December 20, 2010

Changes

Things sometimes happen and as time wears on, you begin to realize the mistakes you’ve made have changed you in ways you never expected (nor could anyone else predict them). I found myself dawning on this as I sat in the shadows in the rain waiting patiently for my next target. I had learned poisons. I had learned the dual blade. I had replaced my chainmail with leather and I had discovered how beautiful the pink mist of blood spurting out from a body can really be. I’m not always like this. Far from it, actually. I realized that following the path of the hero just wasn’t going to work out for me. I’m just not cut out for things like that.

I’m a Rogue. Shit, I’m a fucking Worgen. Okay, okay. I got ahead of myself there. While I was with Berian, I thought it would be a good gesture on my part to become like him. No one thought I would make it through the bite or the curse. I made it through. A Massey doesn’t die — we multiply. My twin brother Michael didn’t think it was a good idea, but it really isn’t any of his business. Well, not anymore — Shit, I’m getting ahead of myself again. So much has happened and I’m not exactly sure how to write it all down without going overboard with it all.

I do the dirty jobs. I made a pact with the Iron Cross Company. I’m sure Vasain thinks I’m just another pain-in-the-ass under Thoranis’ thumb, but he doesn’t make mention of it much. I fight. I think he appreciates that much if nothing else. I’m allowed in their company and their hideout without anyone demanding I leave. I know Depsey (who I call Epic Dave), Andarian (who is Darian), Balthisarr (Balt), Darnimas (Steve — who tried to take off my head a few weeks ago before Thoranis called for an armistice)…

Its been fun. This is the life that is meant for me.

I worked with Grane Smith again. He was my partner in crime. We were like brother and sister. We worked well together until he decided getting laid meant more than our partnership. I had to cut him off like a bad leg. I didn’t want to, but it was necessary to preserve the rest of my team. Yeah, I got a team. I got a small group of people I can call upon to get kill-jobs done. I get paid well to do what I do. People know I’m good for it. People who don’t know learn pretty fucking fast. I don’t take anyone else’s shit and I know how to properly execute a job without making too much of a scene — unless I want them to know I did it.

I ain’t scared. That’s the first rule.

My team consists of myself as the lead, Arythi, Eldaral (Ary’s wife), Kazama, Andenton (another Mage who wants to get away from the whole “prissy” scene) and one or two others that I cache from when I need an extra body or hand. I have connections and they are good. If a connection dies out, I have no problem destroying it entirely. Too bad Grane doesn’t realize that.

I saw Dreydan the other day. He was at the bar. Never thought I’d see him at the bar, but times must be hard for him. Taiturga came to Goldshire a day back. Watched me kick some random Worgen’s ass. I’m not like the others. I got myself in check. I make sure that I don’t go flying off the handle on people. I keep a cool demeanor. That’s the way it is.

I’d write more, but this is all I can think about.

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November 9, 2010

Adam’s Song

I stood over his tombstone for what seemed like hours. Today he would have been twenty-eight. Just like me. He laughed the loudest of us all. While those of us who were involved know that it wasn’t anyone’s fault in particular, we know that there was so much we could have done to prevent it. Fresh flowers sit in the small mortar vase beside the headstone. I know that Michael or Christopher has been here before me. Its early morning and I can hear the mockingbirds in the trees warbling like sparrows. Its chilly outside and the frost on the grass that grew so pleasantly over his mound seemed frozen in time.

I miss Adam. If there ever was a guy worth missing, Adam would have been it.

I set my blade down in the grass and crossed my legs together as I read the words on his headstone over and over. It was like reading a book: no matter how much you could memorize the words, they seemed hollow, distant and surreal. Closing my eyes a bit, I had to clear my throat to find words — something that I hardly ever do. I suppose I should’ve started out saying something long, poetic and worthy to his effigy, but all I could say was ‘hi.’

I told him I worked for Worgen, known Worgen, and I was going to help them find their freedom in this world. I was met with eerie silence, but what can you expect from the dead? Admittedly, when I had heard about the Lich King bringing back Death Knights… Part of me had willingly wanted Arthas to rise Adam from the grave. I wanted him back, even if it meant in the most cruel, selfish way. Looking at his plot now, I realize how stupid a thought like that is and how I wouldn’t even wish that on my worst enemy, so why bother wishing it on a friend? A brother?

I suppose I’m sort of on this “I don’t care” kick since Pop’s death. He slipped away in the night as calmly and as peacefully as one could possibly go. One couldn’t ask for a better way for their loved ones to be taken back: warm in their bed, having lived a full life and without pain or agony to greet them. In my own life, I’ve managed to see death and come back from it. I suppose for me, Death is playing a game to see how far I can be pushed before I break down and beg for the sweet release. The Golden Wolf is at war with the Iron Crosses. They got one of ours, we got one of theirs, they tried to ambush Linsten. I protected him. I made the Druid drag him away.

I got hurt for it and nearly died twice in the night from the poison and blood loss. In my dreams I see a black crow. It beckons to me, but I’m so frozen and so filled with inner fear that I cannot move to it. I don’t fear death. Having been around it for so long, I’m calloused to what potential it could hold. Whether we all be cast into the Light or pushed into eternal damnation or if there only a limbo where there is nothing — I don’t fear it. I certainly don’t run from it.

Adam is where  this started. His own death was where the thick scab began to grow over my heart.

A spider crawled across my hand and stopped on the top of my hand to get warm. I watched it for the longest time. It was a poisonous spider. The bright red marking on its black body told me what I needed to know. It didn’t bite me. It didn’t even bother to do much other than skitter off to find more suited prey.

You have a guardian angel, Melanie.

That’s what they tell me. If Adam is my angel, what is he trying to tell me? Why does he insist on taking me to the brink of death and then bringing me back?

Hello there; the angel from my nightmare.

November 7, 2010

Once Again, With Feeling This Time

I didn’t leave the Sacred Candle because I thought I didn’t fit in. I know I didn’t and with blessing, I was allowed to go. I am a soldier and I am better at killing things than telling them they should repent. I’ve never repent. I’ve regretted, but never actually repent for the things I regret doing.

I was stopped by a man in a brown hat. I didn’t like his brown hat, but I liked the cut of his jib. He had been fighting up in Silverpine, which is where I am intended to be. I had only seen one battle there and I was sent home because they thought I couldn’t fight anymore. Perhaps it is the will of things that I was sent back because the man with the brow hat inducted me into the Golden Wolf. Not really my cup of tea, but I was going to freedom fight for the Worgen once more. Perhaps this is my calling. I am a frontline soldier after all.

Thoranis, the leader, had to have his butt saved twice tonight. We rode to Fenris Isle and took back our leader. For that, I was promoted. I’m not sure when “not dying” constituted as a promotion, but if that is how things are, I’ll be an officer in no time.

November 2, 2010

Toy Soldier

I blew my composure.

I nearly got myself killed. I’m supposed to be setting an example to others and here I was running head-first into the fray. I found myself in Silverpine wanting to prove something to someone. What left do I have to prove? Who do I need to prove it to? Berian? Dreydan? My father? Myself? I came too close. Too close even for my own comfort.

I had warpaint on. I was prepared for a full-blown war. I had only expected worgen. I hadn’t expected Forsaken and Cultists. I hadn’t looked that far ahead. I hadn’t…

I left Dreydan alone and the information I left for the Candles kept his ass safe. That’s all I could ask for. I’m needed on two fronts.

I charged in and nearly got myself killed. I have the wounds across my neck and arms to prove it. Claw marks. They are my scars now. Wounds to remind me that I can’t charge in like that. I can’t go head-first. I will not be afraid, though. I will not let what happened consume me into darkness and bad decisions. I am needed as a soldier.

Berian doesn’t want any harm to come to me. I know this. I respect it. I am a solider, though. I am a warrior and it is my duty to fight where and when I am able to. These are merely scratches. Lessons.

My blade is my faith. My shield is my convictions. My strength. No one died.

No one was hurt badly but me. I can live with that. I’m not suicidal, but I would rather have myself bleed all over the battlefield than those around me. That might make me a bad person, but its worth it.

The loss of blood and whatever the doc gave me is making me delirious… I best sleep…

October 30, 2010

Silence is Colder than Ice

Dreydan wrote to me from his location. It isn’t entirely where I expected him to be, but, its better than nothing. Duskwood will not be safe enough for them much longer. I hear talk that the Poor Knight — or should I say: Scarlet Rejects — are moving out, but, I still can’t trust that a group or two will linger and cause problems. That’s all Scarlets do is cause problems. Part of me wants to ask Dreydan if he managed to get himself and Tesah caught up in those shenanigans but I’m not going to press my luck in that direction until I’m left with no other option.

He asked me what news there was.

Other than the enormous bounty on his watermelon-shaped head, there is no sound. No nothing. No movement from these people. Overhearing a few conversations on the wind, they call themselves the Hand of Chaos. I think the only chaotic thing they’ve managed to do so far is make a poor idiot and his girlfriend twitch like they had a mental deficiency. (A bigger one than the obvious.)

I haven’t a name as to who the leader is or where to find them. I don’t hear anything from anyone else. There is no fear. No one is afraid of these people. They have no foundation, no background — nothing that would substantiate the fear they instilled in Tesah. This only leads me to believe she is a fucking moron.

Silence in the city. That is both a relief and a slight scare. I can understand those who take silence to be a miracle. I know others who take silence and turn it into an overbearing paranoia. Neither one of those things helps anyone and they certainly don’t produce results. I will ask Dreydan for a name, provided Tesah can give me something other than some stupid nickname or “gang name.” I need a real name. From there, I will go into the Stormwind Archives and dig out personal files and such — whatever may still be on record.

Even if they had always been a bad person, there would still be a record of their doings. I need a motive. I need an M.O.

I need to write to Berian and explain my disappearance from him. This isn’t good. I’m expected in Silverpine to be at his side and instead… I’m here in Stormwind City babysitting two people who can’t do anything but stupid shit. Light help me and grant me serenity in this job. I need it.

October 28, 2010

The City, She Speaks to Me

I’ve spent the last few days in Stormwind City. I’ve never seen a bigger cesspool of villains and scumballs. Even the people who claim to be humanitarian and peaceful are snide, snarky and hiding a dark side. Its easy to say one thing and not have the integrity to go through it. Whatever will happen now, will happen regardless of whatever group tries to take a stand. People will naturally want to continue the vices they’ve been partaking in and won’t want an authority figure to tell them not to do it.

If these people had any ounce of internal pride for this city, they’d stand up much taller and stop hiding in the Cathedral District or on a boat in the fucking harbor. Get out there. Do something. Stand up and speak out. I would do it myself but I’m too busy and I need to be hidden for the time being. I haven’t put on my tabard in a long while and I asked Evanyell not to mention me in her rosters. I know that’s probably against some law I’m unaware of, but, I need to find out information.

I found out Drakoonus is searching for Dreydan too. I’m not sure why but I know that Drakoonus’ decision-making skills are poor at best. I can’t trust him and I wish I could. I know he’s good at what he does, but I can’t trust anyone at the moment.

The only one who knows where Dreydan is, is me. I want it that way. I can’t trust anyone else with information like that until I know what is going on. I feel as though he’s hiding something from me. The bounty on his head is high — dead or alive. He mentioned he was targeted and Tesah was forced into submission by them. Clearly it wasn’t Tesah they wanted. They wanted Dreydan. Why?

If he was so innocent, why would this group offer such a large amount just for information on him? It makes no sense. He’s no one of consequence from what I know of him. He’s a twenty-year-old kid with no sense about him and the brains of a bird. We were all like that at one point but I know Dreydan Ruin isn’t a catalyst to anything. He must have pissed someone off. He must have done something stupid — and that doesn’t really surprise me.

I haven’t heard from Berian in two days. I suppose that’s slightly my fault since I haven’t written him either. I should do that soon.

Happy birthday to me, I’m twenty-eight today.

October 26, 2010

I’m Not Afraid

I’ve always been on my own. There hasn’t been much conflict in me about that. Since the change, and even slightly before then, I’ve found comfort in knowing that I don’t really need to be around people to find happiness. I’m no social butterfly and I certainly can’t work well when my colleagues are too busy trying to be the hero. I left the Reserves because I’m not afraid to take a stand. I knew things were going to go down a long, dark road and although I’ve weathered much worse, I came to the realization that I can’t keep living a lie. The lie wasn’t that I’m a soldier — I will always be a warrior and I will always hold my ground and one of the toughest women I know. The lie was that I could stand around and do nothing all day. As much as I want to protect people, I know that its everyone’s responsibility to care for everyone. There are other ways I can protect the city and people. There are other ways I can make my family proud of me.

After Pop’s death, I took a good look at myself in the mirror and realized that I was letting my head get spun around and forcing myself to make other people happy without really thinking about my own happiness. I want to be what I set out to be. I’m good at what I do; one of the last women out there who will tackle things that are traditionally considered “man’s work,” not because I used to be a man but because I believe that regardless of what gender I am — I am capable and it is my responsibility to do it. With talents comes a great responsibility to use them for the benefit of everyone, not just one or two people. I kissed Mama after the funeral and told her I needed to fly. I may have broken wings, but I can’t mend them if I stay stationary and keep doing the same things I have been doing since day one.

I left Redridge with what little I saved up. I went to Duskwood. I suppose part of me was still clinging to Berian. Not to mention the housing there is much cheaper than it is in the crowded city. I bought a little house up in the mountains. I hear the howl of wolves and I’m surrounded by darkness, but I won’t let it get to me — physically or spiritually. I bought the house with every cent I had. I slept on dirty floors for a long while and bathed in the creek on the side of the house. It doesn’t make me stronger, but it certainly opened my eyes to how having very little and relying on just yourself can be hard. I knew if I kept this up, I’d eventually starve myself to death in that little cold shack. I took up some odd jobs around the different areas and managed to buy myself some wood and some food. I built myself a small training station on the side of the house and between jobs or before bed, I would train myself until my knuckles bled. I wasn’t sure if it was out of self-depreciation or a desire to prove to myself that I was beyond whatever maelstrom was churning in my own soul.

Eventually I ran into Evanyell, and she had a turbulent story to tell. Despite everything, she was keeping her chin held high. I needed work. I’m not a religious woman — never have been — but I needed work and she was willing to offer me a job and plenty of materials to survive on. I took the job and donned the colors of the Sacred Candle. I’m not fighting for the Light. I’m fighting for what I know is right.

While I was in Elwynn picking up some supplies, I ran into Dreydan Ruin. I remember being infatuated with him, but looking at him, I know that it wasn’t right for either one of us. Letting him go was the best thing that I could have done for either one of us. He came to me as a friend and asked for my help. His new love, Tesah, had been held at knife-point and forced into servitude for some group called the H.O.C. I remarked on the stupidity of it all. How does one get kidnapped in broad daylight? I suppose my rant would be better clarified if it was “knowledge” that Tesah is a “masterful tactician.” I laughed at Dreydan. Once again, he is young and naive. He’s thinking romantically and not logically.

I had to help him because he is a friend and it is the right thing to do.

I told him to take himself and Tesah and hide in my house in Darkshire. Its temporary but, it’s all I could think of. I’m not tactician, I just know what I know and I know how to take care of the problem. Dreydan wanted Tesah to stay with the H.O.C and find out information. If I know people like I know them, Tesah will end up dead because she was stupid enough not to fight back when they took her. I would rather be dead than be a slave to some faceless cult. Why don’t women people fight back anymore? What is the desire about being a damsel in distress?

They threatened to kill Dreydan if Tesah didn’t help them.

Dreydan asked me what I would do. My response was simple: kick a lot of ass. If someone is stupid enough to threaten the Massey Clan, I guarantee you they wouldn’t like the result. We’re Masseys. We’re not afraid. I wouldn’t let anyone threaten my loved ones. I might end up going to the infirmary with injuries, but I would make sure theirs would go to the morgue. I didn’t train as a soldier and as a warrior just to let myself get dragged off into the darkness and then be bullied around. I will stand up. I will stand tall. I will walk tall. I have no respect for people who don’t do the same. We may not all be heroes, but we all have heroic moments. She missed hers and now Dreydan is coming to me and looking for me to hold up his world.

I’ll do it. Not because I should but because someone has to and I’m not afraid to take the burden on my shoulders.

They’re safe. That’s all that matters to me.

I went into the city to find out some information and ended up back in the Pig and Whistle. I remembered going there for a glass of whiskey a night, but now, I don’t drink anymore. I don’t touch liquor. I won’t. I’ve cleaned myself up. I went there for some moonberry juice and as I was there, I thought back to the last time I was there. It was with Berian Wolf-Tar. My heart had been crushed. I saw him snuggled up to some Night Elf Druidess and a kid. Why you’d bring a kid into a bar is beyond me. My family is pretty laidback, but I never recall seeing an infant in a tavern unless it was briefly. They were being a “family” in a bar in the middle of a fucking bar fight. I watched Berian act all happy and pleased with himself as if our love and our relationship didn’t mean anything now that he had his elf and his kid. I broke a glass in my hand that night.

I remember picking glass out of my palm for a good three days.

As I was in the bar, I saw Berian again. His hair was grayed. He looked the same, but, different. I suppose that makes no sense to anyone but me. Everything came full circle. I saw him and regardless of the butch Draenei woman he was with, I beat the hell out of him. I left my mark on his heart and on his face. I wanted him to know what turmoil I had been going through. I was trying to put my life back together and I couldn’t complete that task without taking care of Berian. It was the last loose end I had. The only one I had.

We kissed.

It was amazing.

Whatever weather, whatever the situation, I know deep in my heart I love Berian. He was the first one to accept me for who I am rather than what I am. He told me what happened and while part of me is still seething with jealousy, I know that Berian will be truthful with me and won’t judge me.

He’s leaving for Silverpine. I’m going with him. I’m going to fight beside him.

I can’t leave yet, though. I have things to take care of.

I have faces to bust in. 

I am a warrior and I’m not afraid.

October 16, 2010

Begin Again… Again… Again…

Each time I thought I’ve begun, I have to begin again. Is it so difficult to find something permanent these days? Maybe for me it is because I’m not exactly what you would call a “traditional woman.” I like being strong. I like being self-sufficient. I like being able to take on the world and survive it. I’ve had so many things happen and I still keep moving forward because that’s something Pops would have wanted.

…Pops passed away in his sleep a day or so back. The Massey Clan has had a dark cloud looming over us since it happened. Mama has been crying, but luckily she has Michael there. The funeral is in a couple of days as soon as Richard and I buy the plot for him. Pops never thought that he would need to be buried so soon, so he never got himself a plot.

I know Pops was proud of me, despite my falls. He was proud of all of us. I haven’t seen Andrew in close to a week, but, I’m sure he has better things to do with his time other than listen to my pouting.

I miss you, Pops.

October 8, 2010

The Man In My Life

Sometimes I can’t believe that things fall where they do. The more I think about him, the more I feel like a real woman. I’m no longer confined by my self-depriciating mental speak nor am I confined by fears that somehow my condition will deter him from wanting to know who I am. When he smiles at me, I melt a little in my shoes. He has these dimples in his cheeks when he smiles… and… Just looking at them makes me weak at the knees. Normally I’m a very strong girl (maybe a bit abnormally strong, but it comes from years of training) and I can usually focus myself pretty well when it comes to the opposite gender… But not him. No.

His voice is so soothing to me. When he looks up at me from the table, I feel like he’s approving my soul and when he sits close to me, I can feel his warmth. His heartbeat is like a beautiful symphony to me. I never feel like I have to be someone else around him and I certainly don’t feel like I have to try and impress him. I am comfortable to be myself.

I think this is true love.

October 4, 2010

Melanie’s Awkward Dream: “Be Our Guest”

Melanie woke up from her dream, rubbing her head. “Oh boy… I need to stop eating spicy foods before bed.”