On events at the Turtle and a BIT at Teleios. Crossposted to DearPlayer

[solo_patria]

Today is your American Day of Thanks and I, most assuredly, Madame Mundane, am not thankful for you. I was, I suppose, to a point, that over in Teleios, you managed, at last, to negotiate with the moderators who play my captors to allow me to have something of my soul back.

[It was an all game event, Enjolras. Everyone in game got something and all it required was the mun telling the mods what you would like. It's not a torture chamber there. ]

I will also, no doubt, look forward to the months ahead, given the ability of expression I've had given back to me, with a real press, and a paper, and I was thankful to have found some sympathetic individuals, even a few who might become new friends there, and I do wish to speak with the Lady Jane again, and soon, and all in my life there is slowly, but rather steadily, improving, and I realize that I ought to feel some measure of gratitude towards you, and in the matter of that place I do.

But in the matter of my other world, of the Island that has been my shelter and my home, given me a daughter, the younger "siblings" that I never knew that I would like to have, and that I have been proud to defend and fight for, and even found a new career in, you have finally managed, finally managed, to use my deepest fears and regrets against me so very effectively that I have literally no idea of where to go from here, and have no desire other than to curl myself into a shaking ball for days, perhaps even a week or longer.



I realize this is the final battle, and that you have come to understand and know me, and my fears well, since the last time that similar happened to me, but you have... Malicant the being of shadows who threatens the balance of the world, who we are on the verge of vanquishing as the month ends is, yes, my greatest fear, and worst regret suffered on this island, in the early days, and despite the strength I've found since then, you have still seen fit to exploit the terror that will never go away.

You have given me over to that dark lord, made me nothing more than his property, enslaved me to him, perhaps for all time, in a prison of my undead friends, where he is allowed not only to injure me, but to touch me, and to haul me around, and force me to my knees for him, and I do not....

I cannot...

The broken arm and shoulder, and the dislocated pair of shoulders is one thing. Even the scar you've given me is but one thing, and those I can endure. The rest of it, the slavery, my friends made into mindless rotting servants of a lord of shadows and fear, and myself drawn in to join them in that state, after I am "broken" to it, made into a good and obedient pet is quite another.

I will not ask how you could do this, because I suppose by now that I know your cruelties are not reserved to those who are not me, but this is so deliberate, so terrible, and so complete that I do not know that I will function there again, though I very much wish to as the new world comes in to play. I will however ask you, yet again as many of us seem to, What In HELL Is Wrong With You?"

I simply do not...I have not... There is nothing to be done, and I will never escape him after, even if I walk from there, and I know that now. I still live with what was done to me in July of a year ago, and still have wished to die with it, and now you bring me this new, and incredibly varied, infinitely worse version of events to cope with.

So, No, Madame, I am not thankful, I am far from grateful, and you had better have a good way out of this one, I assure you, if you ever wanted my respect again.

-A. Enjolras

Comments

[overshadowedingly]

It grieves me to know you suffer so. You or any man, indeed. Sympathies are frail things in so grim a shadow, yet for what they are, you have mine.

Your mundane should be ashamed.

Yet I would have you know that there is ever hope, even in so dark a time. One day, you will be free.