In any case, I have two more installments to my story regarding Dan/D that rely on my memory. I shall aim to deliver them both to you in short order, lest my memory of those days fade like that of the envelopes. Regardless!
After our first meeting, Dan proposed that the two of us stay together. He reasoned that he had heard no reason to ever face a monster alone. I was young; he was at least seven years my elder. He had a job; he legally owned the house. His parents were rich, and he had left for them on good terms, with a rather large sum of money, which he rarely dipped into. He thought that it would be wise to keep me from the streets, in exchange for providing him company, a guard for his house, and someone to teach.
And taught, he did. From him, I learned a reasonable amount of self-defence (not so much that I could teach it to another as easily as he had, but enough to fend off fear against an assailant), the handling of weapons, and some theory. 'Theory', in this case, translating to 'knowledge of the shared enemy'. He lurked within the many blogs at the time (for this was... eight months ago? Something like that), and learned and researched. Whereas "the archangel" was not something he had seen in any of them, Dan reasoned that it was likely to be the same source. Same being, different name. They called it "Slender Man", and he called it "the archangel". Nowadays, I know this to be wrong -- but the runaway back then? She knew nothing.
It was around this time that I chose the symbol and crafted the mask that I wore before Concordia. Mercury -- the symbol of Mercury. My reasons? They are many, but they are not for telling.
Anyhow, our system worked. For a while. Very few tried to break into Dan's house; I think I was in his company for about a month and a half, during which time I was taught, while he was in the house. While he was out, I kept watch and trained myself. A physical regime, of course; I trained myself in some mental faculties also, but to a lesser extent. I could do nothing which would mean leaving his house, of course, but you can do plenty without that privilege.
Towards the end of my time there, he seemed to spend more and more time with me. He seemed rather annoyed if I was ever not there to greet him at the door when he entered, and called my (real) name out until I responded; the longer I left it, the angrier and louder he became. One time, he almost ripped a door off it's hinges before he found me, fast asleep on his bed.
He taught me much wisdom which I hold to this day. For one, no cameras. No photos; no recordings of anything but sound. And sound should be disposed of once heard privately. Secondly, notebooks. Keep them and records of them. It helped. And a hundred other things.
Then, one night, he woke with a start during the middle of the night. I was doing push-ups in his living room, as I recall -- I saw him walk out of the door, as if in a trance. I shouted at him; he turned to me, his eyes perfectly focused at me. "I'll be back soon, [Mercury]. I have to see something for myself; I'll update ya tomorrow, 'kay?" I nodded, and closed the door as he went down his street, away from the house.
Dan died. I closed that door and he died at that very moment. D returned a week later. And then, I was reborn to the being I am now. A sharp transition, from Mercury to Achromatic Morality.
And that part of my story is for another time.
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