Slow Descent (IC except where indicated)

I still feel mad, but thankfully not as mad as I have been. I have vented my frustrations on my home, which now looks a mess especially due to the accident with the fire...and I can't remember if all of that blood is mine.

All was quiet in both Tharnock and Tabor while I was there today. I have been visiting the Oasis of the Golden Pleasure tent for the past few days. My dear friend Rufus suggested that it might be a good place for me to relax, so I have been making the journey there. I have only seen one person there so far; an initiate. He seemed friendly but we both had other places to be...mine was at an unusual place filled with many people I did not know (OOC: the RFL as part of the doctors and nurses hour on Sunday).

I was alone in Tabor early this morning. I did not quite know where I wanted to be so I found myself a spot on the bridge and sat watching the stars, as if searching for an answer from the Priest Kings. The bridge is a good place as you can observe all arrivals and decide what course of action you should take. A man approached me from the direction of the old market (OOC: the new market place setting is fantastic!). I had spoken to the man once before though I doubt he would remember it. He seems concerned with where I sit. The first time he spoke to me when I came to Tabor, he advised me against sitting on the grass by the gate as it was not a safe place. This morning he said something similar about the bridge. Unlike the first time we spoke, I said I was not worried about my safety. He did comment on my lack of weapons, but I mentioned my trusty syringe; little does anyone know that I have been using syringes to draw off my own 'bad' blood in an attempt to ease my anguish and suffering.

The man and I spoke for a few minutes; nothing at length but the conversation had depth. He gave me some wise advice and he seemed to be a kindly person, though I doubt he would thank me for saying that about him.

I still have no idea where I am going or what I am doing; the fear is leaving me but nothing else is replacing it and I am becoming empty. Perhaps my mind has a form of Dar-Kosis rather than my body. Mentally I will waste away until I am a strange figure shuffling around markets and attempting to jab people with a needle until someone finally strikes me down. I pray to the Priest Kings that whoever does it is swift and compassionate.

May the Priest Kings favour you.