Heya, asshat. Long time no see. I haven't written in this thing since I was a little girl. But then, I never really got a chance to grow up, so y'know. Guess it's not gay to still have a diary or anything. Anyway. I got a lot of shit I want to talk about but there's nobody around. I dumped probably the last friends I'll ever make to take off on another super homeless adventure. Not a super adventure, like, uh. I'm just super homeless. I can't stay in one place for very long or the cops will figure out where I went. I don't ever talk about it, and I sure never wrote down what happened a while back that's got me running all over the place. Opening up to a couple idiots lately kinda made me reflect on some stuff. I been sleeping in caves and park benches since sixteen but I ain't never felt this lonely before. Like, even when I was living with my ma and dad things were hard. I grew up with two brothers and a sister and ma and dad were just struggling to feed themselves. I mean, it was an ugly city, yeah, and I did my fair share of shitty stuff, but I really didn't deserve what that man did. At least, I don't think so. I keep saying it, hoping it'll sound a little righter every time, but it doesn't. Still hurts. I can still feel his gross, hairy hands all over me. Spoiler: Graphic depiction Anyway, so about a month or two ago some shady street gang approached me about a job. They didn't want their guys getting in trouble so they figured they'd send in some shitty street rat or whatever. Color me flattered. I didn't give a shit, I needed the money. They wanted me to break into Sergeant Mikhail's house and get his keys to the police station on 22nd Street. I don't know or care why. But I went through the window when I knew he'd gone out. I found the keys easy enough and was just on my way out the door when it opened up. There was that hairy, disgusting fucknugget in the flesh. I couldn't believe it, and neither could he. Apparently the asshole forgot something, and we just sat there and stared at each other for the longest time. Now, we kinda had a bit of history. I was always getting hauled in on some petty beef and he was usually the one running the interrogations. He'd always looked at me kinda funny. But nothing sent a cold shiver down my spine like the smile he gave me then. When he stepped in and wrapped his hand around my throat, and slammed me against the refrigerator, I thought I was going to die. And when he whispered something to my face, all the blood in me just froze. organs backflipped. feathers flared. 'I always knew you liked me' he said. I'll never forget that. Ever. And I'll never forget the way he grabbed me, either. How he tore my shirt down the middle like a hungry animal, the way his thick, sausage fingers struggled to take my pants off. The way he kept looking at me. Things went red. That's all I remember in that moment. Things went red and I reached for his gun and I shot him. And I kept shooting him until his gun went empty. I was terrified. Like any reasonable self-preserving body I was horrified. I had to go, but I just, I was so angry, and so disgusted that I couldn't. So I turned on his gas stove and fireplace. I remember lighting a match and tossing it in, hearing a loud explosion, then everything was on fire. And I thought it was over. I lit a cigarette and stared for a long time. Watched the flames dance and discolor the walls. Everything he had toppled down on him. I still had the bastard's keys. He had two ships, so I took off a sock, dipped it in the gas tank, and lit it, then took his federation cruiser. I figured if they were going to chase me, I might as well be as fast as them. Turns out the ship wasn't faster than their bullets. Just before the ex-atmo jump one of their lasers tore a hole right through the life support hose. I didn't find out til later, though. Anyway... I've been running ever since. And now there's money on my head, and I find out he isn't even dead for what he did. If I ever see his horrid, nauseating face again, I'll make sure he is dead.
So this is what it's like to have nothing I lit the fire so long ago, and I've been running, and fighting, and running ever since, hoping and praying that the flames never caught up. I stood still too long. I looked back and saw the worlds crumble and cave in my wake, felt the flames lick and singe my feathers while the demons tried to drag and claw me to hell. Even now I can feel their greasy, blood-stained hands on my throat, clear as the day Pinewood burned. I can taste the embers and smoke on my tongue, smell it in my clothes. It'll never come out. Everything I touch turns to ruin, and everywhere I go people suffer. I was bathing when it happened. An armored goon tried to draw on me, but I knew, just by looking him over that he wanted me. I'm not an idiot. I remembered to set up traps beforehand. Lanterns hung above the only cover in the caves that I could shoot from either side without exposing myself to cover them in burning oil. They were meant for the floran bounty hunters, but at the best case, I could blind the armored one. Naked, I scrambled out of the pool, drawing my weapon from behind the rock formation. popped the lantern. gathered the rest of my things, and ran. I remember feeling the sting in my back when the bullet struck me. that fucking prick. I wanted to stop and drop everything right then and just tear his eyes out with my beak and talons and burn his barely-breathing half-corpse. But I didn't. I can't take a fully armored assault-rifle wielding maniac naked. I knew I couldn't. So I tried to escape, keeping against the wall. As soon as he opened the door behind me, I fired on him. It damn near tore his arm clean off, and that's the last thing I remember before everything going black. When I came to, I was staring at the ceiling of the tunnel, listening to angry shouting. That inbred fucknobbler was holding me hostage in his arm. I couldn't move, but Kluex above I was so furious. Then, the florans showed up as he was carrying me away. They exchanged fire... I don't know who was hit by what, all I knew was I had to fight back somehow. By now, I'd regained use of my arms and reached for the nearest thing I could- a lantern on a pole. I wanted to hang onto it and allow the florans to catch up, but- the lantern came off in my hand. All I could think to do was pour the burning oil into the seam in the armored attacker's armor between his helmet and neck. The person screamed, I remember. I remember feeling that sickening churn in my stomach as I imagined the oil scarring and disfiguring its flesh and muscle, but he wouldn't let me go. He wouldn't... So I began stabbing into the hole with my talons, jabbing, and jabbing, and stabbing, and tearing... and I remember the instant I stubbed my finger on his spine... and I thought I was going to vomit... and he finally did drop me. He dropped everything. and we fell down a flight of stairs together. Except he didn't get up. But I had to keep moving, because the florans were after me. So was their pet- some- some, savage- teeth... just... this thing latched onto me. The armored man crushed my right arm, and I've never felt so much agony- at least, not until that monster attached itself to me. I remember crying out. Rage oozed from my beak. I didn't even think. I just remember red. Everything was red. And I plunged my talons so deep into its eyes... and I scrambled its brains until it stopped thrashing and tearing me. I remember trying to lift it off my arm- as the tall floran threw a knife. it sank into the beast, and I dropped it, took the knife, and sprinted. Across an open field... the tall one had a rifle. Of course. An open field. and a rifle. Odds were awful, but I did my best to serpentine. I remember how that hot round tore across my back and exploded the fencepost just a few meters away. There was a tree, then a hill... I remember throwing down a lantern to impede the short one's pursuit... she was gaining fast with a spear, and by now I was reduced to a wounded hobble. Before the tall one could take a shot at me, I ducked behind the tree, then scrambled up the hill to some strangers' bewildered look. I was naked, filthy, and covered in blood, so I can understand why they'd be mortified. Especially with the gunfire. At the top of the hill, they finally caught me. I tried to throw one last lantern, but the tall one nailed me with a knife. I dropped the lantern at my feet, and everything began to burn. The florans were on me in no time- and for the first time in my life, I begged for help. I remember screaming until I was hoarse and choked. Literally choked, by the short floran. The tall one kicked me in the side of the head. I remember clawing, and thrashing. It was all I could do. Everything was getting dark. Getting red. I wanted to kill. I wanted to maim her corpse, snap her forearm between my bloodied, ruined hands. But I couldn't. I couldn't even move with her on top of me. I remember looking around for help. A brown avian and a red one. They were about to leave me to die. But the brown one... he threw dirt in their eyes. and I began to crawl away. I don't know what happened after. I just remember the roar of fire, being carried by a novakid with... cat ears... and Doc Omizu. That's all. Everything after that is fuzzy until I woke up in her lab. I've been recovering on Millie's ship since. Nowhere is safe for me. She was all I had left, and I ruined it. I ruin everything I touch. I wanted to make everything right with her. And I blew it. Whatever happens now, I deserve it. I'm so tired of running. I'm so tired of fighting. I can't do this much longer. I'm all alone again. No ship, no friends. Pas is being sent back to Avos. Millie... I struck her. I didn't even mean to. The only one left that genuinely cares, and I struck her. And I ran. I ran before I could ruin her too. She tried to stop me, of course, but I refuse to be her burden when all she does is give, and give, and all I do is take and destroy. She doesn't deserve that. So I used the teleporter. And I forced myself to walk through the char and the ash that used to be Pinewood. Forced myself to look at it. This is the ruin I bring. This is the legacy of the Firebird, spirit of Wrath. this is what it's like to have nothing
*her beaten-ass diary is laying on top of the nightstand by her bed. If anyone were to walk into her room, it's likely the first thing they'd see. Aside from the trophies she's stolen, of course.* When I wrote the last entry, everything was wrong. I was still in my fight and flight mindset. Things have really been looking up since I moved into the Springs. There's a lot of exciting news, but I can't write it down... it's not the right time just yet. But I can say that I'm ready to settle down and start a family. I've been running and gunning for years now. My body is tired and worn and I'm ready to just topple over most days. All those years of pushing my limits with nothing but a few pearlpeas a day have really caught up. Since I moved in, these ding-dongs have been feeding me some seriously delightful shit. It's done all kinds of work on my appetite. Some days I just can't get enough and gorge my belly on stew, though I'd never admit I enjoy his cooking. Especially here lately. For the first time in my life I wanted to try pickle juice. That doesn't seem so bizarre to me, but when I took the pickle juice jar from Ragnorak and started sipping from it, people were looking at me like I was crazy. Fuck all'y'all, I wanted to know what pickle juice tasted like. I've also been dying to try all kinds of other weird foods. Something about this new home just must make me want to try new stuff. Lovepeck and I need to have a long, serious talk about the future. If I'm going to stay here, there's some things he needs to know. I'll tell him tomorrow night. It's strange that I'm so nervous and excited about this... I haven't felt this way before. I just hope he takes it alright.
