it certainly makes you harder to hate

It's cold again today. The brief, isolated change had been nice but unnatural and I'm almost glad that things have gone back to normal. I don't mind the changing of the seasons but I prefer they happen gradually, not freezing one day and hot the next. It makes me nervous.

The cold doesn't really bother me much anyway. Sometimes, it's even nice and that's why I've cracked the window in my home, letting in a crisp breeze. I've already done a bit of training, cleaned up and now I'm sitting idly, television on but unwatched.

This also makes me nervous, sitting and doing nothing. I feel that I'm either missing something that needs doing or that I'm going to be caught out and punished severely. It takes reminding myself that the commandant isn't here to set my mind off of that track.

I should go out, do something but I don't know where to go or what to do so I just sit there, tapping my fingers against my knee while a movie drones on in the background. Perhaps one day I'll be able to be still and not feel like I'm doing something wrong.

I don't know what time it is when I ease myself out of bed. Raven's still asleep so I move as soundlessly as I can out of the room. I don't know what's woken me up but I don't want to disturb her after everything else I've done to cause her problems. So, I tug on a shirt and pad my way into the living room. The sun is just starting to rise and I stand in front of the window, letting the chill of the morning wake me up.

Stretching, I close my eyes and stand there, waiting for something. I don't know what. When I open my eyes, Demetrius is there in front of me. Demetrius who I buried a few months ago. Demetrius who died at my hands. He's just standing there, staring at me and the chill from the morning doesn't compare to the cold steel that's running through my veins right now.

"I'm sorry."

It's the only thing I can think to say. Demetrius is one piece though his eyes are dark, hollow. Accusing. I swallow and step forward, reaching for my friend but my hand passes right through him. It hurts more than it should. I know he is dead and I know he will continue to be dead but I can't help but wish he wasn't.

"Demetrius, please..."

Demetrius still doesn't move. He stares at me and I turn away, hiding my face in my hands and stifling any sort of strangled moan or sounds of pain that want to slip out of me. When I pull my hands away, Demetrius is gone and I'm alone.

I don't know how I feel about that.

I don't know how courtships work in this world. Bleeding skies, I don't know how courtships work period. Besides a few instances of quick rutting in a dark room, it wasn't like I'd been with many people. The last time I'd even thought about this had been with Laia and that had been a lark, a thought that I used to keep myself alive during the times the poison racked my body.

Now, the nightweed is controlled for the most part and I'm free to see who I want and to do what I want. So, I'd put aside my confusion with modern technology and actually looked up information about courtships and dating. The computer had provided me with a lot of answers. Too many actually. I'd been overwhelmed and had to take a break a few times just to get my bearings.

But, I'd cobbled something together in the end. From what I'd gathered, food was typically involved and time spent talking and perhaps doing another activity. Talking scared me a bit because there was still so much Raven didn't know about me that I was terrified to tell her. I wanted to share but I also didn't want her to know too much and see me differently.

I decided on something private because I'm not huge on crowds and I wasn't exactly sure what sort of restaurant she liked. Instead, I'd bought a small table, two chairs, some candles and a vase with a single flower and set it up on the rooftop of my apartment building. It gave an unobstructed view of the city, of the stars. The night was warm but not hot, making it easy to sit outside and not sweat. I'd never minded the armor of the Masks but right now I could see the benefit of the slacks and tee shirt combination I favored now.

The food -- the food had been a harder thing to decide on. We'd never really eaten that much around each other so I'd searched around and ended up going with what was supposedly Italian food. I had no idea what that meant but the food smelled good, the spices sharp so I'd ordered a lot of pasta, meat, and bread and picked up some wine. Again, I had no idea what the wine tasted like but the bottle had been a nice color.

Once everything is set up and put together on the roof top of Oceanview, I step back and frown at it thoughtfully. It looks okay. The moonlight gives us some light but the candles I've lit and set up around the table provide more.

It doesn't look -- I hope it's okay. If it's not, we'll just go inside and watch the television, I suppose. But, I hope it's okay. While I wait for Raven to arrive, I wander over to the edge of the roof and lean my elbows down against the ledge, watching lights dot the skyscape and watching people head home from work and come out to begin their nighttime activities.

I hope this is okay. Hopefully it's good.

I've been mostly keeping to myself since the arrival of Demetrius' body. I'd let people help me with burying him but after that, I'd disappeared. When I went out, it was at night to lessen the chance someone I knew saw me and even then, I made sure my trips were short.

Everything was such a mess. I didn't know how I was going to continue living here with what I'd done. Being back in Serra meant I could at least try and atone for what I'd done by helping Laia and Darin. But, I was here now, here with people that I'd tried not to care about (and did anyway). Separation and disconnection was the only way I could see to keep them safe.

I, of course, hadn't told them that.

The sun was just starting to set on another day of me keeping to myself inside my apartment. I'd taken to trying to use the appliances in my kitchen since I was isolating myself so much. I'd only burned a few things though one of those things had just been burned so the smell of smoke and charred food was wafting through my apartment.

I'd opened my windows, letting the warm air in and taken a seat on sofa with a book. I'd been doing this a lot recently too, trying to absorb the history of a place that had shaken me so much. I wanted to know why and what and how. The books weren't providing much but I continued on because I needed to do something to fill up the time that I now had.

I woke up this morning expecting to see the ceiling of the bedroom I'd been sleeping in for months now. I woke up expecting to be in Darrow, expecting to be alive, expecting to no longer be surrounded by other Marks or even Tribe Nur.

I woke up feeling used to this strange city that wouldn't let me go. I woke up feeling like it was less of a luxurious prison and more like a place where someone could settle, could make a life. I woke up feeling like that and immediately hated myself, hated that I'd gone so far in forgetting Laia, Tristas, Izzi, Darin, Tas, and all those that depended on me. I'd failed them and here I was, waking up in no pain to sunshine coming through my window and no screams of torture ringing in my ears.

I hadn't even had a nightmare.

It's that feeling, those emotions, that propel me out of bed. I'm angry at myself for relaxing and this place for not giving me the opportunity to go home. I'm angry because I was injured and healed, that I have no pain in my hands or anywhere else. I've been given the opportunity to recover while Darin and Tas are probably dead and Laia a captive of the Nightbringer.

Never before I have desired my scims so much. I know there's nothing that I can carve up, that I can take apart but to have the familiar weight of the steel in my hands would be a tremendous comfort to me. But, I can't have that. I won't have that again if I can't figure out my way back to Serra.

I throw open the window to my apartment, letting the chilly air in and strip off the shirt I'd gone to bed in. This apartment doesn't have the benefit of the training equipment that I'm used to but I don't want to go out with the mood I'm in. I don't want to hurt anyone.

So, I fall into calisthenics and cardio, going harder and harder and harder until I finally feel sweat dampening the back of my neck and my brain finally stutters. I don't stop there, though. I intend to re-train myself, my hands, with the fighting styles I learned at Blackcliff. I cannot let myself become too comfortable here. I cannot let myself forget what I've done.