Question Argent Diaries (See 'Silver')

Argent Diaries: Volume -illegible-
I’ve decided to start a diary as part of my ‘emotional’ self-improvement. It will probably be more of a record of events to study at a future date than an outlet, but I don’t know what the future holds. My power isn’t nearly so interesting. I learn very quickly and thoroughly, and I have an amazing poker face. I can fake it until I make it. Heh. That is an amusing way to put it. Next time someone asks, that’s what I’ll tell them.


Nov-20-2006
Today is the first day of Thanksgiving break. I am on my way home to see my family … and Mithras, of course. I am sure he will be glad to see me, no matter how much my appearance has changed. My parents are another matter. I have neglected to tell them the exact frequency at which I have had to get medical attention for exhaustion this semester. I think I will continue to avoid the topic as much as necessary. They worry too much. If I needed sleep that badly, I would be sleeping. I’d much rather be passing my classes.
It seems as though my time allotment for this entry has expired. I will use the rest of the bus ride home to catch up on some textbook reading.

As I predicted, my parents and Mithras were waiting for me at the stop. I thought it was a bit funny how they didn’t seem to recognize me until I stopped smiling at them. Note to self - parents and friends do not need to be treated to the Stepford Smiler routine. It’s hard to break the habit, though. I had to check myself constantly on the drive back because the fake smile kept creeping back.
Mithras had some VERY interesting news to share. Apparently, he has decided to embrace his family heritage and study magic. The chances of him going to Whateley have gone up significantly, but something extreme is going to have to happen. I don’t recall any baseline magicians in any of my magic classes. Admittedly, I may not have asked.
My parents seemed a little shocked at my appearance. I had to press them a bit, but they eventually told me that my face was almost an exact match for my cousin’s when she was staying at our house ten years ago. If I’m right about my BIT, I hope I still have at least a year before my body follows suit. The idea of major lifestyle changes doesn’t sit well with my plans for the future.
We dropped Mithras off at his house. He is going to be studying with a tutor for the rest of break. I offered to help, but apparently to be a MAGIC tutor, you need to be an experienced user yourself. It makes sense. I guess.
That’s all for today. I’ll update tomorrow on the status of food and relatives.




Nov-23-2006
There wasn’t anything of real worth to write about until today (Thanksgiving). I talked a bit (as little as possible) with my parents, nothing meaningful. I got a lot of studying done. I think I have a good handle on intermediate Calculus now. I’ll have to do some practice problems to check. In fact, I think it would be worth my time to convert some of my ‘write my feelings’ time to ‘practice important skills’ time.

It turns out that I do (as expected), have a good handle on the Calculus topics in the book. Unfortunately the book was incomplete in the information it provided, so I had to spend a lot of time on the Internet filling in the gaps in my knowledge. I’ll take some time tomorrow to finish that task. For now, I’ll just record the events of today’s Thanksgiving Supper. It was a supper, because the meal took place at 3 pm. Late for a lunch, early for a dinner. Unless dinner is the one that can be had earlier. I don’t particularly care which is which. REGARDLESS, I have been trying to cut down on distracting myself, which is what usually leads me to staying up ‘too late’ learning valuable information not covered in my textbooks. That was a digression. The topic was supposed to be dinner (or supper?) We had the usual: obligatory turkey (a lot of it. I think they were sending a subtle message about my sleep habits), potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes (in a casserole), cranberries if various states, and tiresome small talk, which I neglected to participate in.
The only high point was that we didn’t have any extended family over. I wasn’t looking forward to having to put up a front where my parents could see. They might be fooled by it and think I had overcome something.
I think I may be slightly more aware of others now, because I think I noticed that my parents found my silence to be awkward. They didn’t make any motions to break it, though. I’m glad they respect my space. I may give them a vague ‘thank you’ at some point. To let them know I care, even just a little bit.
I’ll only admit here, to myself, that I still feel the apathy from before. I tell people that I’m over it, but all I’ve done is gained a single overwhelming desire, to make myself the best I can be. That might be enough, but when it comes to feeling anything for someone, my limits seem too close.













Nov-24-2006
It’s so late (early), and I need to write this out of my head. If my parents decided to walk into my bedroom right now, I don’t believe I could act calm for them. They’d better not walk in while I’m writing. I need stability right now.
What happened, as objectively as I can put it:
I was asleep, a little deeper than usual. Possibly due to being home, and possibly due to the immediate lack of reading material. I was dreaming of silver, a giant pool of it. My face appeared in the silver. I thought it was my reflection, until the face extruded from the surface, and rose in a column. The silver pouring off took shape, revealing a woman. In the dream, I realized that this wasn’t a reflection of me. I was the silver, and this was the mold I was being poured into. It wasn’t until I began to consider the applicability of metaphors to dreams that I knew I was lucid dreaming. The silver form smirked at me. ‘Lucid dreaming?’
I woke up then, and the woman from my dream was in the room. She wore a dark suit of mottled blues, which I recognized as a superhero costume. I thought it was a superhero costume. This was my cousin, from my childhood, who was my first role model, before I started on my medication. Seeing her in person, here, I can’t believe I ever forgot her. It may have had something to do with the drugs. I can use them as the excuse for most of my current problems. She glanced around, looked back at me. Commented on the emptiness of the room. Something along the lines of “What, don’t you live here?” I was oddly awake for just waking, but still I couldn’t speak. I was almost reverent. I nodded.
“As quiet as ever, huh, Charcoal. You emerge or something, or is that just the look you’re going for now?” She glanced between the window and my face several times while talking. She leaned in really close, and I held my breath.
“That is really freaking weird, like you’re my twin or something” she leaned back. I breathed.
“I guess you still have that old hero-crush on me then. Well,” she drew out the last word, which caused a dark feeling to appear at the edges of my vision. She smirked.
“I don’t think you heard, but I quit the whole hero thing a while back. Found it much more satisfying to fight my enemies without everyone watching. And I use the term ‘fight’ loosely.”
Her mouth turned up at the corners, her teeth exposed in what seemed to be a smile. Her eyes opened wider, and tilted her head so shadows fell across it in a vaguely unsettling manner. She was watching my face. She was looking for something.
“I guess you could call me a bounty hunter, or a mercenary. It pays better than just fighting criminals, and if I’m careful not to leave evidence, it’s safer too. The best part of it is that it lets me do anything I want, as long as I finish the job.”
I didn’t really get it, or I did and was trying not to. I was experiencing some serious tunnel vision. She took up everything I could see, but everything was dark. I couldn’t even pull myself together because she was busy trying to tear me apart.
“Hey Charcoal. You are becoming me. I think you feel the same way I do. You could kill someone, and go about your business. Who knows? You might like it. I’d be willing to show you the ropes… if you want.”
I had stopped breathing, my vision entirely black. I took a shuddering breath.
“Why… how are you in my room?”
“Ah. It speaks. I guess you could say I used you as a quick getaway. My latest target had some kind of alarm ready. I barely managed to latch onto you and get out of there before she could attack, but she got a good look at me. I’d say with her abilities, she has a lock on me and is already on her way. If you don’t want to get in the crossfire, I’d suggest letting me leave to set some traps.”
She closed her eyes. Reached out with one hand, like she was grasping someone’s head. She disappeared.
That was when I started to freak out, which isn’t really my usual reaction to surprising news. Mostly I’m trying not to scream.
AAAAAAA-
It looks like written screaming is NOT a suitable substitute for the real thing.
I screamed in a pillow, but it still sounded pretty loud. I hope my parents didn’t hear.
Did my parents know? Is that why they were so tightlipped about her? All I know is she was the one who got me working myself to exhaustion as a 5-year-old. Was that on purpose? She seemed downright sadistic just now. How could I possibly have thought she was an ideal ANYTHING? It doesn’t help that she was right about some things. It makes it worse. My head hurts and it is difficult to breathe. I’m feeling cumulatively more shame and disgust and hate than I ever felt when I was recovering from my apathy meds. Writing doesn’t make me feel better, it just makes me dwell on these thoughts. I want her gone. I mean, permanently. She could just show up in my sleep anytime, and that possibility just makes me scared, because I have no idea what she is capable of. What the hell is WRONG WITH HER that isn’t wrong with me? I don’t want to hurt anyone. At least, not yet. NO. I’m going to sleep. If I write anymore I won’t be able to forget this mess.
























Nov-25-2006
Everything is fine. Yesterday I was feeling a little sick, so my parents took me to our family doctor. He said it was only stress, and recommended trying to take it easy. I really don’t think I will, ha ha. I’m going back to school today. I felt that Mithras should stick to his studying and not be distracted by me, so I didn’t tell him when I was leaving. As the bus pulled away, I saw that somehow he had still managed to be there in time to wave goodbye. I lifted a hand to the window and looked away. That can suffice as a wave for now.
I think I will reread my textbooks on the way back. Who wants time alone with their thoughts? Not me, ha ha.











___ I thought I wouldn’t be using this diary again. I’ve been having these dreams. Recurring nightmares. I kept forgetting what was happening so I decided to wake myself up a little early with an alarm and do a dream diary. Here’s what I remember.

I’m studying, or practicing something. It is dark in the room, even though the lights are on. Nobody is in the room with me. I look at my work, and see the faces of the people I work with, go to class with. I am sitting in my chair facing them all, and it isn’t my room anymore. There is a familiar voice behind me, and I’m scared. I can tell there is a gun pointed at my head. Then, she hands me the gun. Tells me to shoot the people in front of me. And I do. Then she turns me around and all I see is her leering face. She says ‘You don’t care.’ Then she disappears, leaving me with the bodies and the gun.

What an odd dream. The fact that it is recurring suggests that my subconscious is trying to tell me something. I wonder what. There isn’t anything wrong with me. I’m doing just fine.











___ I’ve noticed that lately, in my aikido class, I’ve been having some trouble holding back. Usually I would restrict myself to a specific set of techniques, to make the practice more effective. I learn faster when I focus on one thing at a time. But earlier today, I was practicing some throws, when I got this odd urge to punch my opponent in the face. It was right when she was getting up from where I’d pinned her down. She gave me that look, the one people usually have when they’ve been around me too long. Maybe they don’t like my smile. And I just wanted to smack the look off of her face. My arm even twitched back, but I turned the motion into tucking some hair behind my ear. It is really weird. I should have more self-control than that. Why would I… It was probably just a little mistake. Nothing came of it. I’m fine, she’s fine. In fact, she’d be fine even if I did hit her. It’s probably nothing and I should really not be worrying.






___ I got in a little bit of trouble today. Walking down the hall to my workshop class, a student stopped me said and something about bumping into him, needing to apologize. Honestly, I didn’t remember the event he was talking about. I told him as much. He got very upset, and began to spew empty threats. I tried to let my smile settle things like it usually does, but today it seemed thinner than usual, more in tune with my aggravation at being late. It said some pretty well-worded threats right back at him. And by well-worded, I mean fairly descriptive and off-putting. When I realized what I was saying, I remembered that I had a class to get to and put some distance between me and my aggressor slash victim. Then, I was told to go talk to some counselor-type person later. Great. Just what I need, more people trying to open up my ‘emotions’. I don’t need that, really. I just need to be better at everything, and then I’ll be able to make up for all my mistakes. And to do that, I need to focus. Emotions will just get in the way. I especially don’t like how the counselor they sent me to kept telling me it was okay to relax, like I could possibly relax with someone who hadn’t earned my trust. Her name was Dr. Haze. Maybe it was spelled some other way. I wasn’t paying very much attention, because she was stretching my smile to its limits. Metaphorically speaking.
Anyways, that’s done. I’ve been more tired than usual, and I don’t have very much work to do at the moment, so I may try to get an extra hour of sleep tonight.







___ I had the dream again. This time, I think I know who the person behind me was. It was my cousin. In hindsight, it should have been obvious, but I’ve been having trouble thinking straight, and I feeling pissed off all the time. It’s been seriously hurting my practice. Anyways, the dream played out about the same, only this time the people in front of me were my parents. I didn’t want to shoot them, but my cousin just spun me around and shot me over and over until I woke up. It hurt more than I think any simple dream should. I think i might look into things that can mess with dreams. When I get the time, that is. Finals are coming.








___ So, combat finals are next week. It’s a good thing I already have a costume made. I remembered to thank my roommate for reinforcing it. He seemed surprised. What, does he think I’m impolite or something?
I’ve had a few more talks with the counselor. Maybe she isn’t all that bad. She seemed almost eager to help me try to understand my dreams, but wasn’t very successful. Maybe she’s lacking context.
On a separate note, my dreams have been getting worse. My cousin seems very adamant about making me shoot people close to me, the ones I know, but I don’t do it. She has shot me so many times I’m almost certain I have gunshot wounds, but there is no physical injury on my body, despite the pain. I almost wish for the times she shoots me in the head, because then I wake up immediately with only a headache. If she shoots me in the stomach I wake up like normal, but the pain is the worst. Just … so awful I’m almost convinced I should have shot those people, if it would mean not feeling the pain myself.
I have to keep telling myself I’ve drawn a line I won’t cross.
Maybe I’ll tell some of this to Dr. Hayes at our next appointment, after the first week of combat finals.






____ First day of Combat finals. It has been very educational. I took some notes in a separate notebook. I spent all morning gathering up all of the holdouts I’ve been working on, but my name wasn’t called. What am I supposed to do with all these explosives and weighted knives just sitting around watching other people fight over some tower thing? …. Obviously, I do nothing. Weird, while I was writing that I zoned out a bit, thinking about… never mind. I’m totally fine. Looking back, I can tell I was really muddled for a bit, but after counseling, I am back to normal. No problems here.
I thought of some interesting ways to use some of my other holdouts though. I’ll add them to my inventory for tomorrow. I don’t know if I’m excited or nervous that I might have to fight someone for real in less than 24 hours.
I think I’ll try and get a lot of sleep.



___ Morning write: Why did the dream decide to escalate tonight of all nights. I thought I was pretty collected just yesterday but…. The dream got worse. Like, way worse.
This time I had no control over myself. Something was moving me, MAKING me run through a destroyed city, placing explosives on random surfaces, cutting people down, blasting through walls… it was a war zone - no, more like I was the only one fighting, but it felt like enemies were everywhere. And at the end, I looked back, and there was my cousin, watching with approval.
I almost expected to see blood on my face and hands when i went to wash up, that’s how bad it was. I have to get ready now. Maybe reorganizing my holdouts to be less … explosive will calm me down. Maybe I’ll get out that old gauntlet that I never got around to using.

Evening write: I visited the counselor after the fights ended. I was having flashbacks to my dream, so it was difficult to pay attention or get anything out of other people’s finals. I asked for some medicine to help me sleep, and explained about the dreams. She first asked why I wasn’t calling them nightmares. That stopped me for a solid minute. Then I just deflected a little and asked again. She reluctantly agreed, but urged me not to rely on the medicine because I would probably develop an immunity very quickly, given my history.
I’m taking the medicine right now. A few inconspicuous white pills, some water, and I should have some nice, peaceful sleep. I hope.





___ I was wrong. The dream - nightmare - was back in full force tonight, and this time it actually had me shaking and crying in my sleep. Then Straps woke me up. I really should thank him more often. He’s a very accommodating roommate, given my behavior.
This dre- nightmare was a continuation of yesterday’s war, only this time, as I was running around being destructive, I recognized the faces of the dead and dying in my wake. I couldn’t stop, until I came to a wall, a sealed alley. I turned to run out the other way, but a crowd of people blocked me. Without hesitation, I pulled out a grenade and threw it. But then, I noticed, pushing their way to the front of the crowd, were Mithras and my parents. And I tried to run to them, to save them. And I felt the gun at the back of my head, freezing me in place. I could only watch as the grenade landed at the feet of those closest to me. I was intensely relieved when I realized that I hadn’t pulled the pin out of that grenade before throwing it. And that is when it exploded. I felt the heat and pressure was over me, and that is when I woke up to Straps shaking me.
I decided to leave almost all of my holdouts behind. I dug through the suitcase under my bed and took out the gauntlet instead. It seemed to glow silver, light pouring over its curves, its taloned fingers. I put it in my bag and got ready for the day’s finals. I could only hope I wasn’t called. I was feeling numb, but my face felt raw as I pulled up a smile as I usually did. Like it wasn’t fitting anymore. I’m so messed up right now. I don’t know what I’ll end up doing if I have to fight someone.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++end of diary++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Charon, Char to everybody (no exceptions), looked up at the screen. His own face looked back at him, from his MMID. It displayed his codename, Argent, and his abilities. Low level Exemplar, limited paragon. No group affiliation, no known techniques. He had been careful not to reveal his hand, so to speak.
He looked at the other screen, that displayed his opponents MMID, with an overview on their abilities. A slightly higher level Exemplar, and a package psychic. The rest blurred as he tried to focus on it. He blinked hard and tried to shake the clouds away. His prospects in this match weren’t looking very good. His mind felt clearer by the time he made his way to the starting area. He remembered to pull on his shiny silver gauntlet. Its glow seemed to permeate his vision when he looked at it, so he averted his eyes.
At the signal, he sprinted for the center, throwing away any caution regarding his opponent. He darted with ease around the people in his way, who sometimes turned back at him in vague simulated annoyance. As the spindle came into view, he saw no sign of the student whose MMID was previously displayed on screen. Thinking back, he wasn’t sure what to look for. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the picture, or even the name. He ignored these useless thoughts and pulled some devices out of his bag, to throw them at the side of the spindle. They clung to the surface and faded from sight. Glancing around, he was satisfied he hadn’t been seen, and sat against the opposite side of the structure.
As a conspicuous figure came into view, Argent slowly rose to his feet, an odd smile on his face as usual. The figure, a girl, appeared to be a higher-level Exemplar than Argent himself, judging by her appearance. As she noticed her competition she was on guard. Argent thought she looked like she knew what she was doing. He knew she was a psychic, so he drew his mask tighter around his mind to try and hide his plans from her prying telepathy. He began an oddly casual conversation with her, as a distraction from his fake mental state.
“Hello, I’m Argent. It’s nice to meet you, though the circumstances aren’t very favorable.”
Maybe casual isn’t the right word to describe it.
“I’m not feeling very well at the moment, so you can go right ahead. I won’t stop you.”
He could feel her probing thoughts penetrate deeper into his barrier. He pulled himself into a smaller mental space, and expanded the mask. The spikes seemed unperturbed by this, and one of them managed to skim his true surface thoughts. Instantly the spikes recoiled, the girl grabbed her head and staggered back a few steps.
She had just experienced the mental equivalent of digging for television cables and hitting a sewage pipe. The rush of raw anger, fear, disgust, and a host of other negative emotions rushed through the spike and pounded against her her own mental walls. When she tried to find a way back in more cautiously, she found the bluff to be seamless, with no distinguishable center. She decided not to trust Argent’s words, opting to subdue him before trying the spindle.
Argent was obviously not in prime condition. When his mask was penetrated, he found it difficult to determine where exactly it stopped and his own mind began. The crossflow of thoughts was so disorienting he surrendered control to the persona he usually allowed only to speak for him. This new and improved Argent smiled genuinely for the first time, and deftly moved aside as the girl closed in for what seemed to be an easy knock-out. As she passed, he twisted one arm behind her back and used a knee to pin her against the spindle.
“You don’t want to make a deal? Don’t tell me you can’t trust me - “
Unphazed by being pinned against the wall, the girl jabbed a mini Taser into Argent’s arm, following up by heaving him into the air, to land about ten feet away. His vision darkened, but he managed to stand. Through blurry half-closed eyes, he saw her approach more cautiously. He swayed on his feet, and for an instant he was back in his nightmare, and she was the figure who always watched his violence and spurred him on. This time, the figure seemed to be saying something different. If he strained his hearing, he could barely make out the words.
Char’s eyes widened. His mask became as the air he was breathing in gasps now, as though his brain needed more oxygen for the work it was doing. Twice-, and thrice- blocked memories came sliding to the front of his mind as he lost his usually tight grip on his thoughts.
“I don’t want this any more,” he tried to say, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. “I just wanted to get better.” He shuddered, a small shiver that resonated into a disquieting full body shake. She rushed towards him, like a predator at the first sign of weakness. Char stood his ground, because he couldn’t move his legs. He felt sluggish, like he was underwater. To his surprise, the figure attacking him had slowed to a crawl as well. He watched carefully as she pulled in close, able to see her face up close for the first time. Something felt off, he decided as her fist crept towards his jaw, then proceeded to push it steadily to one side. This wasn’t the same person that he had seen in his bedroom that night.
“That’s me,“ he thought. “But … as a girl? What is this, future me? ... No. No no no, and no freaking way. I thought I had already established that I’m not ending up like my cousin.” He took a step back to avoid a second fist to the jaw. “I refuse to be the kind of sadistic freak who’d just... “ his thoughts were cut off by a sudden and unnatural swell of rage. He lashed out with his gauntleted left hand, striking the guard of the figure in front of him. His fist continued, pushing the guarding hand into the face it was supposed to protect. Leaning into the punch, he applied as much pressure as possible until he could no longer reach far enough from where he stood. He let out all of his breath in a hiss and blinked hard.
Argent looked around. The surrounding buildings were intact. The girl he had just punched in the face stumbled back, and through his anger he knew the bizarre dream hallucination was no longer in effect. The rush of emotion prevented him from using his usual mask, but a sharklike grin had spread across his face in its place. He took a single step forwards, and fell to the ground, twitching.
Not one to give up easily, he attempted to pry himself off the concrete. It proved to be quite difficult, because every few seconds he would lose control of a limb and lose his balance. His opponent, thoroughly fed up with his crap, walked into the spindle and started entering her information. Argent renewed his efforts to stand, though his efforts only seemed to aggravate his state. The gong sounded, and the devices he had attached to the spindle were activated, creating a powerful sonic pulse inside it. Inside, the girl slumped where she stood. Outside, Argent went into burnout. The last thing he saw was his nightmare-self’s face, hovering over him. It grinned, and her mouth was ringed with small, razor sharp teeth. A flicker, and monster took her place, with dark gray skin and pitch black eyes. The smile was the same. The eyes expanded so he couldn’t see anything else. And everything was black.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Argent diary: renewed

___ My combat final was a complete disaster, and I refuse to write anything about it.
In other news, I’m waking up in a hospital for what is probably the 4th time this semester. I’ve gotten used to seeing some changes in the mirror in these situations, but this one just… it takes the cake. That’s probably why they didn’t let me see my reflection until after I learned how badly I didn’t actually fail my combat final. Apparently, they liked how I managed to put up a decent fight against someone more powerful. I got a C+. They do NOT like it when you have a mental breakdown and a burnout in the middle of a match. Poor form, I guess. As if I didn’t know that alread- wait. I wasn’t going to say how my final went. This is why I shouldn’t write in pen. After that pleasant visit, I was allowed to see what I had predicted would be just another step towards twinning with my evil cousin. Apparently not, because now I look like some kind of gargoyle, only not made of stone. I have the gray skin, talon-fingers that can’t hold a pen, inkwell eyes, and little pointy teeth that will never be good for chewing anything. On the bright side, my silver irises really stand out against the black, and I probably don’t have to worry about the cousin thing. Honestly, I was relieved when I realized that.
If I’ve learned anything from this, it’s way better to remember something and work it out quickly than it is to forget it and start having evil nightmares. Because, obviously, evil nightmares are bad for productivity.

I guess I’ll keep writing stuff in here. I’ll be leaving pretty soon, because I wasn’t actually hurt or anything. They keep saying I need to rest, but I have some serious studying to do, if I want to pass all of my exams with perfect scores.