#2
I would say the awful news I received upon my return to Hollow Oak, was wholly unexpected but to be truthful my little journal (something I find myself doing less and less of) it only confirmed the sinking feelings that had started to make their home inside my gut. I had first refused to even entertain the thought, producing any excuse or explanation that would quiet my growing anxieties and placate me until the next. But now faced with the reality of Legacy’s death [This is crossed out so many times that it nearly tears a hole in the page] now permanent absence from my life I find a near constant dull ache in my chest that was not there before. Since childhood I have been more than accustomed to loss and grief, numbed to its constant place during my life but these horrible feelings are not the same. The ache they leave is more palpable than ever. I can feel the vibrations in my chest, the paranoia seeping into my bones. It has never been this demanding until now. [Several teardrops stain the page]
I am crowded by your absence—I don’t believe I’m meant to be loved. I feel like my soul is rotten. Still, there is this terrible desire to be loved. Still, there is this horror at being left behind. Oh, Legacy—my [His handwriting is very shaky here] lost Legacy I burned so long so quiet you must have wondered if I loved you back. I did, I did, I do. You were destined for me. Perhaps as a punishment. I kept thinking as I moved my things into your room, this is all inside me, this grief, and I can’t explain it, nor do I want to, to anyone. My grief is a circular staircase, and I have lost you. In another universe, I never ran from you. I stopped the resentment from entering my bones, and I learned not to argue as much. In another universe I don’t have to miss you, and you wouldn’t have lived for me in private, and in this I’m sorry. In the most selfish way possible I will not love a hero. I cannot bear to see you transformed into a statue—Instead I will love you as you were. Sometimes I forget how I got here—sometimes I forget how much I didn’t want Lesaoloth to exist. Several times I have read that love turns people soft, but I have never been more cruel. I loved figuring you out. You are so human and puzzling. You were such an odd contradiction in my life—nobody seemed to understand me or misunderstand me more than you. Yet, you were the most frequent person in my mind during my absence. During my 87 years I have never regretted something so entirely as I have my trip with Amore. I would give up every piece of information I gained in a heartbeat if not to just have you slap me across the face for my idiocy. You have left such an imprint on my heart that anyone that meets me will first have to know you to even begin to understand me.
By nature, I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable. I desire violently—I am nothing in my soul if not obsessive. Inside me, something seethes. Inside me, some feral creature claws at my ribcage, trapped. I demand unconditional love and complete freedom. That is why I am terrible. My inner self has shut itself up more and more. As though to protect itself, it has become inaccessible even to me. Despite Legacy’s request I fear I might spend the rest of my life looking back to her. Recently, my newfound loneliness and unfamiliarity with Ylva and Austia has left me with lots of time to think. I think about the circumstances that shaped me into who I am. It would be a loaded question to ask if I would go back and change anything. I don’t have an answer. The little boy inside my mind screams and begs me to say yes, go back change everything. But I am beginning to realize, I quite like who I think I am if you look past the sinkhole in my chest.
I get so eerily silent for someone going through hell. But that’s only half the truth. Inside, I am screaming so loudly I sometimes get headaches. And have no choice but to fall into the dirt and rot for awhile. I have always felt safer with dirt in my eyes. My hands are unrecognizable when they’re not stained with blood. I cannot make you understand journal. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself. It seems my life (if one could even argue that it was mine to begin with) in its sole entirety has been predetermined by the actions of Gods and otherworldly beings. Living way past my expiration date is proof enough I can carry myself through these predestined schemes. I need someone else to see that. To feel anything deranges me. To be seen feeling anything leaves me vulnerable and bare.
It is a very private feeling I have - that of melting into a perpetual nervous breakdown. I am often questioning myself what I further want to do, who I further wish to be; which parts of me, exactly, are still functioning properly. I began to draw an invisible boundary between myself and other people. No matter who I was dealing with. I maintained a set distance, carefully monitoring each person's attitude so that they wouldn't get any closer. I didn't easily swallow what other people told me. I cannot seem to contort myself back into the shape of the dutiful child I once was. I am coming unraveled. I am coming undone. I feel like neither a child nor an adult. I am a botched, failed creature, combining the worst qualities of each. All the helplessness and dependency of a child, with the cynicism and despair of an adult. My mind is broken, malformed. My body outgrew me and now I wield it clumsily, hitting others with my overgrown arms as I stumble over my own feet. I know what it means to beget monsters and to recognize in them myself. But what does it mean to be descendant of something monstrous? To still love the monster? Have I become complacent in my own misery? The events of the past few days have allowed me to better grasp the situation I now find myself in. I have made the obscene decision to do something unforgivable. I wonder how far my mother is willing to indulge me, if I agree to her demands? I don’t want to beg. That’s the horror of it for me, that I understand everything—How unlikely am I to be devastated by you if only you’d offer me forgiveness afterwards. It would certainly destroy me knowing that I could not be with you—but it would be the horrible price I’d pay knowing you’d be alive. I have done bad things. I can’t take them back, and they are part of who I am. Most of the time, they seem like the only thing I am. Who’s the real me? The monster who did these horrendous things, or the one who’s horrified by the awful things I’ve done? How many people am I? Who am I? Will I ever know? What do I want? Now, that is a much simpler question. I cannot wish to change the inevitability of the things that are beyond my control. Anathema, Apotheosis, the political circumstances of my birth. I have no choice but to accept them with as much grace as I can muster and push forward. Besides, I simply cannot wallow in my own misery anymore. I have so much to do and little time to do it.
I do not know what the future holds. I do not know if I will ever find peace, or if I am destined to carry this grief with me for the rest of my days. and yet, I find myself moving forward—not because I want to, but because I must. The world does not stop for grief, no matter how all-consuming it feels. The weight of my thoughts presses down on me like a stone, grinding me into the earth. I am a creature of contradictions, a mosaic of shattered pieces that refuse to fit together., I am the sum of my betrayals, my failures, my rage, and my longing. I am a ghost haunting the edges of my own life, watching as others move through the world with a certainty I will never possess. It reminds me of the nights I spent alone, curled up in my library, seeking solace in books that could never love me back. I think of Gaelia, of the way she looked at me as if I were something worth seeing. She saw me, not as a tool or a monster, but as a person. She saw the cracks in my facade and did not flinch. She reached out to me, not to take, but to give. Nothing could bring me greater joy than knowing she is unbelievably angry with me—proof her fondness of me has not wavered in my disappearance. I have decided I will not be a victim anymore. I will not be a tool, a means to an end. I will not be the reflection of my mother’s cruelty or my father’s greed. I will not be the monster they made me. I will be something more. I will be something worse. I will be the puppeteer, the master of my own fate. I will make them see me, not as a broken thing to be pitied, but as a force to be reckoned with. I am Lesaoloth Ansiir'th Elgg-hor'ana Dumitrenteau. I am Cicero Liao. I am Anathema. I am Apotheosis. I am the end.
Cicero's Journal Ordered oldest to newest
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#1
05 Feb 2024 05:32:15
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On The Road #1
28 Mar 2024 10:56:57
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On The Road #2
28 Mar 2024 11:08:05
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On the Road #3
01 Apr 2024 12:26:32
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On the Road #4
16 Apr 2024 09:47:25
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On the Road #5
26 Apr 2024 04:37:13
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On the Road #6
03 Sep 2024 08:54:51
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On the Road #7
07 Sep 2024 02:28:18
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Love
14 Oct 2024 04:26:49
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#2
17 Feb 2025 05:03:10
05 Feb 2024 05:32:15
28 Mar 2024 10:56:57
28 Mar 2024 11:08:05
01 Apr 2024 12:26:32
16 Apr 2024 09:47:25
26 Apr 2024 04:37:13
03 Sep 2024 08:54:51
07 Sep 2024 02:28:18
14 Oct 2024 04:26:49
17 Feb 2025 05:03:10
The major events and journals in Cicero's history, from the beginning to today.
Session 59: Strategic Relevance
12:09 am - 24.05.2025Session 56: Southern Hollow Oak
12:04 am - 24.05.2025#2
I would say the awful news I received upon my return to Hollow Oak, was wholly unexpected but to be truthful my little journal (something I find myself doing less and less of) it only confirmed the sinking feelings that had started to make their home insi...
07:11 pm - 05.03.2025#2
I would say the awful news I received upon my return to Hollow Oak, was wholly unexpected but to be truthful my little journal (something I find myself doing less and less of) it only confirmed the sinking feelings that had started to make their home insi...
05:13 pm - 17.02.2025#2
I would say the awful news I received upon my return to Hollow Oak, was wholly unexpected but to be truthful my little journal (something I find myself doing less and less of) it only confirmed the sinking feelings that had started to make their home insi...
05:07 pm - 17.02.2025Session 56: Southern Hollow Oak
12:36 am - 15.02.2025Session 55: Reasonable Crash out
12:34 am - 15.02.2025Session 55: Reasonable Crash out
01:46 am - 08.02.2025Love
Hit me. Show me I was right. All I can be is right. Wound me and show me the world is cruel. Why are you so cruel if there is so much love? Why couldn’t I have had that love? If I am not unworthy, all I have been is unlucky. Can I believe it is fa...
04:27 pm - 14.10.2024On the Road #7
[b]IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT YOU ARE AN IDIOT.[/b] How could I be so naïve? This is nothing but my own doing--the consequences of my own actions. I knew I wa...
02:48 am - 07.09.2024On the Road #6
We’ve made it here. [s]My[/strike] Cicero’s image in Eastrin has been muddled by these filthy fucking topsiders. I have worked tirelessly for this image only for it to be damaged by some masquerading fools. Killing people in the slums in my name? I do...
08:59 pm - 03.09.2024On the Road #5
I found myself wondering if it is odd I greet my journal as if it is its own being. It is something I’ve done since childhood. I never had any friends, and my only companion was Luthien and on the rarest occasions my mother. I was lonely—maybe that is...
04:40 pm - 26.04.2024The Beginning of The End.
Gods, please [i]You scream at the sky, but it’s empty. Get up. No one is coming to save you. Get up.[/i] I will stay on my knees, begging. For I am a good person. They have to see that [i]Your knees are bruised from kneeling. Get up. Your kne...
04:24 pm - 22.04.2024The Beginning of The End.
Gods, please [i]You scream at the sky, but it’s empty. Get up. No one is coming to save you. Get up.[/i] I will stay on my knees, begging. For I am a good person. They have to see that [i]Your knees are bruised from kneeling. Get up. Your kne...
04:23 pm - 22.04.2024On the Road #4
Arriving in Last Stone has brought me many pleasures—more than I’d generally admit being around Swordians again…strangely makes me calm. Anastasias uncles odd bird came to fetch us when we arrived—I had never seen an albino raven before. Nonethele...
10:01 pm - 16.04.2024Session 40: Humanoid Debris
04:32 pm - 17.02.2024Session 40: Humanoid Debris
04:32 pm - 17.02.2024#1
Vendui lotha journal, Usstan inbal naut utulaia ulu dos wun natha ves verve draeval Ol aturr ulu honglath uns'aa Usstan xun naut zhaun vel'bol ol orn xun jalamzild. Usstan desu ragar usstan xuil excess amounts d'duul'sso draeval nindolen tangin, tu'fy...
12:08 am - 06.02.2024Session 39: Live With Them
12:42 pm - 30.01.2024Session 39: Live With Them
12:42 pm - 30.01.2024Session 38
11:07 pm - 14.01.2024Session 38
11:07 pm - 14.01.2024Session 37: A Noble Dinner
05:42 pm - 08.01.2024Session 37: A Noble Dinner
05:42 pm - 08.01.2024Session 36: R&R
08:00 pm - 01.01.2024Session 36: R&R
07:58 pm - 01.01.2024Session 35
07:54 pm - 01.01.2024Session 35
07:54 pm - 01.01.2024Session 34: Into the West Wing
12:19 pm - 13.09.2023Session 34: Into the West Wing
12:19 pm - 13.09.2023Session 33: The Return to The Estate
04:49 am - 26.02.2023Session 33: The Return to The Estate
04:48 am - 26.02.2023Session 29: The Hallheart Estate
12:09 am - 27.08.2022Session 29: The Hallheart Estate
12:09 am - 27.08.2022Session 26: Broken promises attempted anew.
09:47 pm - 26.05.2022Session 26: Broken promises attempted anew.
09:59 pm - 12.05.2022Session 23: Hearts, Minds, and Sexy Bodies?!
09:42 pm - 12.05.2022Session 23: Hearts, Minds, and Sexy Bodies?!
09:42 pm - 12.05.2022Session 22: Stealing from Old Men's Homes
05:46 am - 15.01.2022Session 22: Stealing from Old Men's Homes
12:10 am - 13.01.2022Session 9: A Hero Approaches!
02:42 am - 21.12.2021Session 9: A Hero Approaches!
02:42 am - 21.12.2021Session 9: A Hero Approaches!
02:42 am - 21.12.2021Session 19: Okay, the flower festival for real this time!
08:47 pm - 03.12.2021Session 19: Okay, the flower festival for real this time!
01:15 am - 03.12.2021Session 19: Okay, the flower festival for real this time!
12:48 am - 03.12.2021Session 18: The Spring Flower Festival
04:45 pm - 20.11.2021Session 18: The Spring Flower Festival
01:40 am - 20.11.2021Session 6: Moving Foward
10:18 pm - 16.09.2021Session 6: Moving Foward
10:18 pm - 16.09.2021Session 4: Breaking it to her gently
02:25 am - 31.07.2021Session 4: Breaking it to her gently
11:07 pm - 30.07.2021man margret
12:20 am - 26.07.2021Session 3: Mourning
04:50 am - 24.07.2021Session 3: Mourning
11:33 pm - 23.07.2021sigh
02:30 am - 17.07.2021The list of amazing people following the adventures of Cicero.
Social
Birthplace
Orthae Malla Talthalra
Current Residence
Hollow Oak
Honorary & Occupational Titles
Heir to Orthae Malla Talthalra, Warden of the Black Path, Anathema, Mage Slayer
Family Ties
Cicero is the only child of the Lil Malla Ilharess of Orthae Malla Talthalra Morwen Dumitrenteau however he considers Luthien his father.
Religious Views
He was brought up as a follower of Lolth however he's abandoned these beliefs. Very recently he has begun worshipping Vhaeraun.
Speech
He speaks in a thick southern accent though sometimes it seems that the accent has completely disappeared during extreme stress a low gravely voice in its place