So, it appears as if it was a success. Whether coincidence or not, I do not know. Before I begin, I would like to refer my readers to these two posts over at Quiet Cacophony. They are approximately correct, which is to say that I do not particularly care to point out any mistakes (although I do note that Concordia left off the part where I punched him).
Now, the question is what 'it' was. I shall, of course, digress; but first, I will note that it may be wise to consider that I had hoped to tell my story before this happened, however (there was no guarantee of this event occurring, of course). But, all the same. My apologies, by the way, for my absence; I have been undergoing what can be called severe travel difficulties as of late.
I did not call Concordia out to Cardiff purely for the purposes of having a chat. I'm not surprised he wasn't interested; he'll be plenty interested before long, I predict. Nevertheless, it was primarily a test -- one with the conclusion I was expecting. Upon inviting Concordia to my temporary (I had moved there on Friday evening, for reference) living space in Cardiff, I quickly realised that my aim had been a success; the lure of a second person had made whoever had been following me curious.
I first noticed the person about a week ago. Always out of the corner of my eye, or heard as footsteps when I froze up in an alleyway; someone who was following me, yes, but didn't know how to blend in with a crowd, how to become a faceless wanderer in a city. A dedicated stalker could easily creep into my room at night, so I have not really slept since then. I had considered simply assaulting them, but it was quite un-required in the end.
As Concordia noted (proving that he isn't as idiotic as he appears to be), I spent much of the time in the interview looking behind him. So, when I ushered him out, I did so because my stalker had peeked through the doorframe; my light-circuit meant that I had a momentary glimpse of his entire face. And it was at that precise moment that I knew their identity, and thus, I needed Concordia to leave. So, when he left, I gave it ten minutes. Concordia did not note this, but that room? It has one entrance, given that I believe it was once a section of a public urinal. It is not particularly hard to hide a weapon in the folds of a coat -- if my stalker had been foolish enough to poke his head around the doorframe again, he'd certainly be down an eye. After the ten minutes, I removed the battery from the light-circuit, and went outside. Looking around, I soon spotted the stumbling figure, presumably attracted by the vanishing light.
Despite my mask, his features were not difficult to make out. A head of brown hair -- unkempt, uncombed. A beard, caused by lack of shaving. Two bloodshot eyes, the green irises surrounded by red. A long, hooked nose. That nose said everything; it's rather distinctive, given the two jagged cuts on it.
Hello, Daniel. Or 'Dan', as you once insisted I call you. Well, I'll decline to call him 'Dan', as it would only serve to meddle with the tale I have yet to tell. I shall refer to him as 'D'.
In any case, D came at me with an almost zombie-like gait. I shifted on my feet a little; it never hurts to be ready to hurt someone. Despite this, he stopped; D looked at me, grinning. I simply stood still; there was little point in attacking him without getting an answer for anything. I'd already drawn conclusions, but. Then he spoke.
"You... you remind me of something; a memory; someone?" I render his speech as I do, because there it seems right to write it like that. Imagine each semicolon as a minute pause, as if he was rifling through a mental dictionary, hunting for the right words. His voice seemed somewhat off, too; his inflections were not like the ones I had known last year. They seemed like someone had gone to great effort to do it 'right', giving an accent that was all over the place. Each word, an island.
"I've never seen you in my life," I replied. That much is true -- I have met Dan, but I have not met D. Does that make sense to you?
"I'd beg to disagree," he said. "Take off that obscuring article; face-wear; that mask."
"I've seen your face before, though... it's familiar; nostalgic; like a longing."
"I know you've seen my face, stalker. Why did you wait until now to confront me; and who are you?"
"I am a disciple of my lord; the divine; the omnipresent," he said, which made me think of the Supremacy. Yet, I know that Dan was not his servant when I left him... have circumstances changed, then? But the slightly robotic voice suggested that my first assumption was not incorrect. "And it was only today that I felt you would meet me without charging me; attacking me; assaulting me."
I will not recount the entire conversation, for this laptop's battery runs short, and I have no outlet to plug it into -- furthermore, this here is quite long enough. All that matters is the end: in the middle of talking, he suddenly froze up, and begun laughing. In between bouts of laughter, he said this: "you know, for some time, I have felt that I am not full; unprepared; incomplete. Talking with you seems to reduce that -- you are familiar! You are a memory! Your mask -- remove it!"
He then attempted to attack me. I say 'attempted', because it was incredibly flimsy, as far as attempts go. I do not know exactly what my response was, given that self-defence is mostly instinct. It did end with me clubbing his head into a wall, however, which caused him to at least stop moving. Taking no precautions, I went back inside and rifled through my belonging, finding a small container of sleeping pills. I gave D twice the recommended dosage (to insure he was out cold, of course. No other reason at all), and then set about packing all of my belongings. It did not take very long. Of course, I also went through D's pockets, and took what I found and thought useful. I threw the rest in a bin.
Shortly after that, I left D inside my temporary home (which, I believe, was scheduled for demolition on Tuesday. He'd have woken back up by then, probably) and left Cardiff. I will not say where I am now, but I am moving once more. I cannot really afford to stay put any longer; my laxness allowed the parasite that has infected Dan to catch up to me. I cannot make the same mistake twice. It may be worth moving out of the country...
I apologise for this rather long "wall of text". It's largely lifted from my notebook, since I wrote it down when I was on the train -- given my memory lapse on Thursday 19th May, my memory is clearly not trustworthy.
2% battery. Posting this now.