(no subject)
The following Section is in an old fashioned Florentine Italian, the page is lined with quick sketches and tiny details of design quickly picked out in ink:
I don’t understand… it makes no sense to me; it’s like I’m watching myself in a mirror played by some actor. It’s been a month now, almost, but they never let me out. James is always so bored he pretends I don’t exist, even if he lets me paint, he won’t admit it’s me. Julian scares me however; he’s a brute, utterly inhuman. I know when he’s thinking things and they scare me too. He makes me paint the horrible things he’s done, everyone thinks they are imaginary, they don’t know the truth, they don’t know what he did to that girl, over and over, and he makes me paint every detail.
I wonder about Victoria, she seems to almost like his cruelty, it’s disgusting, but it’s the only time she smiles. That poor thing must have been shattered by what her Sire did to her. I know what we did back then, but the Malkavian who took the poor thing must have truly been a monster. I’m going to paint her one night I think, the way she was when we met, delicate, innocent of all these crimes she’s seen, I need to think on that.
They were cruel to Roxanne, I of all people know it wasn’t her fault; she was a victim, just like the rest of us, why doesn’t anyone rise above the past? It broke my heart to see her painting in shreds, so much effort and emotion wasted. It was Julian’s idea, but James agreed, he thought it would be appropriate revenge for loosing Victoria, he should know better.
-G
A page later the text is in French, it’s heavily penned, as if the writer was angry and took it out on the paper, other than a few ink blotches it shows no sign of decoration:
That little BITCH! She’s lying, I KNOW SHE”S LYING! The others don’t believe me. Her little trembling lip was OH so convincing. I think not.
So she loves Victoria, she CARES. We can fix that.
As for Victoria, we know where her heart is, and so I take what I want. She doesn’t need it, there’s too much blood to go around anyway isn’t there? She is such a little tramp when it comes to the knife; I hope her husband enjoys the gift I sent him. All that delicious suffering. She hurt us tonight, those memories, she’s too weak to stomach them but I will NOT be the victim of her game.
The others care about her, but they can be forced to my way of thinking. Soon, very soon!
-Julian B.
The final page of the sequence is in James’ normally neat handwriting in the usual English:
Something is wrong, the games have gone on as usual, and yet I feel my control is slipping. I worry that I am not quite myself. There are other pressures I cannot account for. It’s as if my old masks have taken on a life of their own. Disconcerting.
Whatever this may be, it is an amusing chaos. I will need to think on it. The others become quiet unless they are triggered. Perhaps it will be best to determine what does it, I can avoid those situations. Giacomo, a name I haven’t used in centuries now, it’s as if he is all that was ever good in me, and yet all the weakness too, is this the madness Victoria spoke of? As if “good” were something I might aspire to, pure foolishness. Julian however, he is trouble. He seems able to force me into quiet; I become irrational, violent, openly so, I must be careful.
-JB
I don’t understand… it makes no sense to me; it’s like I’m watching myself in a mirror played by some actor. It’s been a month now, almost, but they never let me out. James is always so bored he pretends I don’t exist, even if he lets me paint, he won’t admit it’s me. Julian scares me however; he’s a brute, utterly inhuman. I know when he’s thinking things and they scare me too. He makes me paint the horrible things he’s done, everyone thinks they are imaginary, they don’t know the truth, they don’t know what he did to that girl, over and over, and he makes me paint every detail.
I wonder about Victoria, she seems to almost like his cruelty, it’s disgusting, but it’s the only time she smiles. That poor thing must have been shattered by what her Sire did to her. I know what we did back then, but the Malkavian who took the poor thing must have truly been a monster. I’m going to paint her one night I think, the way she was when we met, delicate, innocent of all these crimes she’s seen, I need to think on that.
They were cruel to Roxanne, I of all people know it wasn’t her fault; she was a victim, just like the rest of us, why doesn’t anyone rise above the past? It broke my heart to see her painting in shreds, so much effort and emotion wasted. It was Julian’s idea, but James agreed, he thought it would be appropriate revenge for loosing Victoria, he should know better.
-G
A page later the text is in French, it’s heavily penned, as if the writer was angry and took it out on the paper, other than a few ink blotches it shows no sign of decoration:
That little BITCH! She’s lying, I KNOW SHE”S LYING! The others don’t believe me. Her little trembling lip was OH so convincing. I think not.
So she loves Victoria, she CARES. We can fix that.
As for Victoria, we know where her heart is, and so I take what I want. She doesn’t need it, there’s too much blood to go around anyway isn’t there? She is such a little tramp when it comes to the knife; I hope her husband enjoys the gift I sent him. All that delicious suffering. She hurt us tonight, those memories, she’s too weak to stomach them but I will NOT be the victim of her game.
The others care about her, but they can be forced to my way of thinking. Soon, very soon!
-Julian B.
The final page of the sequence is in James’ normally neat handwriting in the usual English:
Something is wrong, the games have gone on as usual, and yet I feel my control is slipping. I worry that I am not quite myself. There are other pressures I cannot account for. It’s as if my old masks have taken on a life of their own. Disconcerting.
Whatever this may be, it is an amusing chaos. I will need to think on it. The others become quiet unless they are triggered. Perhaps it will be best to determine what does it, I can avoid those situations. Giacomo, a name I haven’t used in centuries now, it’s as if he is all that was ever good in me, and yet all the weakness too, is this the madness Victoria spoke of? As if “good” were something I might aspire to, pure foolishness. Julian however, he is trouble. He seems able to force me into quiet; I become irrational, violent, openly so, I must be careful.
-JB