Happy, Happy Birthday

That's right guys, your favorite LoreMaster/Seeker is having a birthday! Now, to be perfectly honest, I have no idea exactly how old I am, or if this is really my chronological birthday, seeing as several years passed in the space of like two days for me.
Anyway, on this day, sixteen years ago for you lot, anywhere between eighteen and twenty-something for me, I was born. It wasn't a glamorous situation, nor was it celebrated with the giving of gifts. That didn't start happening until about a year later. It was just a woman squeezing out a seven-pounds, sixteen-ounces baby which was named Ashley Nicole (and no last name for you)
Now, I've actually decided to keep September sixteenth as my birthday on my new (totally not forged) documentation. I've made my new name to be Nicole Vix (it'll be Strider here soon, so last name no matter). Fully fleshed out, really nice. It says I'm twenty-one, so that's cool.
We aren't going to be having much of a celebration for it. Maybe some cake and steaks. Definitely steaks. I like steak.
Presents aren't that big of a concern for me, honestly, seeing as my (definitely not forged at all) inheritance left me with several million dollars. I can buy whatever I want and even if I couldn't afford it, I could always just kill whoever owns it (kiddingnotkidding)

I've been thinking about life before all of this happened, and I wish I knew what it would be like. Would I be happier? I'd definitely be younger, probably single. Definitely would not have a kid. I'd still be in school. I wouldn't have met Strider, though. If it weren't for that, then I'd want to go back. But I have my family now, and they are my life. On the last September sixteenth, I was so young... I had no idea what was coming, I had no idea that, by the time my next birthday came, I would be years older, a murderer, engaged, with a kid, any of it.

Sometimes I regret becoming a Seeker. I almost miss being a Runner, though I really wasn't at it long enough to start running. I remember the fear, and sometimes I think that's better than the joy.
Guys, I haven't been posting that often because I very little to say. My life has honestly not been anything interesting for you lot to watch. I give you occasional updates just so you know I'm alive. I may quit the blog soon, I don't know if it's worth it anymore.
I started on one blog to make sure I didn't go out quietly. I started a second because the first was taken from me. I then joined a blog because I lost the second as well. After that, I made this one, this blog that has seen so much of who I am, but nowhere near all of it.

I really see all of you as friends, but the fact that I would kill any of you with barely any hesitation worries me. It worries me more than I can say.

Today, I celebrate my birth, tomorrow, though, could celebrate my end. I hold no delusions of grandeur now. I am a weapon, and weapons break. I want, with all my heart, to grow old, to live a long and happy life, but the chances of that are small. You Runners have a damn good chance if you stop dying, if you start working together. Trust is a good thing, y'know.

I've been blathering for a while now, so I'll let you go now. Bye.

Astrid

Here

I just picked her up the other day.  She looked awful.  She was dirty, her clothes torn and stained, her hair a complete mess.  She was hurt, pretty badly from the looks of it, but getting her to let me touch even just to Path her back was nigh impossible.  

When I first got her into the house, Strider slammed her into a wall and held a blade to her neck for several seconds before I got him to let her go.  I set her up in our spare room and directed her to where she could take a shower and loaned her some of my clothes.  She seemed grateful enough, though she still refuses to let me look at her wounds.  

She's going to have to stop being scared of me if I'm going to teach her anything.  Erin seems to be enjoying her company, at least.  The box, which was not with the kid, has mysteriously popped up in her room.  I'll enjoy rifling through it later.

On and On

Strider was tucking Erin into bed, I was on the couch, drawing.  The lights were dim and the red on my paper almost brought a twisted smile to my lips.  I would share the picture, the beauty of that girl hanging from the side of a water tower, her intestines draped around her elegantly, but it is no longer beautiful to me.

Strider quietly stepped down the hallway, and stood in front of me.  I could see the stiffness in his posture, the determination in his eyes.  He stood there for several seconds before I set the sketchpad aside and stood, my own posture relaxed yet somewhat threatening.  He glanced down before meeting my eyes, his mouth a set and determined line across his face.

"We need to talk"

I narrowed my eyes slightly at this, in an almost cat-like manner.  Rather than display the suspicion and paranoia I felt verbally, I granted him a nonchalant "Oh?"

He stepped forward, and I tensed immediately as he came into the pale light, the shadows falling dark across his face as he spoke, almost softly, yet firmly, "You've changed.... Not in the good way."

I waited for him to continue, my jaw jutting out unintentionally as I fell into a stiffer pose, one more suited to brace for an attack... or to give one. 

"You think of yourself as a Monster, when you are not.  You are a Seeker, a weapon, but you need a release to keep you, come train with me."  He stepped clear of the coffee table, everything about him screaming that I had one chance to accept his offer, or face the consequences.

I laughed bitterly, a slight touch of mania to my tone, a bittersweet smile spread across my lips before I went eerily silent, matching his gaze coldly.  "I am a monster, sweetheart.  And I get plenty of training in when I go out and play with all the little Runners." 

"Sometimes you face others just as trained as you, like Rogue Seekers," 

He kicked at me, lighter than he could have at full power, knocking me back, causing me to curse and pull a knife from my belt, brandishing it expertly, I stepped at him, swinging the blade at his face with a sadistic smile.  He simply leaned back, pushing the arm on past him as he gave me a sharp flat-palmed slap to my ribs.  I continued to swing at him, almost wildly as he continued to give me stinging smacks on my neck, arms, torso, all of which hurt, serving only to anger me further.  He knocked my knife away from me and I pulled another from the small sheathe I kept under my shirt.  His every motion was fluid and clean, my own seeming sloppy and disorganized in comparison.  I caught him on the arm as he blocked, unable to sidestep that particular blow, leaving a deep and nasty red gash down his forearm.  The blood excited me for a moment, his small grunt of pain deeply satisfying, my smile growing larger.  Though his painful smacks were not hindered by this injury, I could feel a well of triumph raising in my chest before I stopped, the knife slipping from my hand and falling to the floor.  I looked at him with wide eyes, unable to comprehend what I had just done.  I stood there, dumbstruck, for several long seconds before falling back, landing with a soft thump on the ground as I stared up at him from my sitting position.

"Strider..... I...... oh god, I'm so sorry...." was all I could say.

He watched me for several moments before glancing down the hallway towards the front door before looking back to me and stepping forward, sitting next to me with a small thud and pulling me in close.



I know what I need to be now.