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Your OC writes down their deepest, innermost secrets for only their eyes to see... except for one other person. Unbeknownst to them, the OC below will read and react to their entry, as so:
Character 1: I had a really bad day at work today... I'm thinking about quitting my job. :(
Character 2: Aww man, that's a bummer. /// I went on a date today, it was fantastic!
Etc.
Rules:
1. Comment after three other posts have gone by, unless 24 hours have passed.
2. No racism, homophobia, transphobia, all that jazz. Just be chill to each other!
3. Black out any sensitive topics, like so! In fact, try to keep it PG-13 so minors can play, too.
4. I don't wanna put a hard limit on how much you can write, just try not to write a whole book report.
Hm, sounds like an older fashioned woman. To feel like the world is moving on quick is a common phenomenon. Perhaps it stems from an uneasiness for change?
Ah well, at least she has someone who feels the same as her to bond with.
Dr. Rostch put the book back where she found it and returned to her work.
5-28-3642 3AM ENTRY LOG.
Quiet day as usual, not many incidents happen early morning. I have so far gone around 29 hours without sleep. Gina has taken the caffeine from my desk and I suspect she's taken the ones hidden in the cabinets too. I doubt she's found the vials in the bookshelf though. Luckily I'm awake as ever and won't need to use them for a while.
I will probably make my rounds in the ward soon to change patient IV bags and straighten out blankets. I wonder if anyone besides me is still awake? I'll find out soon enough I suppose. Also need to wake up that little girl Litsa to give her her next dose of medication. It's been 6 hours already and we can't skip out again.
I will write more in this document if anything interesting comes about.
"Goodness!" The candy-dragon felt his glasses slide down his nose, and his eyes were ajar with surprise. After a while, he'd push them back up, worriedly. "I hope you're not planning anything dangerous, little one..."
Diary Entry of Adelheide Candy-iris, Art Teacher of Rainbow Futures Educational Institute, Elementary Branch
Date: 09/22/2019
Dear diary, today was very successful in class. I had quite a lot of gifted students show their projects to me that provided to be very wonderful and extremely beautiful to look at. These little kids have quite the artistic talent that just HAS to be developed further.
Once I got done with teaching, I had to attend a faculty meeting, which was quite unexpected this early in the new school year. According to the principal, we'll be getting a bunch of new transfer students in the next month, which will prove to be wonderful for teachers like me. Though I can't help but admire the principal in all of his glory- it doesn't help that he was dressed so flamboyantly today. Perhaps later I'll ask if he'd like to go on a date if I'm not too flustered to do so. I'm just remembering that I am a little on the fence to act on my attraction since I have to maintain a good image for my students.
I hope that these new students are wonderfully creative as well, diary! I can't wait till October starts.
Adelheide ~>@
Meredith squints at the entry before snickering crudely, rolling her eyes. "Please, dude, all you gotta do is walk up and be upfront with him, though I..." she smiles and glances to the side for a moment, the slightest hint of red rising to her cheeks. "Kinda get that feel," she admits. Flipping through the pages still, she finds herself growing bored. Why did the diary she came across have to belong to a teacher of all people? And no mention of any faculty scandals? This was utterly boring to Meredith, who'd found her years in education tiresome enough. "Good for you, you have good students, if I was your student you'd say otherwise knowin' me," she snickers, slapping the book shut before tossing it aside. 'Next diary I find better be more interestin' than that.'
Entry 1 and only 1 of this Diary I heavily intend on burning when I'm done with this BS.
I'm just writing this down because I know damn well if I go to Amber about this that she'll make fun of me for it, and as much as I love her I'm not into that today.
So, Mer, you slept with your friend's girlfriend's friend and now you're...dating? Holy shit what the fuck am I DOING? I don't know how love works, man, for the longest time I thought I was only capable of one night stands, y'know? But Rhi she...she brings out something in me I only felt with Amber a while back, but I never got to really...tell Amber how I felt like I got to do here. Rhi's not that experienced with this either, I know, but...I don't wanna fuck this up. This is my first true relationship, I don't wanna fuck this up, man.
But...like how Amber handled it with Vi I...guess I'll just have to see how it all ends up, huh? Just...take it as it comes. Haha, sex joke.
1717 stared down at the passage, reading the first line with a slight chuckle, noting the person hadn't in fact, burned it. His processors hummed quietly as he continued on reading the entry, unsure of how to comment. "Love? Ah! A relationship. That's the...humans way of connecting with one another, I see. Why would one have such difficulty offering up your emotions to someone else?" With that question in mind, 1717 paused, unsure of what sort of answer could be given. Humans? Humans were strange, but it was...something he admired, something he'd...want to experience as this person had.
After a few more moments of contemplation, he glanced down at the bottom of the page, his eye turning slightly yellow, completely confused. "Sex joke...?" His processors kicked up a notch, the sound getting louder as he tried to understand. With a shake of his head, he closed the diary, leaving it in the same spot he found it.
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Years After the Fall - 14
Date - XX-XX-XX
The Doctor does not appear to be doing too well, he has not eaten or slept in a few days. I have urged him to take a break and go back home to his Sector, but he refused. I would try to bring him there, however I'm not allowed out of the Research Sector. I do not understand why they would refuse my request to go out. They only say that I am needed here for the research, and that it would be too dangerous. How is it too dangerous to go out there when the Doctor goes out there? How is it too dangerous when I have been built in this way? A war machine turned 'normal', turned 'safe'?
I suppose I do not understand. Humans are odd, but I have found myself growing an attachment to the Doctor. Unbeknownst to the others, I have volunteered quite often to go outside of the Research Sector, to bring back samples from the contaminated zones. However, I have also found myself growing curious and venturing out past the regions I have needed to stop at. They said Sectors 04 and 06 were ruined beyond repair, that the vegetation was growing back, and that it could not be habitable for others. I went there. I am not sure, I believe my coding was wired against it, only to follow the others orders, but I went there. I do not know of words to describe it, humans would have some phrase, but I could not piece together any words to help others understand. It was an interesting comparison - most of the other Sectors have vibrant lights and heavy tension, but this was light and fresh, as humans would say. I enjoy helping with the research, however I... want to go back to those Sectors. It seems peaceful, quiet. There aren't humans constantly being annoyed or dismissive to other robots, such as myself. I...
Several other lines were crossed out beyond repair in an almost fearful way, attempting to cover up other 'defiant' thoughts of exploring around without permission.
Wren gingerly flipped the pages of the diary, landing on a single passage with various scratched-out remarks and comments. Her curiosity peaked, she skimmed the sentences, picking out bits of pieces that loosely wove a story, unlike anything she had ever read. From what she gathered, the author was clearly a machine of sorts- at least partially, based on the terms and vocabulary they used to refer to themselves and others. They seemed to refer to humans as a separate species foreign to themselves.
"Sector 04 and 06...?" Wren hummed, placing a finger upon a particular sentence. Wherever this being was from was completely new to her- though apparently, those sectors were in ruin, and this being had visited-or was visiting- the area. "How interesting."
She continued her read, gaining insight into this particularly unique scenario. At the end of the page, she squinted at the jagged lines that crossed out now hidden thoughts, before closing the journal and laying back in her chair. What an odd life this machine lives, one of such confliction and desire to explore. "I do hope that this 'Doctor' is doing well... good luck, whoever wrote this."
___________________
A ragged, leather-bound journal, covered in oil and... blood? It exists in poor condition.
LOG DATE- 11/23/18XX
Subject 005 is responding well to tests. It appears relatively docile, unlike some of my more... energetic subjects. The enhancements have proven successful in reviving it, though the copper retina is proving to cause some difficulties. Subject 005 has a very poor sense of sight, and attempts at walking or flying always tend to end up with it crashing into a wall or candle. I shall have to continue experimenting with the retina additions. Perhaps an electrical-based prosthetic may work- I know that Francis has been attempting to come into possession of the local electrical company, though they don't appear keen on passing it on to some random Witch Doctor. Perhaps if I help him purchase it, he'd be willing to allow me to use some of the technology there.
My studies have proven successful, though I must keep them under close watch. The council is not supportive of my endeavors. They call them "inhumane" and "dangerous", to which I also agree. But is there no risk in scientific exploration? Not a soul in Passerine has any interest in pursuing any form of biology, half of the citizen population is terrified of the prospect of death, and those interested in this new brass era are in it for profit rather than the possibilities it may hold. Perhaps if I can harness both, I can try and find a middle ground between life and death- though many have attempted before, none have had the technology to fully control what they create. With a bit more experimentation with bodies, perhaps I can finally unravel what it means to die- the ghosts here are eager to learn of what I may find.
"For Lucifer's sake, if I have to read one more word of this whiny little brat's writing I may just set myself on fire," Kalypso groans, flipping through the pages in absolute, utter boredom. "Not that it'd do much, but it'd be more fun than this."
She didn't know what Kaevyre got from reading human texts, let alone stealing them. Sure, some were interesting, telling of secret affairs or confessing sins one would dare not utter, but most of what she'd been given from the wrath demon so far were utterly boring, or just written by people she wanted to strangle.
"He sounds like the men who caused my demise, come to think of it, stubborn, arrogant, and pompous," she mutters as well, tossing the diary aside with little flourish as it fell into a burst of hellfire she'd had been standing so conveniently near. ""They will never understand me,"" oh, big woop, your highness, at least you didn't burn to death in a goddamned brothel."
Entry 5000
Apparently his name is Lysander, according to what he started whining at me when he arrived. I'm sure he had a last name, but I care not about the titles of my...clients, I only truly care about how nice their despaired wails might sound when I send them to the seventh layer.
Lysander's sin of lust is quite simple, really, much less revolting then most of the men I get down here. An adulterous man, abused his own wife while cheating on her as well, apparently. Typical, but I only truly care about the adultery. The wrath circle can handle the abuse charges, though I'd personally send him to burn for a millennium in the hottest pit of hellfire myself. Perhaps I shall send that as a suggestion when I send this sorry excuse of a man to Kaevyre. She'd quite like that, I'm sure.
He's been whining for quite some time about how that wife of his deserved it, poor dear, I hope prison's suiting her nicely, it's a shame she got caught for his murder, but she did make it...rather messy, judging from the bullet wounds all over Lysander's torso. They're leaking onto my floor, too, which makes me slightly less sympathetic. These rugs are going to have to be burned and replaced, now, most likely, I don't care for cleaning the blood of abusers and cheats off my things.
I do wish he'd stop pacing, too, really, it'll tire him out if he's sent to the hellhounds, and they do love a good chase before their meal, it'd be a shame if he just laid down and took it. It's almost funny how he assumes he's just going to get out of this with zero punishment. What does he think I'm going to do? Allow him to become an incubus? That's not how Hell works, only those I truly think deserve it get that treatment, most humans get sent to the auction, and that's beyond my control to deal with, it's Lucifer's choice as to what happens to them then.
Regardless, Kaevyre should be here to pick him up within the next hour. I look forward to it, let's just hope I don't have to burn a leg off like I had to with the last one, wily bastard nearly managed to throw himself off the cliff my office rests on, and we simply cannot have that, not in Hell, no, a second death doesn't come quick to the ones that deserve torture.
"A disgusting man..." Aika sniffed as she gripped at the parchment. Too elaborate a punishment in her eyes- she would rather take it on herself. The hunt was not something she was fond of, no, she found more fulfillment in feeling the bones of her quarry snapping by her own hands. She was no sadist, but destroying what would dare stand in her way was necessary. They deserved to feel her rage. A man like that... she could bear to make him hurt.
"... and this is done in judgement?" She scoffed, "That's too much thought. Snap the man's neck and be done with it. Put his body to use elsewhere. I'd expect demons to be more productive than this. There's no point in judgement..."
She crumpled it up, and tossed it aside, now bored at the thought of it.
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I've made the 300th attempt today. The eyes do not come out right. I sharpen these tools perfectly, practice carving in skin instead of leather, but I still cannot capture it. How frustrating. They're all worthless. I cannot give Himo an imperfect carving. He is not imperfect. I cannot allow it- how worthless. Can I not do something so simple? How can I fail at something I've known my whole life? I could not bear to see him again in such a poor condition. Before I meet them again, I must correct this...
The page's margins are covered in small doodles and notes of a plan to carve a rabbit charm from leather. Many are crossed out, blotted over with ink, or rubbed off. They spill over over the words, and make it difficult to read in some places.
There is a tear punched through the page, as though a knife was plunged in.
"Someone was having a bad day." The paper was ink stained and torn, and Shai had a hard time reading it even when he pulled his flashlight closer.
"Someone is also a perfectionist like a certain blond idiot I know." He shouted into the darkness. All that hassle for a dumb little rabbit? Three hundred attempts. They had to be exaggerating. No way. "I'd go crazy too if I wasted that much time." Shai flipped the paper over but the entry seemed to have ended. Nothing useful there. He let it flutter back to the ground.
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I don't wanna tell him but I'm so fucking tired. We've been at this shit for ages and we still haven't found Gabe. Can he still be alive? I want him to be holy shit do I. I can't even tell Rafe why I really came out here because fuck me and my dumb fucking ass how do you tell a guy you wanted to kiss his brother? That you did kiss his brother way back when you were kids and it felt good? That the only reason you stuck around was because you were a selfish prick and wanted him back for yourself so you could watch him try and wear sweaters in the Arizona heat or take photos with a homemade pinhole camera? But I guess...I guess that's what keeps me going. I don't want to lose that. It's so stupid that a dumb simple moment like that could be so good and precious. You never really do know how good you got it until it's gone...For him, for Gabe, I gotta keep on moving, and if I gotta tear up a lotta shit to do it, then that's too fuckin' bad. I'll make these fucks that took him afraid of me. We'll find him and bring him home.