BISHOP (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
getting_better) wrote2021-10-30 10:32 pm
getting_better) wrote2021-10-30 10:32 pm
Entry tags:
Journal Entry # 157 October 18 2031
*clearing throat*
Journal entry - uhhhhhh - one....five...six. No! Seven! Seven. Cripes. Get it together, B.
*Sighing*
Time is....O four hundred hours. Its been two days since I arrived in Belgium and parted ways with the carnies that helped me get in. I hope they make it to Germany, I wish I could have done more for them before leaving Ghent. Right now I'm on a train headed for Bruges, commercial. My safehouse here remained as I left it. I think? Water was out but, eh, I only needed the fake ID's and such. It's going to take half an hour to get there so I have a bit of time to get my thoughts down.
...
It's been a rough...what is it? Two months? - since I left Japan, and things are....weeeeeeeell - just as bad as I remember. Demons everywhere, carnage and fear, raiders and bandits too. Fun.
*Sighing*
You'd think people would put fighting each other aside by now, yeah? Ah well, world ain't perfect and I probably shouldn't be whining about it. At least those carnies were kind, though I'm sure it was because they needed an extra pair of hands - and if those hands belonged to a badass assassin, even better I'm sure.
*Bishop chuckles grimly*
...I really do hope I see them again one day. Monsieur et Mademoiselle Monet et leur fille Cécile. They were a lovely family. Lovely family. Made me think a bit about mom and pop. Monsieur Monet in particular kinda reminded me of good ol' dad.
*Long sigh followed by silence*
....I've had a lot of time to think....of dad.
*Deep inhale followed by a sigh*
Saying that....that the hurt doesn't hurt anymore would be an outright lie. It still hurts just as much...it's....
*He sniffles and clears his throat*
It's still there. Very there. Heh!.....But I can think and remember him. Dad.
...
He and I didn't speak a lot. He wasn't really for small talk. If you had something to say, or something you wanted to talk about, then say it. But! Whenever I asked him something like....how to play baseball or something, he would take me through the intricate details of the sport as best as he knew it. Of course, he loved baseball, so he knew a lot so that conversation was long. Maybe a bit too much for an eight year old though, hahaha!....Yeah.....But he sat with me, and even showed me how to hold the ball. How to catch it - we even went and bought a mitt the next day and threw the ball back and forth for a long while. That was fun. Really.
*Long pause*
Then came the conflicts and the arguments. All the anger and.....quiet resentment from me...towards him. Back then, I really hated a lot of him - mom too - but he in particular irritated with the silence he had sometimes. I had so - soooo - many reasons why I was so angry. But I can't remember any of them anymore. It-It's funny - actually - that after they died my memories feel like they've changed. Okay, not like - immediately - you know? I was very preoccupied trying to turn myself into a demon killing machine at the age of fifteen - but! - when I finally did have some downtime to really think and recollect.....my memories of them changed.
...
Well, not the memories, but - I understood. Them, I mean. The way they acted. Why they acted that way. What their reasoning was. What their intent was.....And how much of a selfish brat I was. It's like all of a sudden every single silence had ... dialogue. Meaning. And when that hit me, I remember the tears wouldn't stop.
I remember I was sitting in my quarters at the S.T.R.I.K.E base, about to head home to the apartment I shared with Queen - thinking about dad and mom like I am now - then, yeah, it hit me like a....like straight punch to the chest. My chest tightened and hurt, then I wept. Like flowing river of tears. I was so glad it was Queen who walked in and found me like that, if it was Chev he would have given me so much shit I think.
I learned so much about my dad just from my memories. The quiet determination to support me and mom, his worries and struggles - he was a hard worker. And I mean, he never stopped working. Twenty-four seven, business is always open - I remember him waking up and taking business calls in the middle of the night, or early in the morning on a Sunday. The house we lived in wasn't the greatest but, thinking about it, it was pretty fucking nice. And dad worked his ass off to make sure we kept it.
*Long silence*
I think....what hurt the most....was the realization that, after learning so much about the man just from my memories, is that I won't have the chance to learn more. .... Yeah. That's number one on the "Shit-Bishop-Regrets-Doing-Cause-He's-A-Fucking-Nimrod" list. I wish I could learn more about him, from the man himself. Hear about the things he did as a kid, or his dreams and aspirations. .... Or why he decided to have me. He never really struck me as the type to have kids but, here I am. I always thought it was just mom wanting to have one but, no. I realized that the thing he was most proud of, the thing he cherished more than anything....was me.
...I hope he's not too disappointed in me and the things I've done. ... I hope that what I'm going to be doing now will.....will make things better. Make him proud.
*Long silence followed by sniffles*
Ugh. Wow. Who knew I could tear up like this!
*Bishop clears his throat*
That's surprising! Glad to know.
*Long silence*
...I miss him. I miss mom too. All that anger I had, it was actually love just...I was just incredibly blind to it. I love them a lot. More than I could ever describe.
...
Dad. If you can hear me, wherever you are, I know I messed up. I did so many bad things, things that I know would make you so disappointed. Truth be told, I'm probably going to still do somethings that will make you frown, but unlike before - I promise you - this time it's so I can make this world a better place for people like you. For the Monet family. For the Kimura family. So that another angry and frustrated kid doesn't become another "BISHOP". I hope I can make you proud, even a little.
*Sniffle*
This is Bishop. Signing off.
Journal entry - uhhhhhh - one....five...six. No! Seven! Seven. Cripes. Get it together, B.
*Sighing*
Time is....O four hundred hours. Its been two days since I arrived in Belgium and parted ways with the carnies that helped me get in. I hope they make it to Germany, I wish I could have done more for them before leaving Ghent. Right now I'm on a train headed for Bruges, commercial. My safehouse here remained as I left it. I think? Water was out but, eh, I only needed the fake ID's and such. It's going to take half an hour to get there so I have a bit of time to get my thoughts down.
...
It's been a rough...what is it? Two months? - since I left Japan, and things are....weeeeeeeell - just as bad as I remember. Demons everywhere, carnage and fear, raiders and bandits too. Fun.
*Sighing*
You'd think people would put fighting each other aside by now, yeah? Ah well, world ain't perfect and I probably shouldn't be whining about it. At least those carnies were kind, though I'm sure it was because they needed an extra pair of hands - and if those hands belonged to a badass assassin, even better I'm sure.
*Bishop chuckles grimly*
...I really do hope I see them again one day. Monsieur et Mademoiselle Monet et leur fille Cécile. They were a lovely family. Lovely family. Made me think a bit about mom and pop. Monsieur Monet in particular kinda reminded me of good ol' dad.
*Long sigh followed by silence*
....I've had a lot of time to think....of dad.
*Deep inhale followed by a sigh*
Saying that....that the hurt doesn't hurt anymore would be an outright lie. It still hurts just as much...it's....
*He sniffles and clears his throat*
It's still there. Very there. Heh!.....But I can think and remember him. Dad.
...
He and I didn't speak a lot. He wasn't really for small talk. If you had something to say, or something you wanted to talk about, then say it. But! Whenever I asked him something like....how to play baseball or something, he would take me through the intricate details of the sport as best as he knew it. Of course, he loved baseball, so he knew a lot so that conversation was long. Maybe a bit too much for an eight year old though, hahaha!....Yeah.....But he sat with me, and even showed me how to hold the ball. How to catch it - we even went and bought a mitt the next day and threw the ball back and forth for a long while. That was fun. Really.
*Long pause*
Then came the conflicts and the arguments. All the anger and.....quiet resentment from me...towards him. Back then, I really hated a lot of him - mom too - but he in particular irritated with the silence he had sometimes. I had so - soooo - many reasons why I was so angry. But I can't remember any of them anymore. It-It's funny - actually - that after they died my memories feel like they've changed. Okay, not like - immediately - you know? I was very preoccupied trying to turn myself into a demon killing machine at the age of fifteen - but! - when I finally did have some downtime to really think and recollect.....my memories of them changed.
...
Well, not the memories, but - I understood. Them, I mean. The way they acted. Why they acted that way. What their reasoning was. What their intent was.....And how much of a selfish brat I was. It's like all of a sudden every single silence had ... dialogue. Meaning. And when that hit me, I remember the tears wouldn't stop.
I remember I was sitting in my quarters at the S.T.R.I.K.E base, about to head home to the apartment I shared with Queen - thinking about dad and mom like I am now - then, yeah, it hit me like a....like straight punch to the chest. My chest tightened and hurt, then I wept. Like flowing river of tears. I was so glad it was Queen who walked in and found me like that, if it was Chev he would have given me so much shit I think.
I learned so much about my dad just from my memories. The quiet determination to support me and mom, his worries and struggles - he was a hard worker. And I mean, he never stopped working. Twenty-four seven, business is always open - I remember him waking up and taking business calls in the middle of the night, or early in the morning on a Sunday. The house we lived in wasn't the greatest but, thinking about it, it was pretty fucking nice. And dad worked his ass off to make sure we kept it.
*Long silence*
I think....what hurt the most....was the realization that, after learning so much about the man just from my memories, is that I won't have the chance to learn more. .... Yeah. That's number one on the "Shit-Bishop-Regrets-Doing-Cause-He's-A-Fucking-Nimrod" list. I wish I could learn more about him, from the man himself. Hear about the things he did as a kid, or his dreams and aspirations. .... Or why he decided to have me. He never really struck me as the type to have kids but, here I am. I always thought it was just mom wanting to have one but, no. I realized that the thing he was most proud of, the thing he cherished more than anything....was me.
...I hope he's not too disappointed in me and the things I've done. ... I hope that what I'm going to be doing now will.....will make things better. Make him proud.
*Long silence followed by sniffles*
Ugh. Wow. Who knew I could tear up like this!
*Bishop clears his throat*
That's surprising! Glad to know.
*Long silence*
...I miss him. I miss mom too. All that anger I had, it was actually love just...I was just incredibly blind to it. I love them a lot. More than I could ever describe.
...
Dad. If you can hear me, wherever you are, I know I messed up. I did so many bad things, things that I know would make you so disappointed. Truth be told, I'm probably going to still do somethings that will make you frown, but unlike before - I promise you - this time it's so I can make this world a better place for people like you. For the Monet family. For the Kimura family. So that another angry and frustrated kid doesn't become another "BISHOP". I hope I can make you proud, even a little.
*Sniffle*
This is Bishop. Signing off.