|
|
Monday, September 24th, 2007
| |
11:54 pm - Good Night - OOC Post
|
This will be my final post in this LJ.
Those who I think should have my other two chars' LJs have it.
My character is slated to be killed, so I am retiring the character. Normally I would not mind a good death, but this has already been strung out for 2 months. This is not a good death, this is a lame death.
In my mind, I believe I will remember her 'death' being when she was at Felipe's, and she stood for her Faith. That was a good death.
I changed my mind as well. I don't think I will share any OOC truths. Too much time has passed for things to end with a climax or for there to be any continuity of story. The story I sacrificed my character for, to provide for y'all. I hope you enjoyed it.
Good night.
|
|
|
| Thursday, September 20th, 2007
| |
7:07 am - Out of Commission - OOC Post
|
Other than email, I will be out of commission for a week or two.
Probably not going to check such things as IC LJ, and will sporadic, at best, in IRC. Possibly non existant.
Not going into it here.
|
|
|
| Sunday, September 16th, 2007
| |
9:41 pm - Still Praying
|
"Blessed God of the Heavens, give me the strength to endure. Like your perfect blade, under heat and pressure, so too will I become your weapon, your holy preditor. Give me endurance, that is all I ask"
"Blessed Ishtar, friend and foe, take from me that which the Fathers would not. As they have witheld the ritual bloodletting to remove the sacred knowledges of you, I implore you take such knowledges from me by thine own hand. Sacred Whore, this is my rebirth!"
|
|
(2 comments | comment on this)
|
| Tuesday, September 11th, 2007
| |
9:46 pm - A Prayer
|
"Ishtar,
I know you know my heart. I do not know why you still continue to bless me with your gifts, for I know I am not worthy of them. I do not believe my path lies with you, and you know this. Yet, you still claim me as your Whore. Your lessons must be complete now, as I have received judgement and punishment.
I implore you, Goddess of Goddesses, to remove your gifts from my heart and mind. I supplicate to you, Friend and Foe, to consider me unworthy of the knowledges and secrets of blood and sacrifice. Take from me your Cruac. Take from me your sacred knowledges, not only so my heart may be free, but so that your sacred knowledges are no longer corrupt.
Pleeeeaase."
Her mind whispers a prayer of supplication, one last request of Ishtar. She repeats variances of this prayer and request over and over again, until she is able to feel the blood magicks leave her heart and mind, lost in the fog and confusion of torpor, and in a prayer's request.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
10:41 am - Chicken Soup for the Soul
|
There's a little black spot on the sun today
That's my soul up there
It's the same old thing as yesterday
That's my soul up there
"Bless me Father, for I have sinned," She whispered in Magyarol, in rusty memory of a religion long since left behind. Bishop Szilvas took her hands in hers, and smiled gently, as a father would to a child.
There's a black hat caught in a high tree top
That's my soul up there
There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop
That's my soul up there
"Is this your first Confession in a Sanctified church?" He asked with wisdom.
"Yes. I...obviously cannot go to a mortal confessional. There are things they cannot hear." Her voice trembled despite herself, as she realized how trepid she was to face the Darkness, even in Confessional.
"Tell me, childe, where have you strayed from the purpose God has for us?"
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain
She took a deep breath, and began.
There's a fossil that's trapped in a high cliff wall
That's my soul up there
There's a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall
That's my soul up there
There's a blue whale beached by a springtide's ebb
That's my soul up there
There's a butterfly trapped in a spider's web
That's my soul up there
She began to tell him of her early time, the first years of her release from her Sire in Austin. It began innocently. She would seduce for food, and pleasure. Then, she began to experiment with contemporary views of beauty. She would use the mortals for her art. Sometimes she would carve their backs. Sometimes she would experiment on the actual physique. Sometimes she would experiment with pain. It was when she began to experiment with pain and reaction to it, that she noticed for the first time a mortal's eyes at the brink of death.
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain
Their eyes, in the moments of their death, held a beauty she could find no where else. There was a truth to it, a purity, she could not find in this dark existence.
As she told this to the Bishop Szilvas, her eyes slid back to him, gauging his reactions as she told him. She expected him to be shocked and judge her then. Instead, he kept her hands in his, acknowledging her words, and asking the right questions to get more information from her.
There's a king on a throne with his eyes torn out
There's a blind man looking for a shadow of doubt
There's a rich man sleeping on a golden bed
There's a skeleton choking on a crust of bread
She was afraid. She was falling to the Beast. She was falling quickly, especially with how young she was. She felt she could not control it. To her, a creature of Faith, Confession was a last effort to put her hands out and stop this freefall into blood, madness, and lack of control. She knew that her madness began from this time of the Darkness. She knew that it began with her art, and her fascination with mortals and death. Her Circle could not help her. She had been seeking a stop to the madness for some time. Instead, the rituals seemed to make her fall faster. Her hands were covered with blood, innocent and not. No, her Circle could not help her. But to touch her mortal, she returned to a dark manifestation of her mortal faith.
There's a red fox torn by a huntsman's pack
That's my soul up there
There's a black winged gull with a broken back
That's my soul up there
Bishop Szilvas directed her art to vampires, as they do not die from her experiments. He waited until she was done, and then performed a dark miracle on her. A miracle that touched on her starving mortal, bringing her to the surface for the first time since the Darkness. Sarafim . She had forgotten her full mortal name. But as her vision manifested in the form of her, standing in the field with her camp around her, horses whineying nearby, and the sun on her face, she heard her Nana call her. Very clearly, "Sarafim!" Nana!
There's a little black spot on the sun today
It's the same old thing as yesterday
When she came from her vision, the crystal was dust in her hand, and blood tears were on her cheeks. She smiled at Bishop Szilvas, a peace washing over her for the first time in years. The madness had left her. She did not hear the voices in her ears any longer as they prayed together to the God of the Heavens.
I have stood here before in the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I always thought you could end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain...
She did not know what she must do now. She did not know why the God of the Heavens blessed her when she was Ishtar's whore. But she knew this peace, knowing exactly that she was where she needed to be.
This was the rebirth of Sarafim. What do I do now? She struggled with herself in the cell that she stayed at in the Cathedral. Nothing would be the same. She knew, even then, her journey had just begun. It was not an ending, but a beginning.
I'll always be king of pain....
|
|
(2 comments | comment on this)
|
| Sunday, September 9th, 2007
| |
3:17 pm - Just a friendly game of cards
|
Sarafim was on the floor, playing cards with the Good Doctor. Of course, the more obvious bet was the apparel wearing, but the bet underneath was what really counted. Another form of danse, seeing what was underneath, not only of the flesh, but the soul.
That was when this all started. This was when I questioned things.
Luk spoke to her in Russian, but it was not the same in her dream as it had originally gone.
"The key is never as obvious as one would believe it." He said cryptically.
Sarafim pauses in her cards, looking over them, "What do you mean?"
Luk smiled, and said, "The path to hell is paved with good intentions. And, ...it is your turn."
She laid down the cards, and they were all aces. "I win." She smirked.
"No, Sara. I won." Luk gave a mischievious smirk.
"I believe you will be removing your shirt now, unless you wish to give me that silk lab coat permanently. Though I hardly see how you won."
"Sara, do you not understand what happened?"
Sarafim considered it, and the truth was made clear. He saw a part of her soul which none had seen since the Darkness. Though Dre thought he saw something, it was just a flicker of the light of a soul. Not only did Luk see it, he drew it out of her.
She furrowed her brow and sat up fully, pulling back in her half nakid state. "How did you know...about the Darkness?"
"Sara, we all have the Darkness. But that is not all there is."
Her Father's words from her first lucid time after the Darkness echoed in her ears, " I hope this face of destruction is not the only face you would show. That would be a sad day indeed."
Her eyes narrowed on Luk, "YOU! You made me confused! You made me question. Everything was so simple. Everything was in order, and I was in control."
Luk simply leaned forward and kissed her forehead, "Sara don't you understand?" His head rested on hers then.
She did. She had been denying a piece of herself for a long time, surpressed under memories of horrible, inhuman things she would do to the Kine in the name of art. Her mortal was not dead. Her mortal was in entropy. And Luk had regenerated it.
"I need to go to Confession." She said frantically.
"You already are."
Creation is Power.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Thursday, September 6th, 2007
| |
9:51 pm - Confusion
|
I had a dream last night, or was it last year. Maybe it was this morning.
I dreamed I killed all the Acolytes.
Is that why I am being punished?
Did I kill the Acolytes?
Did I kill my Beloved Father?
The worst part of this ordeal is that I cannot tell what is real, and what is not.
And now, I am beginning to forget why I am even here. Maybe it is best. If I am here, then maybe it is best I forget.
Ishtar, did I really kill all the Acolytes? Am I a monster?
|
|
(1 comment | comment on this)
|
| Tuesday, September 4th, 2007
| |
9:45 pm - Wow
|
Your Score: House Targaryen72% Dominant, 72% Extroverted, 54% Trustworthy Ancient. Noble. Passionate to the point of insanity. Transcending lesser beings, you are of House Targaryen.
You are a dominant personality—in fact, you are the most dominant of all eight house types. You will not suffer yourself to be ignored. You will not suffer yourself to be ruled. The phrase "I will not suffer myself to _____!" was practically made for you. You are willful, arrogant, and exceedingly dangerous to screw with. With a temper like yours, anyone stupid enough to saunter into your line of fire won’t soon forget their mistake.
You are also extroverted, which means that everyone in the world knows exactly what your intentions are. Unlike your cohorts (who hide behind smiles and courtesies and court politics), you think of it as your birthright to come riding in on an enormous dragon, breathing fire and fucking your siblings. Hey, what you lack in subtlty, you make up in style!
Finally, you are trustworthy. Your absurd amounts of power and borderline psychosis are not used unjustly. Unlike many, your general aims are just and true. You we bred for rule, and the fact that you cannot rest until you are doing so is not your fault. If you make up your mind, it becomes reality. Never one for empty threats or vainglorious lies, you can only speak the truth. And the truth is "fire and blood."
Representative characters include: Daenerys Stormborn, Rhaegar Targaryen, and Viserys Targaryen
Similar Houses: Baratheon, Lannister,and Tully
Opposite House: Frey
When playing the game of thrones, you play it to the death. |
|
(comment on this)
|
| Monday, September 3rd, 2007
| |
8:05 am - [[Requiem - Sarafim]] You Are Missed
|
Her violent, turbulant dreams shifted, and she was back at the hotel in Seattle.
She felt his blood coursing through her veins. She smelled his scent even after he left the room. It was maddening, this obsession...this ... fixation .
She went down to the lobby and found him playing the piano. He mentioned he could play several instruments, including the violen, and this pleased her. But she had no idea he was so talented.
She sat next to him and allowed her head to rest on his shoulder, and he changed his song from complicated, melodious mixture of sounds and expression to burn off whatever storm was brewing inside, to Chopsticks, so that she could join.
She joined him, but her heart was not in it. Those within her Covenant thwarted her moves. Those who were petty tried to bring her down before she could complete her duties and legacy for the Covenant. The sacrifice she made to remain when she knew she no longer belonged was very costly. She was compromised with rumors by the powerhungry or vengeful. Those fools would never become more then what they are given or handed. They would never create of their own accord. They would simply take what others have created, and try and pass it off as their own. Scavengers of unoriginal thought and intent. Cowards. The irony was that she created and remained, despite her own beliefs, for them. Nothing had been the same since Atlantic City.
Wallace, Rachel, and then Emmie. Just ...swept under the rug.
She began to cry blood tears. Christopher stopped playing and scooped her into his arms, carrying her away from the sight of others.
How weak he must have seen her then. He did not know that she has not cried since Wallace died. He did not know that she never allowed vulnerability. And he certainly did not know the power and responsibility of a Muse.
It did not matter. She felt the echo of love enflame her heart with a reality and passion that the Elders could never truly remember. It did not matter that Christopher may see her as weak. He saw her as his. That was enough. As well as feeling his strong arms around her.
Sarafim's mind held on to that sensation - the thought of being vulnerable and crying into Christopher's shoulder while he carried her to a place they could be alone. She forced herself to remember all the details. The smell of him, the taste of his kiss, the feel of his skin, and most assuredly, the one feeling she had inside, however brief, that she had not felt for a long, long time.
Safe.
Just like the womb in the earth.
Safe.
Internally, she smiled, grateful for the moment's peace as she Lusted for that feeling and the memories that surrounded it. She would hold this feeling as long as she could.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Wednesday, August 29th, 2007
| |
7:02 am - [[Requiem - Sarafim]] Dance around the Fire
|
Sara was nakid. Her cunieform scars were lit by the light of the moon. In addition, she had burned designs into her skin for formality and rite. She was dancing with a hypnotic sway of her hips, dancing to seduce the night around a group of pillars.
On each of these pillars was all of the Admired and Respected Circle members she knows. They were bound and gagged against a pole that held them to the stake in the ground. She danced and danced, faster and faster under the full moon. The Admired and Respected had long since lost the strength to struggle, as she had bled them near the brink of death. She danced her way, fleet of foot, to a single torch that was lit nearby. She lit the pyres, and watched as the vampires squirmed with their last strength and will. She moved to watch each of their faces, and stopped right in front of Felipe before lighting his pyre.
No concious thought, only a feeling, filled her entire being as she lit this pyre with much more care and method. Betrayel
She stepped back, keeping eye contact as much as he would allow, as she watched the leaders of the Circle burn.
Did they kill me? Or am I killing them?
Confusion, anger, betrayel, and hatred overwhelmed her as she fell to the ground in a fetal form, and found comfort in the feel of the cold, soft earth. From the places of the stigmata, her body began to bleed into the ground and feed the soil.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Monday, August 27th, 2007
| |
10:37 am - [[Requiem-Sarafim]] A Moment of Lucidity
|
Where am I? I thought I heard a sound the other day. I could not tell if it was the sound of metal scraping on metal or a rodent.
How long have I been out? Am I still 22 years into my embrace? How many deathdays have passed?
Am I still dreaming? No, I believe my thoughts are collected for a moment's time. Blessed moment of peace and lucidity. Are you more of a tribulation by taunting me with what I could have if these dreams did not plague me?
I wonder if Christopher died. My Knight, my love. He would have stormed the castle to save me.
I wonder if Gazember died. My Rogue, my delicious fiend. He does not care for which dragon he must slay to keep what is his.
I did not expect them to die, but I am not surprised. In a world of darkness, there are no innocents, and there is none who are safe. I know this truth now - no matter what you cleave to from your mortal world, even familia, is an illusion.
The only ones I am certain will survive are December and Father General. Albeit for different reasons, no matter what happens, they will remain.
Will I die still knowing of Longinus? Or will the dreams take my knowledges in confusion by the time I am removed from this state?
The Testament does not speak of Purgatory but Hell for the Damned. But, I know I am in Purgatory - a state of in between while I pay for the sins of having Faith.
I wonder if Joan of Arc in Faith or Helen of Troy as a Muse would have had this problem as a vampire.
I feel the dreams overtake me, as I drift back to sleep. Should I fight them for a moment's peace, or face them steadfast and unafraid? I will sleep...for now.
|
|
(2 comments | comment on this)
|
| Sunday, August 26th, 2007
| |
5:38 pm - Flicker - OOC Notes
|
To those I have background ties regarding Flicker:
LJ:
Due to the sheer amount of 'stuff' I got from one night with Flicker, the only LJ I will be doing for her is one for my own personal records at this time. I may open it up in the future, but for now, I need to get the char established, and use the LJ as a method of putting down thoughts, theories, hypothesis, and general collected information (Edictic memory). So pretty good chance you won't see anything more regarding this char on this LJ :P
Char concept:
When playing the char concept, she came out, to me, more like Doyle from Angel then Fred, minus migraines and add in science/academia. Didn't mean it that way, it just happened. Also, in DnD terms, she was as close to a true nuetral, I believe, that I could come up with.
Before the game, I changed her from Ordo to Unaligned. Still would love the Ordo ties, however.
One more note: This is a really cool char to play, and a very nice contrast to Nanshe/Sarafim so that I am not pidgeon-holed in this chronicle.
I will be contacting those who have requested char ties sometime this upcoming week, pending work and the kid's going back to school.
That is all.
~E
|
|
(4 comments | comment on this)
|
| Friday, August 24th, 2007
| |
9:10 am - OOC Musing
|
You know, I have been watching Boston Legal recently, because I totally dig the show. Brilliantly written. I digress.
Any way, I show my nerd status as I watch the show, I -really- want someone to play a char like Denny Crane, who uses his name like that.
Unfortunately, I know I could not pull it off ICly, because of the way I RP. I can act a slew of character types, but you need someone so full of pomp and glory days, and alas, I haven't been able to pull it off yet with any PCs since '94.
We need a "Denny Crane" in the Carthians. That is what the chronicle is lacking.
"Denny Crane!"
|
|
(5 comments | comment on this)
|
| Thursday, August 23rd, 2007
| |
8:26 am - [[Requiem-Sarafim]] Submissive Whores of Ishtar
|
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girlfriend
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girlfriend
How long had she been praying? How long had she been on her knees? She reasoned this was justified because her God was the only one she would submit to.
"YOU LIE! You know the worst part about that? You lie to yourself!" She heard a familiar voice behind her and turned around.
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girlfriend
I hope I hold a special place with the rest of them
And you know it makes me sick to be on that list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed
There was Dre. He had the look on his face she had given him, and the Harvester had harnessed. Her gift to him, a piece of the Beast. His gift to her , a piece of the mortal, until the Beast she gave to him destroyed it. He wielded two swords, one in each of his hands.
You say you’re gonna burn before you mellow
I will be the one to burn you
Why’d you have to go and pick me?
When you that we were different, completely
He tossed her one of the swords, and said in cold exterior indifference, "You have no power here any longer."
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girlfriend
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girlfriend
I hope I hold a special place with the rest of them
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girlfriend
She caught the sword, and prepared for battle. And faster then she knew, he gave her a different look - the look he had given her the night of the Summer Solstice. She found herself on her knees in front of him, a strange combination of submission and Beast, her back arching up in contorted form.
I'm another ex-girlfriend on your list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed
"Pathetic," He finally said what he has always thought.
Your wildness scares me
So does your freedom
You say you can’t stand the restrictions
I find myself trying to change you
If you were meant to be my lover I wouldn’t have to
And she finally revealed a secret of her own, as she thrusted the sword into his heart.
And I feel so mean, I feel in between
‘Cause I’m about to give you away
The mask of the Harvester fell away. He stumbled back and clutched the sword, pulling it from his heart.
"You...wounded...me," He was stunned. He had better martial prowess then her. He should have won.
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girlfriend (for someone else to take)
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girlfriend (am I making a mistake?)
I hope I hold a special place with the rest of them (all the time that we spent)
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girl, friend
She stood then, the Harvester's mask slid into place, seeming to have left him and transfered to her. She smiled with indifference.
I’m another ex-girlfriend on your list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed
I’m another ex-girlfriend on your list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed
"You have no power here any longer," She whispered in seductive hush.
I’m about to give you away for someone else to take
I’m about to give you away for someone else to take
The rage of the Beast filled him and he charged her with all of his might.
We keep repeating mistakes for souvenirs
And we’ve been in between the days for years
And I know that when I see you I’m going to die
I know I’m going to want you and you know why
It’s going to kill me to see you with the next girl
‘Cause I’m the most gorgeously jealous kind of ex-girl
She dodged his advance, and did a single backstroke to decapitate him.
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girlfriend
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girlfriend
I hope I hold a special place with the rest of them
I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girl friend
The head rolled to the ground, and asked up to her, "Why?"
I’m another ex-girlfriend on your list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed
I’m another ex-girlfriend on your list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed
"Faith," She said simply, and sliced his head in half. "Sleep well, my once love."
As she felt the life leave him, she felt something wet on her cheeks. She reached up and touched her her cheeks. Her fingertips rubbed themselves against each other. Blood. Was it his or hers?
"You have no power here, ever again."
|
|
(8 comments | comment on this)
|
| Monday, August 20th, 2007
| |
9:54 am - [[Sarafim - Requiem]] Compass
|
Sara had been running a long long time, and was tired. The further she got, the longer the field she ran in became.
Sometime this night (or was it a year ago?) she got confused, and could not tell whether she was to come or go. Pushing, pulling, she felt them both, and was completely torn on to run to or from the Muse.
She did the only thing she could do. She fell to her knees, and began to pray.
God of the Heavens, grant me a compass that I might find my way - that I might serve you through the Dark Prophet once more
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Friday, August 17th, 2007
| |
8:53 pm - [[Sarafim - Requiem]] Pulled
|
(Friday, August 17th, 2007, at exactly 9:36pm CST)
Something had changed. Her dreams shift and she found herself in a field, walking. She felt a need to go somewhere.
Her red dress, the color of mourning, bled to white as her feet began to pick up the pace. Faster. Faster. She spent the blood ( HUNGRY) to run as fast as she can.
She saw his face in her mind, and it caused her to go even faster, though she thought it was not possible.
The Muse was calling her. She had no choice but to follow.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
10:28 am - [[Sarafim - Requiem]] Cutting In
|
(Friday, August 17)
"Hold still" She told the lifeless corpse under her fingers.
Dr. Charles Sirius lay slumped before her, his skull cap removed as Sarafim performed the ungodly surgery on his mind.
She had already cracked open his skull like a walnut and her sacrificial dagger, given to her by Giselle, began to slice into his brain.
As she sliced into the fleshy brain matter, she discovered that what lied underneath was the lacrima chocolate that Sir Stahl had sent as a gift to her. She smiled with satisfaction and began to eat the brain and chocolate center like an orange.
Hungry!
"Mine! MINE MINE! MY Secrets!" Felipe screamed in the background in French.
|
|
(3 comments | comment on this)
|
| Thursday, August 16th, 2007
| |
2:46 pm - [[Flicker - Requiem]] OOC Ties Sought
|
Clan: Nos
Covenant : Ordo
Heritage: Irish
Mortal Name: Baibre
Embraced : Victorian London (mid to late 1800s)
Concept: The Monster's On the Outside
Appearance: Hideously deformed
Peering into thoughts a derangement opposite delusions of grandeur, like delusions of austerity. Gonna send to ST but would be something like this: Character does not know their own strength...in anything. When shaking a hand, they end up crushing the bone. When getting angry, they end up using Nightmare, etc.
Mortal year thoughts: Was considered a rebel with Victorian science because she rejected the notion of the 4 humors and researched ether and microbiology as well. As women were not allowed to be doctors, she studied with whatever she could, wherever she could (more research to come as far as what was available in London at that time)
Got a Sire.
Personality: Socially shy, very squirly and bookwormy (think Fred from Angel series). She gets incredibly frustrated that people seem to run off whenever she makes the effort to try and speak to them, so she remains in the shadows. Even for a vampire, she is scary (high nightmare, high intimidation) though she doesn't know it. (homegrown derangement) Rejects any organized religion due to it holding one back from seeing all factors with their self imposed moralism and rules. Has a higher value on animals then mortals, and mortals then vampires. Even though she is about transcending, she still has a fondness for the Victorian era.
Anyone interested?
|
|
(7 comments | comment on this)
|
| |
8:48 am - Hubris
|
Sylvia Johnson was in a car on her way to the Meritocracy of Beaumont. Her eyes briefly looked to the letters on the passanger seat.
These were not the only letters, but they were the letters remaining. Two envelopes, both with the name "December Carnivale" written on it in the caligraphic way that her former Regnant wrote.
Sylvia had seen many things. She was ghoul once to Wallace, then briefly to Nanshe before she was given to Thomas. She knew Nanshe despised her for being a ghoul. Something about slavery. Personally, Sylvia liked being a ghoul. Just nod your head, do what you are told, and you live forever as long as you do a good job. In the meantime, no one suspects that the ghoul knows the silly games that vampires play, and has seen it all unfold since the beginning.
Then again, it is nothing new to her - dealing with monsters. She is, after all, a lawyer.
Yet at the end, Nanshe used her like they all used her. And, as a good ghoul should, she sent out the letters on time. Now, just one last stop in person before she returned back to the Bishop.
She actually liked this assignment, unlike some of the other tedious or messy tasks she has performed.
After all, whether mortal or vampire, in or out of the courtroom, she has seen many forms of hubris, hypocracy, and conceipt. She shrugged her shoulders as she paid attention to the road.
Sometimes they get theirs in the end, sometimes they don't. But at least her former Regnant had the guts to face them in their own court of law.
|
|
(3 comments | comment on this)
|
| Wednesday, August 15th, 2007
| |
8:57 am - Cutting away
|
Wednesday, August 15th
Krista was bound to the tub with chains she and Wallace had put there.
Nanshe watched the creature struggle, delighting in the torment that the Hunger filled her with. Her mind was clouded. When the creature screamed, she heard beautiful music.
Nanshe moved from her crouching spot of watching long enough to put a single drop of blood on Krista's tongue, and then stepped back and watched her attempt to bite through her chains.
Remarkable. Purely magnificent, the creature that Ishtar blesses them as.
A pity she will have to kill her.
Oh, it is true, she could allow her to live. But in doing so, she would forever chain herself and change who and what she is. This is not tolerable. Ishtar has made her beautiful already in her Blood.
Nanshe stepped forward to the hungry writhing creature. She laughed when Krista snapped forward at her to taste of her blood.
"You wish this?" She holds the open wound in front of the creature's face so that the smell of blood is maddening. She laughs at the reaction.
Suddenly, her expression grows cold, and she says in a chilling tone. "So do I. Come my dear, it is time to be a sacrifice to Ishtar."
Her creation offered up to Her. Praise Ishtar, friend and foe!
She overpowered the tormented creature known as Krista, and consumed her to the point of death, stopping before she took her soul. Then, she delivered the killing blow.
|
|
(10 comments | comment on this)
|
|
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.1){kind=small}
nanshedaeva's journal