It's
crazy, I know. I've been there, I've
lived it. I'm
done with it.
We all are what we are.
We
all must accept that, or else we, by no means, will ever be capable to
understand anything else. Though my words are powerful, they are the
truth, and the truth is all that
is.
My name is
Chnoe, and I have come to accept who and
what I am.
Though I am not proud of my past and its contents, I am willing to share my history.
It
seems my memory has become foggy. Allow me time to
remember.
Name: Chnoe Le Lay
Alias: Address me by my Name
Gender: Female
Age: Look in a History Book
Soul Mate: No
Savior:
SilverComrades:
Miss Lue, and
Toreind.
Residence: Alvano
Enjoys: Books, any Scripture, quiet.
Disharmony: Noise, paper cuts, food.
The following I am about to mention are considered my
blood relatives though none of us are truly related.
Silver is considered our mother, and leader of
this family. She is the one whom saved me from a mishap with a fallen tree, and replaced my lame leg, faulty ear, and broken tail with machinery. She is the one who mixed her own blood with the oil that pulses through my veins, and saved my life. Dear Silver has some self esteem issues, and haunting memories, but she and her partner, Worsett, are slowly building themselves up again from scratch.
Kromanga is our youngest, and the only other family member that is able to comprehend how I feel. Though lately she has come up missing, and I have heard rumors she has passed, I do not believe the nonsense. She is too shifty, and could easily outsmart Death. Kromanga is, has, and always will be different, and she hasn't learned to cope with herself, and therefore her heart is closed to everything. Ever since she lost her family she has never been the same, and I deeply feel for the poor creature.
Shigiomarory has become something otherworldly, and I avoid her at all means necessary. The Curse has altered her, and she is past the point of all return and recognition. I'm not even sure if she can be categorized under the Genus of Hippocampus anymore. She used to be, as you might say,
normal before her encounter with a deep sea creature. I'm not sure if it was the poisonous fumes or the being himself that changed her, but when she bubbled back up the surface she had changed. She cursed at us and spoke that she never wanted to see us or the surface lands again. And we have not seen her since.
Chisomachi is our second youngest, but he acts so infantile it's unimaginable. He is too
upbeat, you could say, for me. He and I follow different crowds, and we never really speak to each other. On special occasions we meet amongst others where he tends to act more civilized than usual, but he never stays long. He is considered nocturnal, because of his parties and raves, and isn't usually seen in the light. But, if he is ever out, you can guarantee he is with his love,
Tiki.
The ones mention below are some of my dearest friends, they are dear and are great companions. I imagine I'm one of the luckiest creatures to have such long enduring friendships.
Miss Lue is such a dear individual. She is an amazingly sweet, well tempered, and accepting dragon, and she never ceases to amaze me with her train of thought. She is brilliant, and ready to go on every escapade you throw at her. Though lately, with my foul moods, I think I've sadly driven her away, but I do wish so much that we could meet once more and sort out the past.
Toreind was a sweetie. I think at one point I fell for him, but something got in our way, and our ways parted momentarily. I think that is the final straw that broke the camel's back; I no longer love, for I fear the pain afterwards. But, in the time we had roamed Negative, we formed a good bond for a friendship. He thinks I consider him
weird, but in actuality, he's normal, giving and sweet. I really like him.
Though I would love to have someone to enjoy my presence, I don't think any creature in their right mind would like me. In my current state, I am unstable, and lonely, and I tend to drive off many. Sadly, I imagine I will never find the one for me. On the good side, I still have my friends.
In recent years the act of cloning of two-celled embryos and simple-celled creatures has become more and more popular. As soon as I do some research on the topic, I, too, will be able to create clones.
Some, indeed have already mastered the art of cloning, and I am lucky enough to have small mirrors of myself.
Some have taken on upon themselves whom has the best presentation or explanation of their life, and are, in return, rewarded for their great wording. These are my spoils and trophies others have presented to me.
Paths, some call them, others icons and quilt patches. I, on the other hand, refer to them as windows, and the one that reminds you of me, a mirror.
Windows
