the harm I have caused."
He smiled, and Utur cursed their traitorous heart, feeling it leap at the sight. Why? Why can't they just get rid out their damnable feelings for this man? Whatever his plan is right now, they need to be on their toes, so they can protect Kishar, not melting just because he smiled at them!
Something was amiss. Something was up. Either Alam was planning something... or...
Or he was laying a trap.
Either way, Utur wasn't going to let themself or Kish get caught in it. Not again. Not him. This time, they were going to protect themself. Protect Kishar.
(( tw death, tw gore, tw body horror, tw blood, descriptions of pain, minific under the cut ))
*This never gets easier, they think. At least this time they died near-instantaniously, bleeding out always feels worse. They still feel the sting of Embroidery’s hand through their chest; they know for a fact there’s a hole in the body they left behind now. They’re glad they never shift anything internal where they can avoid it, at least that meant they didn’t have to feel the snap of bones or the shap jolt of a lot lung. Still, it wasn’t comfortable.
They can’t focus, each body falling to the ground as they gasp for air they don’t need, hands gripping their chest, trying to pull out metal claws that aren’t there. They can’t stop themself curling up, mind spread across a hundred bodies in no specific way. They can’t concentrate on anything, not their surroundings, not anyone nearby, all they know is they hurt. Their breathing is ragged, choking on blood that isn’t there, crying out for someone who isn’t there.
The phantom pain slices through them. and they let out a pained shriek, body becoming slightly glossier as they try to cry without eyes. They can’t stop themself from howling in agony as they claw at their torso, body aflame in remembered pain. They sob, calling out for Mer, for Gerald, for anyone who could help them.
A thought pierces through their mind. Gerald. He’s still there, still with Embroidery, still in danger. They love Embroidery sososososo much but she’s so angry right now, they have to... they have to go. And even if Embroidery’s left, or calmed, or something, they still need to hold him. Still need to give him the comfort he’s owed. Pushing their mind to focus on the body closest to the exit is a heculian effort, and they shift it into human form without a moment’s pause, echoes of a body that can no longer move pulling the form from their mind without hesitation.
One step. One more. One more.
They cling to the wall, ignoring their other bodies curled up in agony, ignoring this body’s pain, phantom muscle tears screaming at every move they make, knees weak and head spinning. One more step. You can do it. Just one more. One more. Focus on your goal, ignore the pain, ignore the exhaustion, keep going. You can do it, just a little more.
Their eyes, hidden beneath their fringe, flash with determination.
Slowly, painfully, the Janitor begins to make their way back to Union Castle.*
(( ooc so I wrote a thing for Alam - because I had Ideas and wanted to give him some character development, which he Does Not Want. tws for descriptions of abuse, manipulation etc from the manipulator's pov. Local evil dude has an epiphony, immediately regrets it ig asdfaksdjf ))
So much free time, nothing much to do. I almost miss the void - well, no I do not, but I am thinking about it. I may as well pass my time somehow. Writing might work.And why not write about myself? I am as good a topic as any, and apparently I was never part of an important documented part of history, so a paper about myself would certainly be a fun way to pass the time. And a little introspection never hurt anyone. Well, it hurts people with doubts, but there is absolutely no way I could ever doubt anything I have done. After all, I am analytical, a planner, and smart. There is no harm in a little personal history essay to kill some time. So, let us get something out the way first:
I am not a bad person.
Well, I know many people would disagree with me, but I do not think I am a bad person. I simply have an abrasive personality, and people like to pretend I am not right a lot of the time. -
… That came out wrong. Let me start over.
Who am I? I am He Alam. I do not have a last name. I do not need a last name. After all, how many people do you see around here with the name Alam? Or back when I was human. I thought the name was cool, and I did not realise it was not a common one okay? It was not my intention to be anach egotistical and ‘special’ with my name. I just thought it fit me. I like it, and it is my name, so there. Where I was born specifically is not important. My parents are immigr also not important. I really should have written this in pencil instead of pen.
What do I do? Well, I was a scientist. Probably one of the first, chronologically speaking. I brought prosperity to my home, and knowledge to the people who lived there! I helped everyone, made things easier, kept people safe and healthy. I helped the people around me out of the goodness of my heart! I did not have to, but it was so inconvenient and annoying I just had to I was kind enough to share my knowledge with everyone! Everyone appreciated my advice and inventions, I was responsible for so many good things there. I was smarter than everyone else, so it was really my duty to help them, was it not?
Everyone there was just so dull though. Nobody really thought of anything further than day to day life, or sometimes long term survival. You really had to push people to think about anything more than food and health. And I get it, really I do, but I just could not live like that! I am a creative soul, I cannot just… satisfy myself with survival. What is the point of living if there is no beauty, no light, no joy in it? Luckily my friend Utur certain like-minded members of the community were willing to help me stave off my neverending boredom whenever I ended up getting through my chores ten times faster than everyone else. I honestly do not think I could have survived without some enrichment! I miss
I decided quite early on that I was going to make my own lab a little further out, to really learn about this place, to figure out how everything worked, how to make things better, stronger, faster, everything! And of course, I had to have apprentices working for me and it was so easy to make Uturs parents turn on them, they were already spiteful towards them for not doing as they were told, at least I saw them for who they were and not who I wanted them to be and I needed them more anyway many joined me on my journey to find the best place for the laboratory. I chose an area decently far away from civilization so nothing would negatively affect the local population, in the case of an accident, though that did mean we needed to be self-sufficient. But I knew how irrigation worked, so we were not totally at square one.
My lab was an incredible place, for the time I created it. Sure, some may not have been impressed you try making a sliding door before the invention of iron sometime, Ellasyn, see how it works for you but most saw how much work I had put into the building. Most were in awe of how much I managed to create. I learned so much! So much about the world around me, about the world’s magic system, about everything. Creatures and skills and all sorts! I knew so much. I was probably the most intelligent human alive at the time. And I worked for that title, dammit! I did my absolute best!
And then came the creature Kishar, I should use their name who brought me so many new epiphonies! It they? I heard they use it and they both was an absolute Gods-send, allowing me to pursue so many different avenues I had never even thought of before! I had power, means, and ability now! It was a renewable power source the likes of which I had never imagined possible for that time! I could do so much more, far more than I had ever hoped! And it regenerated, so I could do all sorts of research on it without causing permanent damage - the perfect test subject!
They were a child, oh gods they were a child - why did I not believe Utur? How could I have done that - I thought they were just a mindless automaton but they were a child -
There were some… issues. Like that bastard who turned up and blew up one of my walls. I do not regret stabbing him. Kind of still want to stab him but I cannot right now. Even though I really, really want to. Those walls took ages to make! I had to inscribe so many runes on the damn things to make sure they were working properly - how the fu-dge did that person even turn up, anyway? As far as I was aware, there were no white people around for miles at the time. Did not even have a damn tan. Turned up looking like a loaf of bread made a humansona then decided to become edgy. And his hair looks ridiculous.
Enough about him. I will start breaking things if I think any more about him.
Ellasyn. I enjoyed working with her. She was smart, willing to go with my experiments, and finally an intellectual equal! I had missed talking about things with Utur She was a breath of fresh air compared to most of my apprentices. None of them bothered to look further than the end of their noses for inspiration and just copied what I told them to do. They were much better used as test subjects. She actually offered suggestions instead of just praising me. I could even involve her in experiments I considered… sensitive. Utur would never have approved -
Parting with her was a pity, but I needed her memories for the magnet. Well, I call it a magnet, but it was so much more complex and beautiful than that. Using a tear in time and space to draw beings from any and every reality to my lab? A stroke of genius! After all, why only learn about my own reality, when there was so much more I could research? I just needed to place the creature I am so sorry little one into a controlling setup so reality would not be torn apart, and it was perfect. Of course, that was when things had to go wrong.
I do not regret my experiments into turning a human into an eldritch being. Had I known it was not needed, I would simply have not attempted them at all. After all, almost all of them were failures I am sorry Utur I just needed to know and a waste of precious resources. Of course, when I finally succeeded sorry sorry sorry I, of course, knew there was no time to waste when it came to making myself eldritch. After all, I was brought born here for a reason. If I was not meant to gain power, why would I have been given the means to do so? Surely something would have stopped me by then? And besides, I needed the power. Nobody can blame me for that.
I just wanted to go home
Admittedly I went a little… overboard on how much I wanted power, but of course, who does not these days? I mean really, considering how many… unusual beings are at OSHA these days, wanting to be in a position of power makes sense, does it not? And the knowledge I could gain as an eldritch being… I could see things no human could dare hope for, learn things never before revealed to mortal minds! And really, who does not think they could do things better than the current administration? After all, I am hardly the only one who saw the world and decided they could make things better.
… Being trapped in that… place, for years on end? I could have done without. It was infuriating, insulting, horrible, and I wanted out immediately afterwards. My captors assumed I would die soon after being released. But I showed them. I showed them all.
Never again never again I was so hungry and I somehow knew it would make me stronger but it was awful awful awful -
My time in the void - well, it was technically a side-area of the void, not quite a reality but not quite the void proper - was dull. I fought people, found things to eat, and planned. I learned things of course, but I was hardly able to make it my full time occupation anymore. Such a pity, because it was fascinating there. Incredibly frustrating, but fascinating. People seemed to think I was some sort of criminal, when they were sapient enough to regard me as anything more than a quick snack or a threat. The minutiae of each day was meaningless, is meaningless, and always will be meaningless. It was just a long stretch of eat, find somewhere to rest, scrape together some meagre amount of knowledge, fight, and repeat ad nauseum. Not much to say about it other than that. It was not worth much. But getting out? Well, that certainly was.
My… original return did not go as planned. I was… too enthused about being connected to the outside world. Too eager, too excited. I did not think things through. I made the lab a Lair, completely by accident, I made my presence known too early, I was foolish. If I could do it all again… well, I certainly would not have let myself be baited by silly taunts like that. I would have been subtle, been clever, been… kinder to them, Kishar did not deserve what I did to them. I would have returned with nobody the wiser. I would have recognised Ellasyn faster, recognised him. I would have been merciful to Utur. I miss them so much sometimes it hurts.
I can pick out all of my flaws now, in retrospect. Hindsight is twenty twenty, as they say. I was a fool. I expected my win to be completely uncontested. I ignored the fact OSHA was full of extremely powerful beings. I ignored that my actions would have consequences. I will not do so again. After all, I am fully aware that if I go head to head against one, I will be going against all of them now. I am not powerful enough to take all of them on at the same time. Not yet. My approach has to be slower. More careful.
Kishar… even after all I did to them, they still see me as a parent. I do not know why. I have hurt them so much I should never be allowed near them again. And yet they care about me, and I find myself wanting to reciprocate that emotion. I care about them. I wish I was not so stubborn back then. What might life be like if I had listened to Utur, treated Kishar like the child they are? Would we be happy now? Would looking after Kishar with Utur have left me more grounded, kept me from spiralling off into the power hungry mess I became? Would we be close? Would I have been a good man?
I cannot let myself think about that now. If I start to doubt myself…
I will not let myself be distracted this time. I will be sensible, plan ahead. I will not let my facade break, not for anything or anyone. I will fulfil my plan and nothing will stand in my way. Still, this part of the plan leaves a lot of time for reflection…
I need to stop reflecting on things. If I let myself think about the past, I might doubt my actions. And if I decide I was wrong… then I am truly a monster.
I should… practice. I have not used my powers for a very long time, and I cannot rely on being in my lab for every fight I might be in. I need to make sure my skills are up to scratch.
… Perhaps Kishar would like to practice with me.
They look just like me. I am sorry, little one. I am so, so sorry. But it is far too late to stop things now. I have committed to this path, and there is no hope for me anymore. I can barely even acknowledge my own mistakes. I would not be surprised if I burn this paper once the ink dries.The idea that I might have become a monster beyond my own imagining hurts, is so agonising I cannot describe it. I never wanted to be here, and it was so easy to slip when everyone thought me godly. I thought I could never make mistakes.I still find considering it so hard. Part of me hates myself for being so weak right now, and part of me hates the fact I will not just give up on my plans. I do not know what to do anymore. I am doubting myself but I cannot stop.
Maybe someday… things will be better for us. For you. I wish things were simpler. That we could just be
I wish
I just
I… I am proud of you. For doing what I could not. I am proud to call you my child.
I wish I could tell you that.
I wish I…
… I need to stop wasting my time with this useless rambling. It is all meaningless anyway. Not like anyone is going to read it. Most of it was complete nonsense, and absolutely ridiculous. Not every thought is worth putting to paper, let alone those so pathetic as some of those. And I am almost out of ink anyway.
(( ooc okay so i want to do more writing, so I'll be posting short "Journal Entries" that are full of lore canon to Utur and Alam's timeline. This will include real world information about ancient messapotamia! Which will likely have some level of error, since I'm not a professional anthropologist rip, but it should be interesting either way! I won't be putting another author's note on any of these after this, save for any content warnings. I hope you enjoy this! :) ))
There's an old journal here... it looks weathered. Some of the pages are missing... but the first one is readable. You pick it up, and open it to the first page.
Entry One, October Third, XXXX
Let me begin this entry by detailing my intent for this journal; Whilst I do intend to include my journal entries as part of my paper on the history of magic and its influence on humanity, this will be my more personal version of events. I plan to rewrite them in a less emotional way into my second journal - a more professional version, if you will. This one, I believe, will be an unadulterated recollection of my experiences as I begin my work.
In all honesty, I don’t believe I’ll be able to remove much of my excitement even in the revised copy of this - I finally got funding for my expedition! After all these years - well, four years, but still - I finally managed to convince the board this is a worthwhile endeavour! I simply can’t understand why anyone would think researching the origins of magic is a ‘fool's errand’ - even if I’m just researching some of the older ruins to find out what previous civilisations believed of magic, it could lead to some amazing breakthroughs in both anthropology and magiaology!
My current point of interest is the Dhi Qar Governorate in Iraq, close to the Eridu archaeological site. It’s a short while away by car, but would have been a good walk back then. A strange site that, to this day, holds some legends of strange apparitions and the like. There are also some interesting inconsistencies I want to look over. From what I’ve read on previous expeditions to this site, there are some strange stone tablets that cannot be moved from a certain point.
I primarily want to try and date my unknown site - right now it’s unclear if the site is sumerian in nature, or Akkadian. There are multiple mentions of the cuneiform for “Kišar” being found referring to a being within the site, however the goddess Kishar is, as far as we know, primarily Akkadian in nature, having only been mentioned once in the Enūma Eliš as the mother of Anu. There has been some debate on whether this is an error in the previous translations or if this was the site of a very private Kishar and Anshar based cult. However it doesn’t appear to be, from what records we do have.
The most interesting thing is a story of a man whose name appears to have been translated as “Alam” - we aren’t sure if it’s mean to call him “The sign”, as the sumerian word Alam does mean sign, and he appears to have been a beacon of wisdom and guidance, or if he was named Elam, perhaps after the Elam civilisation that may have been around during the time Eridu was populated. I’ll be referring to him as Alam until I can transcribe the cuneiform myself.
The story is as follows - there was a man from a village that would later be part of Eridu. He brought prosperity and wealth to his village, and was declared a gift from Enki for his abilities. Eventually, he decided to set off on his own, and created a massive structure that only those who followed him could enter. He would often return with strange, and wonderful creations that kept the village happy. After a time, when he was returning to purchase food or items, he brought with him a faceless child with skin like the night sky - possibly an aspect of the goddess Kishar. Part of the story is missing, but eventually he, and his entire building, suddenly disappeared without a trace. But sometimes a tall structure could be seen above the village, looming, as if watching them.
There seems to be at least some accuracy to the story, because the area appears to have remnants of tools and other items that shouldn’t exist for several thousand years… I’ll have to look into this more.
I suspect the description of the child - I’m not sure if calling them Kishar would be accurate here - may be an early description of a non-human species interacting with humans. This is far earlier than the other recorded interactions we have access to - at least two thousand years prior to what was thought to be the first human - nonhuman relationships! This could be a breakthrough in discovering the origins of magic in humans! I don’t know of any species described as being faceless though…
Ah, I should finish packing! Don’t want to leave anything behind, after all! I’ll write more on the plane.
