Indecision

From the perspective of Nightengale.

I am split in two by this mask. It is a necessary thing, for the secrets, the dark webs in which I can position myself by wearing it are invaluable; yet at the same time my immortal mind can hardly take such infuriatingly close encounters with all of them. It's... difficult. Perhaps this feeling will fade as I continue into my existence, or perhaps upon finding others - but sometimes I feel as if I -am- one of them. Other times I feel so overburdened with it that I just want to tear them apart and feast on their blood.

Patience, calm, patience.
"There is more to servitude in shadow than the Crimson Doorway can provide."

Those words ring about in my head, and still, I can't shake the feeling that I'm doing something which goes against my very being. Every time I strum, every time I speak out in song, I remember how GOOD it felt to sait the hunger. Perhaps I have yet to shake off the urgings, the naggings. Perhaps my will is not as developed as I would have liked to think. Whatever the case, this cannot go on. I must strike a balance within my own being; I have plans, I have objectives to further the Black Grasp...

Loosing myself to the red haze once more is not in those plans... but neither is assimilating with the lessar beings. In any case, I find myself drawn towards a deep sort of... silence. Perhaps contemplation will help me bring my self control to a complete fruition.