Diary of a Demon - Viveka

[Viveka]

The journal is very old, the binding broken from wear. It is a rustic brown color with a lighter beige inlay. The inside over has an inscription in blood which reads "To Viveka-my favored daughter. Yours, Darkness" The pages are numerous, of faded parchment. There is a bookmark written in the same handwriting as the inside note that reads: "Secrets are yours to bear, write only what you wish to share."

Though the journal appears to be ancient, the journal entries are very recent

The owner of this journal carries it on her person at all times. It is not sealed.

[Viveka]

The last day of the 1st month

I have grown accustomed to the sights and sounds of Umbra. I am getting a sense of something similar to family here in these darkened lands. My little imp, Skreejig, rarely leaves my shoulder. He is a comfort to me and a constant source of entertainment.

The other demon, Layre, while a succubus, has been accepting of my intrusion upon her home.

Lord Alcanter hasn't asked much of me. I think he likes knowing that I can slip between Night and Waking and has turned the possibilities of my ability over in his head. I could be useful to him.

The vampire Lauranna has not spoken with me much. She seems a quiet, inquisitive sort.

The fallen knight, Kaylor, is having difficulty controlling his emotions. I envy him the need to have something to control. With compassion being the only emotion bestowed upon me, it is rather discomforting to watch someone rage, knowing I cannot.

Which brings me to my discussion with Lord Arakad Thorn. It happened upon conversation that he may be able to help me obtain emotions. Not true emotions, but echoed ones. I have never explored this avenue before. I may not need to rely on his assistance. I've peered into the minds of others in order to manifest as a familiar face. Perhaps I can pull out their emotions as well?

This gives me much to think on... and I see a journey in my future to test this hypothesis.

[Viveka]

The fourth day of the second month

Idiot of a blackrock-throwing-at-someone-smaller-than-you-are prick. He could have really hurt my imp!

Though I have some questions for the winged devil myself. How did he find out my TRUE NAME?

How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How?
How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How?
*this continues for another page*

Our time at the opening of the tavern was cut short. It was quiet, save for the rock chucking ass. It was pleasant to see most of those gathered. At least it was nice to see the ones I refer to as family.

*there are random demeaning words scribbled here* Throwing a rock??