This cursed place

Big

Dark

Broken

Insects      everywhere

I think

I’m in an e n d l e s s abyss

Where’s

The           moon?

A cobweb

In my face

I’m stuck

But I’m      falling

Deeper and deeper

W h o o s h

I’m lost

Someone

I s s o m e o n e o u t t h e r e ?

I shouldn’t have come.

I s h o u l d n ’ t h a v e c o m e 

To this        horrid        place

Abandoned

Not haunted

Just

B R O K E N .

So dark

And cold

The floors

Have h o l e s

I think

Someone    lives          here

C r u n c h

They’re coming

I see

A silver       sheen

Knife?

Help

I’m            running

So slow

A hand

Grabs mine

C r e a k

I               close my eyes

A comfortable blinding light

Soothes Mocks me

I breathe.

I hate it here.

"Tell me about yourself."

God, Koriol, don't do this to me-

"Please."

Well, he did ask. And I did tell myself I'd best answer if someone did, because that's the only chance I'll ever get to share this. What else would I do? Bottle it up? Never ends well - I should know. I do know. Doesn't make it any easier. This time we're sitting in a cafe. No idea why he invited me here. I had taken out my schoolwork to study, but he went and ordered some food. It sits before me now, so I've returned the papers to their respective folders - still in a disarray despite my efforts. It happens when I decide I couldn't care less. Probably means I didn't put enough effort into it, as always. Happy now?

Not at all.

"What do you want to know?"

"What you've been up to."

"I'm not telling you that."

"Not even your interests?" 

I look up from my food. What does he mean, interests? Doesn't he want to know about the more interesting stuff? All the sensational information that people vy to know if it kills them? Koriol's one such person who would choose to turn over every rock in the world if he could learn its cosmic secrets.

Yet here he is asking about the mundane. 

"M...Minecraft."

"That's cool. Have you seen the new snapshot yet?"

"I mean, I mostly play on a server with some... friends. Recently let a warden loose."

He laughs. "I'm guessing you nametagged it." Why does someone like him know about Minecraft? ...Granted, it is pretty popular, but I would've thought this guy focused on actual information that would be useful to him in the future. 

"Yeah, I named it after one of the people on that server." I have no idea how to continue this conversation. "How about you?"

"Hm?" He seems surprised. It's only fair that I get to ask if he did too. "Well, I've been learning to play the violin."

"Why would you choose the hardest instrument to play? Do you even have a musical background?"

"Nope."

"A...are you good at it?" I try to picture Koriol with an instrument in hand. It's not an impossible thought.

"I could be better." Probably means he's decent at it, because of course this perfect man would excel at- stop it, Zeph. Stop falling into the same habit.

"You always say that." It's admirable.

"I do." He grins. "You should watch me sometime."

"I'd rather commit arson." I have. "I'm sure there's something known as backseating with music too."

"I mean, I don't mind. You've played before, right?" Did I tell him that? I did. Sore moment, honestly. Typical Asian kid stuff. I nod. "Hazel's been cooped up in her room all day no matter how horrendously I play, and it's starting to get boring. Really need an audience for my tiny little violin." Is he referring to a song? I think he's referring to a song.

"You've moved recently, right?"

"Yeah. Can't imagine why though." He shrugs, but obviously he knows - there's that twinge of sadness in his face again. "Come visit sometime?"

"Fine, fine." I recently learned that game nights are fun. Who would've guessed. I wonder if Koriol has jackbox or something. He probably has cards. Hezalea would always look quite disturbed whenever he mentioned solitaire for some reason. Then he'd look at her apologetically. Yet another thing I wouldn't ever know, but I'm no different. Eye for an eye.

He looks happy now. "I've been decorating, it's pretty nice there if I do say so myself." I roll my eyes. It's not meant to be meanspirited. Please don't take it the wrong way. "Oh come on, I know I glaze myself all the time but I'm really proud of this one." Koriol speaks like he's just made a masterpiece. He is somewhat of an artist after all. He talks about a classmate of his sometimes - she really loves flowers. She's a bit strange, according to him. A bit shattered. A piecewise function that doesn't really fit together (I'm positive he added that metaphor in for me specifically). Recently she had handed in a really nice statue and flown off to the States for a month or something. Then she came back a little worse for wear. There's concern in Koriol's voice now. "All these people I know, disappearing and reappearing with their lives changed... it's a bit..." He places a hand over his chin as he thinks. He takes a while.

"Alien?"

"I wouldn't put it that way, but yeah." Koriol takes a sip of coffee. "Alien."

Oh, if only he knew. "I'm sure there's an explanation. Maybe."

"Probably, but I'm drawing blanks whenever I try to find out. Y'know how Trump died and then ended up not dying? He was on camera - I don't know how they did it."

Wince. Koriol looks directly at me, but he says nothing as he sips (loudly, now) at his nearly depleted drink. "Maybe necromancers are real?"

"I'll take your word on that."

"You'll regret it."

"When do I not?" He laughs again. This isn't a joke. I can tell. "Zeph, it's fine." He's a good liar. But not when he's trying to put a bandage over a rift. 

"Don't say that." 

"Seriously, I feel a lot better than before."

"Doesn't mean it's gone away."

"True, but-"

"You say things about me backing down too easily, but honestly? I'd rather do that than sound like a tornado wrapped in ribbons and bows." Koriol raises an eyebrow. "What I mean is, just stop trying to convince me that the elephant in the room has somehow vanished."

He adjusts himself and leans forward. He's listening. Finally.

"Koriol, why are we here?"

"To hang out."

"You don't know me. I don't know you. You know this - you're the one who told m-"

"I'm trying. ...To get to know you."

"But you're putting up a faze and it really isn't helping. I can't tell you anything if all you're going to do is reciprocate with lies."

"You'd hate me."

"Then let me hate you. Give me that option." The food has gotten cold. I take a bite out of it anyway. "Don't you start putting me on a pedestal too. Let me step forward and punch you if I have to."

"You don't understand." He averts his gaze.

"Look at me." He does. "I don't understand a lot of things. Doesn't make me any less deserving of the truth. I'm trying to understand. I want to know you too." Some light has returned to his eyes. They reflect the ceiling lamps. "And you can't just put all the blame on me for preventing us from talking about anything deeper than our hobbies."

"...That's true." Koriol looks down. He picks up his fork and fiddles around with it. "I just... I'm not ready yet." He looks back at me. "I'll tell you soon. I promise."

Promise?

I wonder how many more times I can take that.

"Oh. And..." I jolt. For a second I'm concerned that he's read my mind. Or maybe I mumbled it and he's heard it. He hasn't. I think he hasn't. He turns to his bag and takes out something wrapped neatly in ornate paper. There's an envelope taped on top. To Zephyren. "Here."

"...What?" In my shock I didn't notice that I've already taken it from his hands.

"Happy birthday."

How did I forget? ...Should I open it now? Traditionally we wouldn't (something about manners too) but we aren't in Hong Kong, neither do I really keep track of their practices. 

"I know you pointed out the flaws behind waiting for this one day, but it would feel awkward otherwise. For me, at least."

Of course.

"You can open it if you want." He can tell I'm curious. Damn you, Koriol.

"...Okay."

An instrument. A... harmonica. Engraved with my name and a fire glyph. How does he- right, he designed it. On the other side there's a phoenix embossed in gold. "...Thank you." It's beautiful. I can't accept this. How much did it cost? Hopefully not much. Please don't tell me.

"Fiddle-style violin is fun. Heard it goes well with this. I'm not forcing you to play anything, but since you know a bit about music it'd be cool if we could jam together sometime."

Can I really do that? It's been a while. I've done some gigs for cash but it's not something I dabble with on a daily basis. "I'd embarrass myself. I was joking about backseating." I put the harmonica back into its case. I wonder why he chose this. I've never played one before. Only a piano and a violin, maybe a bit of guitar. This is a woodwind. Wind. Flying. Imagine all the things I can do if I could fly. This one takes breathing. I don't know if I can breathe right nowadays.

"Backseating doesn't really suit you anyway." Wow, okay. "Either way, do what you want with it." He falters and picks up his cup, realizes it's empty, then eats some of his food. 

I don't say anything - with the way he looks at me and takes deep breaths and looks away at the last second, I can tell he has more to say. We eat in silence for a few minutes. Then he continues.

"If you don't want it you could sell-"

I stand up and clutch the case to my chest. "Why the fuck would I do that?" He's taken aback. Who does he think I am? People are staring now. My face is hot. Wonder how red it is. I sit down. "I'm not selling it, I'm not giving it away, I'm not tossing it either. You gave this to me."

Koriol smiles. His smile is warm.

In the middle of the night, I swear to god, Abdon, this motherfucker stands over me like he's never seen me before and goes "It wishes to speak with you." Like, what? Does this guy get out often? Talk to other people? I guess he left during game night... but still! 

Anyways by "IT" I assume he meant the fireplace, and by "Speak" I assume he meant give me a fuckin' poem.

So I wake up all groggily like, shove Abdon outta my face and tell 'em to go outside and talk to people like a normal person would instead of actin' all weird like this, and I head down to the living room... and just after I spent all day cleaning up that whole explosive beer incident... cant even get any sleep around here...

SO! I head down to the place and uh, whaddya know? The Fireplace is up and attem again. Lemme just transcribe its bullshit here for later.

I see a man, living without shame.

He is a man of wealth and power

He is a man of false fame.

Behind armor and artifacts he does cower

For you know his face and name.

His foolishness is his greatest sin

We cannot let him live any longer 

Or let his collection become any stronger

For you must snuff out the flame within.

So y'know, when the fuckin' fireplace says something like that, you kinda HAVE To know whats up there. I'm assumin' he means that Worgan guy... real weird fella, ain't a fan.

Anyways, seein' that there's this whole issue here, its probably a good idea to start getting into some funky stuff, eh? I think I got a couple plans on how I'd wanna take this guy down maybe, I dunno... I suppose I could talk to a couple of those folks I know, I'm bound to get to know a couple more 'ere soon too...

If only the other folks I knew could help me out in this... ah well, I guess I'm a fuckin' multiverse hopper now.

Somehow I won quite a few rounds of poker. The others insist I'm card-counting but I swear I haven't really touched cards until today. What is card-counting, anyway? I'll have to search that up when I get home. I won with blind confidence, I guess. That's pretty cool.

And then Goro pulled up Jackbox. God, I'm bad at talking. Guess that's another perk of not being a Crim student anymore - less presentations, more 'do things right, there is always a clear solution and an indicator that you've succeeded'.

These people are hilarious. We need to have more game nights, away from all the stress of these jobs. Feels like things would've started on a better note with everyone all the way back during my first Contract if we all just met up to hang out and play games beforehand.

Also, Jacob called me gay? How did he know that? I've never referred to Koriol in any specific way other than to talk about the conversations I've had with him. Either way, there goes any plans I had to come out because this dude decided to out me in the middle of near-strangers, especially in front of one who might be homophobic and racist. Come on, that's not very nice.

Also I think Jacob might be fruity, he kept dodging the questions

Ibzan's house is nice. It's a shame we kinda left a mess in there when Goro gave Jacob a can of beer. It was a beernade. I don't know how Jacob failed to realize that. Whatever, you deserved that. I thought you said you didn't drink. What happened to having a clear head? Not that it's that clear, with all those ghosts swirling around him. Once again, this guy's a chronic liar. Compulsive liar. Something along those lines. Whatever. Hope he's not surprised whenever I say I don't believe him. I've definitely got beef with this guy. Why did I invite him, then? Dunno. Thought it'd be funny for him to meet Remus. It was really funny.

Scream.

Home.

Dread.

Shush, Aria. I have to handle this one.

Then do it.

I am! I'm... trying. And that should be enough.

Luc... you know this. There's no fixing it. They'll keep forgiving you and holding all your little mistakes over your head until the individual water drops drive you insane. It's not just the little harmless droplets - it's the fact that you're tied down and isolated against your will, knowing that you live just to be able to see those you love. The droplets are a reminder that this is torture. They never end - each time they think you've done something wrong, a cup gets added - and they'll always think you're wrong regardless. If they really could be convinced otherwise, then they wouldn't have thought you were wrong in the first place. They claim to love you. This is an iron grip. They hover over your shoulder each second you spend in this house and you could never learn to be yourself until you get the sense to leave. Yet you get reined right back to square one because it's been so long that you don't know what to do if you don't stay. This is not what real lo-

Say all you want, Aria, but there's more to it than just lecturing me.

I tried. Why do you think I asked Stanley to take us to Lina's?

...

They've been worried sick. It's been a month and I came back with a messed up throat - anyone would be concerned. I knew that. I know that. That's why I'm trying my best to explain but they won't let me and they won't listen and they won't stop and they won't-

This isn't about my inability to speak - not at all. It's just that anything I try to say is framed as "talking back" and "making excuses" even though they were the ones asking me all these loaded questions that I could never answer! Just hire a PI, they'll tell you that they have no idea - you've always underestimated us so why stop now? Maybe there is no explanation and it's like every single conversation people have about art: "There'll never be a concrete answer."

They're trying to ground me. They're trying to keep me confined in my room not knowing the nature of this situation. They know it won't work, it never works it didn't even manage to chain our family down by the time we left Louisiana-

So here I am. Reflecting. Thinking. Staring at the wall for hours on end - I've always known that those blotches moved from place to place, ever so slightly, but no one would believe me - now, with so much time on my hands I can finally see the truth for myself. I've always known! I've always known and seen the truth yet they don't listen because they're always right, they can never be wrong, because to be wrong is to fail and they would never fail because they've broken the cycle and that makes them invincible and so much better but in the end they're no different from-

They enter without knocking. They see the scribbles on the wall. They look at me. Threaten to kick me out. Abandon me. Leave me to get picked off by the coyotes- no, no, no, no, no no no no no nonn on n onoo nono no onoNONONONONONONO

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry don't throw my things away I'm begging you I need that I need my IDs I know I do I'm not dumb I need these things you can't just leave me to die you can't you can't do this you worked so hard to get all of us out of there you can't possibly just throw it all away you said it was mine you said it was mine IT'S MINE IT'S ALL MINE YOU GAVE THIS TO ME YOU CAN'T JUST TAKE IT AWAY WHEN YOU DECIDE TO BECAUSE IT'S YOURS EVEN THOUGH I ASKED YOU AND YOU SAID IT WAS MINE AND I COULD DO WHATEVER I WANTED WITH MY THINGS BECAUSE IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS BUT NOW YOU'RE GOING BACK ON YOUR WORD BECAUSE IT'D HURT ME WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU I can't afford that on my own I'm only 19 we're just Luciole we can't we can't we can't but I want to I need to because if I don't then I can't help deal with the problems that I had a part in creating I can't just leave Lina with all of that she'll be outnumbered and everything I tried to do would've been for nothing she can't die I can't let her die I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't don't do this to me don't make me choose don't make me choose between my friends and my family it's not about disrespect it's about keeping her safe I'm sure you understand you were the ones who taught me this even after we left our Family why is it only true when it helps you please don't do this to your child I'll be better I promise I pinky promise because pinky promises are the biggest promises you could make what do you mean you can't find it within yourself to believe me please don't leave don't say these things what is this I won't leave I won't leave I won't leave what do you mean I'll have to leave at some point and you'll lock the doors I thought the secondary and tertiary and quaternary and quinary, senary, septenary, octonary, nonary, denary locks were to be safe from intruders I'm not an intruder I'm Luciole we're Luciole don't do this I can't at least let me keep all my documents I need those to keep going I don't know where to start you never let me do things on my own I never learned how do I start now I can't I can't I can't stop shaking I can't I can't I can't it hurts it hurts iT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS

You're home. You're home, you've always been home, the world is your home, it's just that you were in the wrong place at the wrong time for a little too long. We'll forgive you. Just come home. They are no better than us. At least we know your value. Come home, little Firefly.

Lina, I... I'm trying. I'll be there. I promise.

...I think.

...Hey, what's... what's this?

Luciole finds a pendant under her bed.

[New item found: Insignia of the Ichor Order.]

Yk it's kind of hard to get over the fact that they took my skin

They took my fucking sling dawg like what Ian I supposed to do about that

Anyway what's is I got the properoutry so that sgoos and stuff I guess

Any way bdjfin no skin no skin no skin

And my hair ig but like idrc about that

I guess it's weird to not be vain when I just developed the ability to change what I look like but whatever

Probably not gonna openly have no sking because that's bad I think so I'll just disguise myself as myself 

I'm leaving Powell River and living in my car because I have no standards ig

Idk it's easier to say I'm gonna do stuff with the land of I'm out there "surveying" and stuff

I'll probably keep the condo as like a safe house or smth but seeing as it's in my name I doubt it'll be that safe

You ever have a really shitty nap? Like your back hurts a ton, your hairs longer, you're now 7 feet tall, yada yada? Woke up today as a completely different guy, that was weird! Turns out that I can just rip off all my skin and snap my bones around at a moments notice, some advanced plastic surgery shit y'know? I've gotta craft up some new personas, disguises to switch between and whatnot. Robbing people is so much easier when they think it's Maroon Joe who stole their gold and NOT Goro Hamada.

For future me, consider the following names:

• Maroon Joe
• Douglas Edwards
• Douglas Dimedome
• Douglas Douglas Douglas
• Orog Adamah
• Lebron Junior Junior
• Markiplier
  
  

Thought about killing that one lawyer again. Sent him a threatening voicemail about repaying all those people he scammed, hope he does that. I wonder if he knows that even if he repays his debts, I'm still gonna burn his house down cuz I hate him. If you don't wanna be horrifically murdered, maybe don't suck? Like- I don't get how you can be THAT unbearable.

There's a little voice in the back of my head that tells me to tear people apart with my hands and teeth. Says to me, it says, "Goro, you need to kill that police officer NOW!! Imagine all the evil shit he does!". It's the same little voice that tells me to drink fish oil and climb trees. Could be losing it, could be Gorgoated, who's to tell? Killed my neighbor last week, caught him reading my mail so I said, I said, "YOU SUCK BRO!!!" and he died horribly. Lots of screaming, lots of fire, was really dramatic.

I kinda just stare at people and think about how much I want their life to fall apart, and it does! Spontaneous combustion is apparently really painful, so glad it hasn't happened to me yet! Maybe I should set that crypto guy on fire,,, he kinda sucks

Peace out #goronation, remember that it's never Gorover! Especially not when you have weird magic fire powers!