You're where the Wild Things are...

An in-character blog set in the universe of EVE Online. These are the private diary entries of Lady Ekaterina Mariya deSilvestris, a minor Amarrian Noble and Capsuleer. Other existing characters within EVE will be referred to throughout, though any opinions and views expressed are those of this character. These entries may touch on or directly address mature themes such as violence, sexuality, race and ethnicity, and mental health. As noted, any views are those of the character.

Before we begin, I feel it important to say a few words on the subject of mental health. Ekaterina, or Ekat as many call her, is something of a troubled soul. This aspect of her character is a personal choice I have made, for very personal reasons. Although EVE is a game in which the players can immerse themselves to a greater or lesser degree as they wish, mental health is a very real issue for many people. Those two simple words cover a myriad different issues and concerns that affect people directly or indirectly every day all, over the world.

If you find yourself affected by any issues touched upon in these posts, or if you face your own troubles, please know that there are people out there you can turn to; doctors, friends, family - there is ALWAYS someone. If you are an EVE player, then Broadcast 4 Reps chat is available, staffed by wonderfully kind and good-hearted volunteers. If you know of someone who has mental health issues, then please just let them know you are there. It doesn't have to be anything big, just a smile, a cup of tea, a quick phone call about last night's game - just a little thing to show they aren't forgotten.

You Never Fly Alone.
12-02-YC121

God Forgive me, but I should be dead.

Dead, or at least lying unconscious in medicae.  Yet I am here, writing this - a miracle I can only attribute to Her Mercy.

My anger got the better of me, again.  One vicious comment from him and my heart was filled with fury.  I barely remember fighting the drone, only that I must have overrode the safety protocols and set it to such a high skill level that I soon began to tire.  I remember the call on my Neocomm, turning my head, distracted, and the cold edge of the drone's blade parting the flesh just below my jawline.  After that, it is only a blur; swimming, unclear images, some as though I were watching from afar at the bloody, yet surreally calm scene.

The call was from Directrix Aspenstar, but I do not recall the subject about which we talked.  I stood there, I think, holding a dressing against my wound, for a full ten, perhaps fifteen minutes.  It was only after the call ended that I finally collapsed, from shock, perhaps blood loss.  These things I am told by the Doctor.  The only thing I recall clearly is a feeling that came over me a moment before I fell - a feeling of warmth, of safety, as though I were under the most resilient protection, a security that could never fail or falter.

Her

I do not even recall coming round, but by all accounts by the time I did a proper dressing had been applied to the wound.  I could not, surely, have done such a thing myself, but no-one was there with me, at least, no-one physical.  I made me way back home to Nakri, though I do not recall that journey, either.  Yet there I was when Commander Kley came to fetch me and drive me to medicae.  More Doctor's reports, no doubt.

Commander Kley informs me I have caused some concern for the Admirals.  That I should come to their attention because of this, because of foolish anger and inward rage - I fear that my time with PIE is to be short-lived.  If that is so, it is no more than I deserve, but I will find another way to serve God, serve Amarr.

Serve Her!

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