Chapter 23 Dio’s Journal - Entry 191
If my handwriting suffers in this entry, it is only because my hands are shaking. Neatness is paramount in such an important written account, so it bothers me that this is not up to my usual standards. However, this is an important entry, and I need to write it down before any details fade.
Fuck
I’m surprised I just survived that. I’m glad I was able to control myself under such duress.
The anger of a demon is not a small thing, and of the few demons I’ve met, this one clearly carries a much more immense power.
A far more immense power, in fact, than I realized until today.
I’m annoyed at myself for underestimating him.
It’s not a mistake I’ll make again. Not that I tried to make him angry, of course.
Nor do I have any reason to want to make him angry in the future.
Fuck, am I even making sense? Pull yourself together, Diogenes!
Normally, my actions, which are always taken with careful thought, are calculated to move me towards my goal. Yet somehow I erred this time. Clearly, there is some understanding I lack, something I’m blind to. That much anger over a mere girl isn’t right.
Between all the snarling and a damn solid right hook to the side of my head (that I was too shocked to defend myself against), my thoughts were and are scrambled.
I think the gist of what he told me is that Chaosta isn’t an addict.
What the fuck she is if not an addict, I don’t know.
I should recognize these things after all.
Other pieces I managed to understand from the tirade are that Chaosta is “HIS”, whatever that means, and I’m not to make any decisions about her without talking with her.
If she’s unable to make a decision about something, we are to consult with Malam.
I’m not sure why he thinks she’s able to make rational decisions, so he’s really just wasting his time.
Why? I don’t know, but I guess if he feels like marking his territory like that, I can comply.
It is not as though I have any real interest in her other than as a risk to the band.
Or as a risk to my continued sobriety, I guess.
He did agree with me that she shouldn’t be listening in on our magic practice, so at least he’s not completely without sense. Although if he’d just given me a chance to explain that last time, maybe his anger could have been reduced.
After the tirade eventually ended, he dismissed me and stayed in the office with Fem.
I didn’t much care what he wanted to talk about at that moment.
I just wanted to get out of there and get some ice on my face.
We have a fucking band event coming up. What will people think as I’m signing records, that I scrap like an immature, emotional boy?
That I’m not a skilled enough fighter to protect my face?
Now I wish I had maintained the presence of mind to listen at the door and understand what he wanted to talk to Fem about. Of course, if my head hadn’t still been spinning, I would have thought to do so. Messiness such as this isn’t like me.