I'd be doing more than one person a disservice as well. For however long it might last. You won't be changing my mind, though seems be neither will I be changing yours.
Upon the matter of whom is worse, we may need agree to disagree. I won't turn down whatever help you offer me, and I'll see what I may do to return the favor, even should it be but minor.
Consider it my parting gift to you. It's not a thing I'm expecting repayment for. If you really wanted to do something, just write me a Statement. Or dictate one to someone else.
We all need to eat, Father. Sometimes, you can't avoid feeding your addiction in the process.
Ones with a significant amount of fear. I expect most things in your world would qualify for the sort of necessary content beyond that.
I sometimes wonder that about the stories I feed on. Not having them makes me feel ill, weak and thin. I know some of it's real, but I don't know if I'd actually die if I stopped. I'm frightened enough of that happening that I keep feeding.
A reasonable expectation, and not incorrect. I should have several that ought to suffice well enough.
There was life before the addiction, for both of us. We've made it this far without them, one would imagine we'd do well enough again should they be taken away.
But such things are far easier said than done. How long have you gone without a story, if I may? What happened during your abstinence?
[Jon is dubious that he'll ever be able to survive without the Eye and his addiction again. Not for any length of time, anyway. Not as himself.]
Here? Two weeks, I think. I began losing control of myself. I stalked people and fed on them, ripped out their stories. I should have locked myself up after the first one, but I was so hungry.
[A story all too familiar for the hunter, with the same regrets attached to it, granted far less gory.]
Do you lose yourself in it if you indulge? The hunger, that is. What would happen should you lose all inhibition?
Has any before you done the same?
I ask only due to the circumstances of those lost to bloodlust in Yharnam. To submit wholly to the addiction means to forfeit ones humanity, the transformation into a beast is made whole and permanent. What of you?
Yes and no. I lose myself in the moment, but I know what I've done after. I know what I've chosen to do. If I stopped caring about the consequences, though, I suppose I could lose all inhibitions.
I expect I'd be happier. I've been informed I brood and wallow too much. I'd be healthier. I'd feed whenever I wanted and be content with it. There are some physical changes that could occur.
We had a Statement once at home about a man who found horrible creatures with a single, enormous, staring eye hidden away in the ruins of a famous library. They were Archivists once. I don't know what brought about their transformation, but expect they let go of whatever humanity they once had.
[I know what I've done. I know what I've chosen to do. There's no response for a moment as he mulled over the answer, memories coming and going as he replayed the words.]
Happier until the inevitable happened, at least. It isn't even a choice between a shorter, happier life or a longer but miserable one.
[Sure it was death in a sense, to succumb and lose one's humanity, but 'in a sense' wasn't quite literal enough, wasn't quite merciful enough.]
I've heard it said that the plague of beasts upon Yharnam is a curse, a punishment sent by slighted gods. Though it seems sometimes as if it holds no rhyme nor reason at all, just madness for the sake of it. I'd not been a hunter once, aught that I've done that could be worthy of punishment like this has all been in the name of the Church, and had I not sought healing, as the others, I'd never have gone.
What was I to do however, aside from languish and die? What would you have done?
Maybe those things were happy. They had what they wanted. Knowledge, fear... It's easier to be content when you're hardly more than an animal.
[He reads over the rest and doesn't reply for a good long while, too wrapped up in those final questions.]
I already made the choice to live, Father. I should have died when a building collapsed on top of me three years ago. I was dead until the Eye pulled me back. I'm not the right person to ask that question. Just another coward too afraid to die.
[Close to it, anyway. Djura certainly would have argued that perhaps the beasts prowling old Yharnam were just as happy to be the way they were, anything to have the far gone former men spared.]
Another among a hundred thousand others, not wanting to die is not such a lamentable trait. Quite human, in fact.
To lack fear of death is to have lost something intrinsically human about you. Perhaps there is some solace in that, at least.
You sound like someone I know, as well. He's an avatar for Dread Power called Terminus. The End. It's one of the oldest Fears and the least active. It doesn't really need to do anything. Most living things fear death, the ultimate unknown.
Are you afraid of living, as well, Father? Knowing what you're going to become.
A beast doesn't. That I still fear death is a pittance, a small thing, but it is still confirmation that there is humanity yet to be found in me.
I feel it so little now.
[Another long pause, as he searched for the right words to use, unwilling to reveal too much.]
From aught that I recall of home, thanks to the intervention of your employer [Or at least now what he could only assume was Elias's intervention then, in spite of the other man's seeming denial of the fact,] There is little now that I've to fear from living, anymore.
I think that might be a difference for the monsters we're each becoming. The ones in my world still fear death, even the ones who serve it. It's part of what we are. But these things in my world feed on fear. It wouldn't do to rob their servants of that. I think it's once you stop caring about the people you hurt. The things you've done. That's when your humanity starts to go.
I suppose I'm afraid of living knowing that day will come. I'll get used to it.
What did Elias show you? He's my former employer, by the by. We don't work together anymore.
Seems be. Whatever god or being is to blame for the plague in Yharnam, it seems fair fit to assume it's their departure and condemnation that has damned it. There is no use for the beasts other than carnage.
Regardless, the same still holds true for the afflicted, an animal cares little about the life its prey, whether it be a stranger, or former family and friends.
[Once more, several minutes pass before the response is made.]
Elias restored memories that had become buried, in my untimely departure from Yharnam. I would rather not speak of them. I will only tell you that there is nothing left to concern me if or when I return to Yharnam.
And as I am here, death seems but temporary and holds little meaning.
If nothing else, they would be able to monitor it, and put a swift end to any rampages before they may start.
[Death was cheap here, he'd heard. And it wasn't as if he'd not sampled death in the dream before.]
Though that would do little to prevent future circumstances such as the one we've dealt with here. But unless they have a way of ending the desire for blood, I fear that will always be a possibility.
Possibly. Does having blood help you stay calm, or does it just make it worse? Do you need to take it or could you drink it from a bag? I could give you some of my blood, I just prefer a different donation method.
I feel it's absence quite powerfully, the fears it once suppressed and the nightmares it once erased creeping back with every day of my abstinence. I feel my age, and the changes caused by my intemperance more powerfully without it.
'Our thirst for blood satiates us, soothes our fears', so the prayer goes.
I could imbibe it from a flask, it need not be taken directly at all. Indeed it normally isn't.
[For those who weren't desperate and half beast already.]
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no subject
Upon the matter of whom is worse, we may need agree to disagree. I won't turn down whatever help you offer me, and I'll see what I may do to return the favor, even should it be but minor.
no subject
It's not a thing I'm expecting repayment for.
If you really wanted to do something, just write me a Statement.
Or dictate one to someone else.
We all need to eat, Father.
Sometimes, you can't avoid feeding your addiction in the process.
no subject
I wish for a time passed, where my imbibment was done but for medicinal reasons. I could not tell you if I need it, or if I only fear not having it.
no subject
I expect most things in your world would qualify for the sort of necessary content beyond that.
I sometimes wonder that about the stories I feed on.
Not having them makes me feel ill, weak and thin.
I know some of it's real, but I don't know if I'd actually die if I stopped.
I'm frightened enough of that happening that I keep feeding.
no subject
There was life before the addiction, for both of us. We've made it this far without them, one would imagine we'd do well enough again should they be taken away.
But such things are far easier said than done. How long have you gone without a story, if I may? What happened during your abstinence?
no subject
Here?
Two weeks, I think.
I began losing control of myself.
I stalked people and fed on them, ripped out their stories.
I should have locked myself up after the first one, but I was so hungry.
no subject
Do you lose yourself in it if you indulge? The hunger, that is. What would happen should you lose all inhibition?
Has any before you done the same?
I ask only due to the circumstances of those lost to bloodlust in Yharnam. To submit wholly to the addiction means to forfeit ones humanity, the transformation into a beast is made whole and permanent. What of you?
no subject
I lose myself in the moment, but I know what I've done after.
I know what I've chosen to do.
If I stopped caring about the consequences, though, I suppose I could lose all inhibitions.
I expect I'd be happier.
I've been informed I brood and wallow too much.
I'd be healthier.
I'd feed whenever I wanted and be content with it.
There are some physical changes that could occur.
We had a Statement once at home about a man who found horrible creatures with a single, enormous, staring eye hidden away in the ruins of a famous library.
They were Archivists once.
I don't know what brought about their transformation, but expect they let go of whatever humanity they once had.
no subject
Happier until the inevitable happened, at least. It isn't even a choice between a shorter, happier life or a longer but miserable one.
[Sure it was death in a sense, to succumb and lose one's humanity, but 'in a sense' wasn't quite literal enough, wasn't quite merciful enough.]
I've heard it said that the plague of beasts upon Yharnam is a curse, a punishment sent by slighted gods. Though it seems sometimes as if it holds no rhyme nor reason at all, just madness for the sake of it. I'd not been a hunter once, aught that I've done that could be worthy of punishment like this has all been in the name of the Church, and had I not sought healing, as the others, I'd never have gone.
What was I to do however, aside from languish and die? What would you have done?
no subject
They had what they wanted.
Knowledge, fear... It's easier to be content when you're hardly more than an animal.
[He reads over the rest and doesn't reply for a good long while, too wrapped up in those final questions.]
I already made the choice to live, Father.
I should have died when a building collapsed on top of me three years ago.
I was dead until the Eye pulled me back.
I'm not the right person to ask that question.
Just another coward too afraid to die.
no subject
[Close to it, anyway. Djura certainly would have argued that perhaps the beasts prowling old Yharnam were just as happy to be the way they were, anything to have the far gone former men spared.]
Another among a hundred thousand others, not wanting to die is not such a lamentable trait. Quite human, in fact.
To lack fear of death is to have lost something intrinsically human about you. Perhaps there is some solace in that, at least.
no subject
He's an avatar for Dread Power called Terminus.
The End.
It's one of the oldest Fears and the least active.
It doesn't really need to do anything.
Most living things fear death, the ultimate unknown.
Are you afraid of living, as well, Father?
Knowing what you're going to become.
no subject
I feel it so little now.
[Another long pause, as he searched for the right words to use, unwilling to reveal too much.]
From aught that I recall of home, thanks to the intervention of your employer [Or at least now what he could only assume was Elias's intervention then, in spite of the other man's seeming denial of the fact,] There is little now that I've to fear from living, anymore.
no subject
The ones in my world still fear death, even the ones who serve it.
It's part of what we are.
But these things in my world feed on fear.
It wouldn't do to rob their servants of that.
I think it's once you stop caring about the people you hurt.
The things you've done.
That's when your humanity starts to go.
I suppose I'm afraid of living knowing that day will come.
I'll get used to it.
What did Elias show you?
He's my former employer, by the by.
We don't work together anymore.
no subject
Regardless, the same still holds true for the afflicted, an animal cares little about the life its prey, whether it be a stranger, or former family and friends.
[Once more, several minutes pass before the response is made.]
Elias restored memories that had become buried, in my untimely departure from Yharnam. I would rather not speak of them. I will only tell you that there is nothing left to concern me if or when I return to Yharnam.
And as I am here, death seems but temporary and holds little meaning.
no subject
Would you rather be able to die here than return home?
no subject
no subject
Have you spoken to anyone at Haven about your condition?
There might not be a cure in your world, but it's possible there's something here.
no subject
Understandably, there is some hesitation in admitting that I could potentially become dangerous, if there is no cure to be had.
no subject
In your case, that risk may be worth it if you're going to be stuck here in perpetuity.
no subject
[Death was cheap here, he'd heard. And it wasn't as if he'd not sampled death in the dream before.]
Though that would do little to prevent future circumstances such as the one we've dealt with here. But unless they have a way of ending the desire for blood, I fear that will always be a possibility.
no subject
Does having blood help you stay calm, or does it just make it worse?
Do you need to take it or could you drink it from a bag?
I could give you some of my blood, I just prefer a different donation method.
no subject
'Our thirst for blood satiates us, soothes our fears', so the prayer goes.
I could imbibe it from a flask, it need not be taken directly at all. Indeed it normally isn't.
[For those who weren't desperate and half beast already.]
I could not ask that of you.
no subject
Or there have to be people who are into that sort of thing when there are places like Fangtasy.