In this month long series, I wanted to introduce readers old and new a little more into the life of Pizzamaid.moe’s Muse and Mascot, Alisha Rue. I encourage any folks from all walks of life and games to join me if you’re looking for a creative outlet into writing, and developing your
OC a little more, regardless of game or genre. Be sure to hashtag your posts on your respected site / blog / Tumblr / Twitter with #30DaysofARPil and let me know here in the comments below or on Twitter at @Pizzamaid !
Also know that the questions compiled for this series was originally posted by Oslusiadas of Tumblr. I’d like to properly credit them for posting this.
Question 7: Is there one event or happening your character would like to erase from their past? Why?
Hmmm while I like to try and keep my answers positive and upbeat, there’s going to be some sad ones. This is one of them.
Overall in my lifetime for the most part? I’ve had a good life. You have your struggles here and there, but things could be a lot worse. Yet, if there was an event I’d like to erase from my past it would be when I lost my father, J’ohban.
Our relationship wasn’t as close as you would normally see in your typical father/daughter relationship, but we shared many moments and many memories that made us close and brought us together. A man skilled with both endurance and intellect, he was the one that taught me how to play sports activities during the day, while at night taught me how to discipline my mind and logic with repeated games of Triple Triad.
When I was informed of his illness directly from him, I didn’t worry about it; never even broke a sweat. Was it denial? Possibly. In my eyes, I saw Papa as the invincible Pugilist / Monk. In my mind? Nothing has ever brought him down, and something like illness would have little to no effect on him. As time progressed though and saw first hand the illness deteriorating his body, I increasingly grew more and more worried. True to form though, Papa wouldn’t wince when in pain and would put my mind at ease always telling me, “Don’t worry your furry brow Princess. You have to get worse in order to get better.” Perhaps it was my young age, but his words would bring me a small sense of relief albeit temporary.
It wasn’t until a few days shy of his passing that he sat all of his children down with our Mother at his side and told us that he was nearing the end of this fight. First and foremost he explained that for many suns, he would not tackle this without a fight and he did so valiantly. He then proceeded to tell us that when his time came to remember that although he would not be at our side physically, he would always watch over us and protect us. He asked to not be afraid, and remember that it’s never a lack of strength if we cry. He asked that his kits let him be in our hearts always to soothe our wounds, and may many fond memories of him be the hands that wipe away the tears from our eyes. Lastly and above all else, the best thing that ever happened to him was the moment he met their mother, and his greatest creations were the three pairs of eyes staring back at him with sadness.
He took our mother’s hand and motioned her to exit the room to speak with privately with each of us. When she left, he explained in confidence that there were specific tasks to be asked of us and instructions on what to do to take care of their mother and the clan. With tears streaming down our cheeks each kit intently listened to every word said and confirmed the promise with a solemn nod. He then ushered his oldest son over to him, whispered something into his ears, then drew him in for a close hug which what was to be the final embrace. He then did the exact same thing with Rabi, then finally with Me.
I remember feeling a heightened sense of fear in the moments before I approached Papa. It was a silent understanding that this would be the last time I would hug him and see his face before he contained himself to this room to eventually pass. Even knowing that he was ill, life never prepared me for this. Papa could see the fear in my eyes as they were welled up with tears and as I was choking back quiet sobs. He gently held my face in his hands and drew me into his arms so that I could cry into his chest. We remained like this for a few minutes until the crying subsided. Smiling warmly at his youngest, he brought my ears to his lips and whispered just a few words that I carry with me still to this day. When he finally said what needed to be said, I slowly pulled myself away gently and could only whisper the words “I love you Papa” to him. He nodded, and with a smile said, “I love you more, A’lisha. In your heart always, there I’ll be.”