Lila Blackwood's Questionnaire

I reside in the outskirts of Topola, Serbia, a place steeped in the dark tapestry of my family's history, for it is here that Blackwood Manor stands, a haunting reminder of our once-grand legacy. Despite its ruinous state, I remain tethered to this land, drawn by the echoes of the past and the secrets that linger within its decaying walls. My home, though modest, serves as a strategic base for my endeavors, providing both proximity to urban resources and the seclusion necessary for my pursuits. It is here, amidst the whispers of the forest and the shadows of the manor, that I find solace and strength to confront the challenges that lie ahead.

At present, I rely on the remnants of my family's dwindling fortune to sustain my modest existence. This meager sum is stretched thin, primarily allocated towards basic necessities such as food, utilities, and the occasional upkeep of Blackwood Manor, my ancestral home, which serves as both sanctuary and symbol of my fallen legacy. Paying taxes and other property expenses is among the worst hurdles I face, as the costs of maintaining the manor, even in its current dilapidated state, are substantial and relentless. Every euro counts, and the constant financial strain is a grim reminder of how far I have fallen from the abundance of my childhood.

I also have to allocate funds for essential expenses related to my contracts, including travel, equipment, and acquiring knowledge to further my ambitions. These contracts, though dangerous, are a necessary means to bolster my income and inch closer to restoring my family's prestige. The funds are judiciously reserved and meticulously managed, ensuring that I can continue to pursue my goals without falling into complete destitution.

Despite the financial hardships, I am determined to reclaim what is rightfully mine and restore Blackwood Manor to its former glory. Each expense, each sacrifice, is a step towards this ultimate goal. Living with these constraints has taught me resilience and resourcefulness, qualities that will serve me well as I navigate the perilous path ahead.

My ambition is twofold: to master my psionic powers, ensuring I avoid the insanity and loss of control that claimed my father, and to restore the prestige and fortune of the Blackwood family. I am driven by a need to understand and command my abilities fully, to harness them without fear of succumbing to the madness that haunts my lineage. This mastery is not just for my sake, but to reclaim the honor and influence my family once held.

I strive to restore Blackwood Manor to its former glory, making it a beacon of our regained legacy. I envision it as a sanctuary for those with psionic abilities, a place where we can learn, grow, and protect ourselves from the dangers that come with our powers.

To achieve this, I am willing to go to great lengths. I would not hesitate to kill if it meant protecting myself or furthering my goals. The moral lines I once held have blurred, replaced by a relentless drive for control and restoration. I am prepared to face death, to walk the razor's edge between life and oblivion, if it means securing my future and that of my family's legacy. My journey is fraught with peril, but I am resolute. Failure is not an option, and I will not rest until I have reclaimed what is rightfully mine.

The most defining event of my life, before signing The Contract, was witnessing my father's descent into madness. Growing up, I idolized him; he was a brilliant telepath, a beacon of strength and intelligence. However, as his mental health began to deteriorate, I watched helplessly as the man I once admired transformed into a tormented shell of his former self. The powers he once wielded with such confidence and precision became a curse, driving him to insanity.

Accompanying him through this decline was an excruciating experience. Each day, I saw the toll it took on him and felt the weight of his suffering. My mother’s coldness and emotional distance only amplified the isolation and fear I felt. I struggled to understand what was happening and grappled with the realization that I had inherited his psionic abilities, along with the potential for the same fate.

This harrowing experience changed me profoundly. It instilled in me a deep-seated fear of losing control, of succumbing to the same madness that claimed my father. It also fueled my determination to master my powers, to ensure that I would never share his fate. The need for control, understanding, and strength became my driving forces. This defining event hardened me, shaping my resolve to reclaim my family's legacy and avoid the darkness that loomed over my father's life.

1. Milena "Mila" Petrov - The Closest Person

Milena Petrov, or Mila as she is affectionately known, was the head housekeeper at Blackwood Manor for many years. After my mother's death, Mila became a mother figure to me, providing the warmth and support I desperately needed. Her kindness and wisdom helped me navigate the tumultuous period following my father's confinement. Mila's loyalty and care have made her the person I am closest to, and she continues to offer guidance and support, even as I strive to restore our family's legacy. She still lives in a small cottage on the manor grounds, tending to what remains of the estate.

2. Elena Markovic - The Old Colleague

Elena Markovic was my companion and fellow student during my schooling years. We bonded over our mutual interest in archery, spending countless hours practicing and honing our skills together. Though our paths diverged after school, we maintained a friendly relationship. Elena pursued a career in competitive archery, while I delved deeper into my family's dark legacy. We still meet occasionally to catch up and shoot a few arrows, reminiscing about simpler times.

3. Viktor Draganov - The Old Flame

Viktor Draganov, or Vik, was an old flame from my late teens. We met during a summer retreat, and he quickly fell for me. Though I was fond of him, I knew that indulging in a relationship would distract me from my ambitions and the heavy responsibilities I bore. Despite this, Vik and I remain good friends. He respects my choices and has always been supportive, offering a listening ear and a comforting presence when I need it. Vik pursued a career in architecture and often helps me brainstorm ideas for restoring Blackwood Manor. These three people have significantly impacted my life in different ways, each providing support and connection in a world where I often feel isolated. Their presence in my life helps keep me grounded as I navigate the challenges ahead.

My childhood was a blend of solitude and luxury. I grew up in Blackwood Manor, surrounded by opulence that had long since faded into a ghostly echo of its former self. My parents were enigmatic figures in my life. My father, Elias Vaughn, was a brilliant telepath whose abilities ultimately drove him to madness. He was once a man of great intellect and strength, but as his mental state deteriorated, he became a tormented shell of his former self. My mother, Seraphina Blackwood, was a cold and emotionally distant woman. She managed the household with an iron fist but offered little warmth or affection.

Despite the isolation, my parents ensured I had the best education. I attended a prestigious private school, but fitting in was always a challenge. The other children sensed something different about me, something unsettling. My empathic abilities, though not fully developed, created an invisible barrier between me and my peers. I found solace in books and the vast library at Blackwood Manor, immersing myself in knowledge and the hidden histories of my family.

One bright spot in my otherwise lonely childhood was Mila, Milena Petrov, the head housekeeper at Blackwood Manor. Mila was more of a mother to me than Seraphina ever was. She provided the warmth and affection that I so desperately needed, helping me navigate the complexities of my family and my emerging abilities. Her kindness and wisdom were a guiding light, making the cold, vast halls of the manor feel a little less empty.

School was a place of contradictions for me. While I excelled academically, I was always the outsider socially. The isolation at home mirrored my experiences at school, reinforcing my sense of being apart from the world around me. My father's descent into madness, my mother's emotional unavailability, and the comforting presence of Mila shaped much of my childhood. It was a lonely existence, but it shaped me into the resilient and determined person I am today.

Yes, I have been in love, once. His name was Viktor Draganov, an old flame from my late teens. We met during a summer retreat, and there was an immediate connection between us. Vik was different from anyone I had ever known—kind, supportive, and understanding of the complexities of my life. He quickly fell for me, and I found myself drawn to his warmth and genuine nature.

However, the timing was never right. I was consumed by the responsibilities and burdens of my family's legacy, and my ambitions left little room for anything else. Despite the strong feelings we had for each other, I knew that indulging in a relationship would distract me from the path I needed to follow. My journey to master my psionic abilities, uncover the secrets of my family's past, and restore the Blackwood name required my full attention.

Vik understood my reasons, even if it caused him pain. We decided to remain friends, and he has always respected my choices. There are times when I lament the lack of time we had together and wonder what might have been if circumstances were different. If my life were less complicated, perhaps we could have explored our connection further.

Despite this, Vik and I have maintained a good friendship. He pursued a career in architecture and has often offered his support and ideas for restoring Blackwood Manor. Our bond, though not romantic, is a source of comfort and strength for me. In another life, under different conditions, perhaps we could have had something more. But for now, my ambitions and the legacy I carry must come first.

My worst fears are multifaceted and deeply rooted in the shadows of my family's history. Above all, I fear becoming a mirror of my parents' most tragic flaws. I dread the possibility of becoming simultaneously arrogant and inept, cold-hearted yet broken-hearted like my mother. Her emotional unavailability and rigid demeanor left a void in my childhood that I never wish to inflict on anyone else. The idea of shutting out the world, becoming a brittle shell of authority without compassion, terrifies me.

Equally, I fear becoming loving but abusive and insane like my father. His descent into madness was fueled by a deep love that twisted into something uncontrollable and destructive. The thought of losing myself to the same fate, of my affection turning into a weapon that harms those I care about, is a constant source of anxiety.

Yet, above all, my greatest fear is failing to stop the destruction of everything I know and hold dear—my family's legacy, our land, and the people who depend on the Blackwood name. The weight of this responsibility is immense. The thought of Blackwood Manor falling further into ruin, of our land being taken away, and the loyal staff and families who rely on us losing their livelihoods and traditions, keeps me awake at night. I fear that all my efforts will be in vain, that despite my best intentions and hardest work, I will not be able to preserve and restore what has been entrusted to me.

These fears drive me, shaping my every action and decision. They are the ghosts that haunt me, pushing me to strive for mastery over my abilities and to rebuild my family's name with unwavering determination.

My most prized possessions are imbued with deep personal significance, each a tangible connection to my past and the people who have shaped me.

First is a silver locket with a lock of my father's hair, given to me on my tenth birthday. This locket symbolizes the bond I shared with him before his descent into madness. The lock of hair inside is a poignant reminder of the man he once was, a man of brilliance and strength, before his abilities and the burdens of our legacy overwhelmed him.

Next is an ivory and mother-of-pearl hand mirror, a gift from my mother when I turned thirteen. This mirror, while beautiful, represents a complex and conflicted relationship. My mother, Seraphina, was distant and emotionally cold, but this gift was a rare moment of connection, a glimpse of the care she could never fully express. The mirror's delicate craftsmanship mirrors the fragility of our bond.

However, the most treasured of all is an empty walnut husk with my initials carved into it, a gift from Mila, the head housekeeper, and the true mother figure in my life. She gave it to me when my father was taken to the psychiatric hospital. This simple walnut husk is a symbol of resilience and love, a reminder of the strength and support Mila provided during the darkest times. The initials carved with a pocket knife make it uniquely mine, a personal token of the care and wisdom she imparted. It is a tangible reminder of her unwavering presence and the warmth she brought to my otherwise isolated childhood.

These possessions are more than mere objects; they are lifelines to the memories and emotions that define me. They anchor me to my past while motivating me to shape a future worthy of the legacy I strive to restore.

What isn't a problem right now? I'm drowning in debt, barely able to sustain the estate's expenses, and living in a dump to make budget space for Blackwood Manor. The constant financial strain is a relentless burden, and every day feels like a race against time to keep the roof over my head and the manor from falling apart completely. The demands of the contracts are steep and often deadly, leaving little time for the study and training I desperately need. Each mission pushes me to the brink, requiring knowledge and skills that I am constantly struggling to master. The pressure to perform perfectly is immense, and the consequences of failure are unforgiving.

Then there's the loneliness. Despite the few close connections I maintain, the isolation is palpable. The mind is a dangerous companion, constantly pressing for a slip or a moment of carelessness. The fear of becoming like my parents—cold-hearted and broken, or loving but insane—looms over me, making every decision feel fraught with peril. I don't like to be a pessimist, but while there is still a lot to lose, a few wins would be most welcome right now. The weight of my responsibilities, the financial ruin, the constant danger, and the ever-present threat of losing control are crushing. Yet, despite all this, I cling to the hope that with perseverance, I can turn the tide and reclaim the legacy that has been left in my care.

My mornings are meticulously structured, a necessity given the chaos that often surrounds my life. I rise at 5 a.m., determined to greet the day with discipline and rigor. The first order of business is a full-body workout followed by a 10-kilometer run. This physical exertion is essential, not just for maintaining my fitness, but for the mental clarity it provides.

After my run, I dedicate an hour to practicing swordplay and archery. These skills are both practical and meditative, grounding me in precision and control. The swish of the rapier and the twang of the bowstring are familiar comforts, sharpening my focus for the challenges ahead.

Once my training is complete, I take a shower and transform myself for the day. My appearance has always been important, but since manifesting the porcelain, marble-like aspect granted by my inhuman physiology, it has become even more so. I carefully select makeup and clothing that highlight my beauty while masking the unnatural allure of my current appearance. Every detail is considered, from the subtle glow of my skin to the luminescence in my eyes, all crafted to maintain a semblance of normalcy and to wield my appearance as an asset.

The rest of my morning is consumed by a flurry of studies and the constant back and forth of calls and visits to creditors. Attempting to make repairs and secure financing for Blackwood Manor is a never-ending battle, often met with derision and smirks. But I take note of those who help me and those who mock me; I will remember them and repay both in kind.

Evenings are dedicated to honing my telekinesis and immersing myself in reading. In the past, I loved going out with friends, but lately, I lack the money and the energy to maintain a social life. My focus remains on my goals, knowing that sacrifices must be made to restore my family's legacy and to master the powers that define me.

If I were going somewhere special and wanted to look my best, I'd start with a long, luxurious bath to relax and rejuvenate. I'd then meticulously care for my porcelain-like skin, enhancing its natural glow with high-quality products. Styling my hair in elegant waves or a sophisticated updo would be next, followed by applying subtle, glamorous makeup—smoky eyes, winged eyeliner, and a classic red or berry lipstick.

Choosing an outfit would be the highlight: a sleek, tailored gown or a chic cocktail dress in a deep, rich color like emerald green or midnight blue. Accessories would be minimal but striking, with statement earrings and a delicate bracelet. Stylish heels and a matching clutch would complete the ensemble. This entire process, taking several hours, would remind me of my grace and elegance, feelings of confidence and poise surfacing as I transform. Despite the challenges I face, preparing for such an occasion is a cherished ritual that reaffirms my identity and sophistication, even though I do feel somewhat naked without the blades and the bow.

It's been some time since I've truly celebrated anything with fervor. For my next birthday, I'll probably just go to Mila's house and help her prepare a special dinner. We'll invite a few friends who still remember me fondly. I can't help but feel a bit resigned and slightly sad about it. Most people think my dream of restoring my family's legacy is foolish, and they believe I should move on. This quiet judgment has left me secretly resentful.

Mila is different. She genuinely believes in me and my vision to one day restore Blackwood Manor. If that dream ever comes to pass, perhaps I'll throw grand balls and parties like in the past. But, no matter how grand the celebrations become, I know I'll always spend my birthdays with Mila and that small circle of friends who had faith in me when no one else did. It's a small, intimate gathering that I hold dear, a reminder of the unwavering support that keeps me going.

My greatest regret? There are many. Not exploring my relationship with Vic further, not spending more time with Mila, never having the opportunity to say goodbye to my father, not attempting harder to have a relationship with my mother, taking too long to take action to restore the family... sometimes it seems all I have are regrets. If I could afford self-pity, I’d probably find many reasons to wallow in it. Fortunately, I can't.

Each of these regrets weighs heavily on me. Vic was someone who saw beyond the facade, someone who could have been more in my life if only I had allowed it. Mila, the true mother figure, deserved more of my time and appreciation. My father's descent into madness left no room for farewells, a closure that I still crave. My mother, distant and cold, was a barrier I never fully tried to breach. The years I spent hesitating to take action to restore my family's legacy haunt me, a constant reminder of time wasted.

Yet, these regrets also fuel my resolve. They remind me of what is at stake and push me to strive harder, to ensure that the future is not plagued by the same mistakes. I have no time for self-pity. Every moment is an opportunity to make things right, to honor those I’ve lost and the legacy I’m determined to reclaim.

The nature of my gifts is something I've pondered often, yet I am not entirely sure. They seem to react to what I am practicing and imagining, an empowerment of insight, if you will. The harbingers offer a mote of potential, a spark, but it is up to me to carve it, mold it, and make it my own. It's not as simple as granting wishes—it's a symbiotic relationship where their initial empowerment must be honed through my effort and discipline.

My statuesque appearance, a blend of ethereal beauty and latent power, seems to perfectly reflect this nature, if one allows for a bit of poetic license. The transformation of my physical form and the honing of my telekinetic abilities are testament to the idea that while the potential is granted, the true mastery comes from within me. Each gift is a mirror of my dedication and imagination, a tangible result of my relentless pursuit of excellence.

In essence, my gifts are both a reflection and a result of my inner drive. They are not simply bestowed upon me in full form but are shaped by my hands and mind, evolving as I do. This process of continual refinement and growth is what makes them truly mine.

I'm not particularly religious, but my experiences as a contractor have made me more open to the idea. I've witnessed miracles with my own eyes, which complicates things. Miracles, by their nature, should inspire faith, but once you witness one, it no longer requires belief—it becomes a fact, almost a mockery of faith.

Overall, I don't feel atheistic skepticism, but rather a methodological and ethical exhaustion with the question. It is a tiring debate that produces little and leads nowhere. My beloved country has nearly been destroyed while pondering these questions, not once but twice. The endless discussions on faith and spirituality seem to yield more division than enlightenment.

There is a lot of beauty in the world, and I wish I could believe there is a grand sense to it all. However, I find it improbable, if not impossible. The notion of a higher power or a grand design feels out of reach, not because of disbelief, but because of the sheer exhaustion of seeking answers that may never come.

In the end, my focus remains on what I can see, touch, and influence. I find meaning in my actions and the legacy I am determined to restore. Whether or not there is a higher purpose, I strive to create my own sense of order and beauty in the world around me.

The events of the contracts often conflict with my worldview, challenging everything I thought was true. Growing up, I believed in the principles of noblesse oblige—the idea that those with power and privilege have a duty to help those less fortunate. My father instilled these values in me, and I cling to them even as I navigate this strange and perilous world.

My father's descent into madness and his eventual confinement still haunts me. I often wonder if, like me, he could have found salvation in the contracts. Could the extraordinary experiences and the powers granted by the harbingers have given him a sense of purpose, a way to control his abilities instead of being consumed by them? It's a thought that both comforts and saddens me. Perhaps in another life, he might have been able to find the redemption and strength that I seek now.

However, the very nature of the contracts and the powers bestowed by the harbingers often stand in stark contrast to the concept of noblesse oblige. These phenomenal powers are available to those with enough drive and ambition, regardless of their moral compass. This creates a world where might often makes right, and the principles of helping others can easily be overshadowed by personal gain and survival.

In this context, the obligation of nobility to assist those less fortunate feels both essential and futile. On one hand, the powers I wield could be used to protect and uplift others, fulfilling the duty I believe comes with such abilities. On the other hand, the chaotic and often ruthless nature of the contracts makes it difficult to consistently apply these ideals.

When everything I thought was true is put in doubt, I react with a mixture of resilience and introspection. The constant challenge to my beliefs forces me to adapt and reconsider my values. It is exhausting and often disheartening, but it also strengthens my resolve to find a balance between power and responsibility. I strive to honor my father's teachings and use my abilities not just for personal advancement, but to create a semblance of order and justice in a world that desperately needs it.

In the end, the contracts have taught me that the truth is often fluid, and one must be flexible yet steadfast in their principles. The power I possess is both a gift and a burden, and navigating this duality is a constant struggle. Yet, it is a struggle that I embrace, knowing that it brings me closer to understanding myself and my place in this unpredictable world.