She woke in a daze, lost and confused. Her surroundings were completely unfamiliar to her. Actually, everything was unfamiliar to her. Her head pounded as she stumbled through the sewers. Left to die? Perhaps. Her hands traced the wall for support, trying to find a way out. She continued for awhile, until she exhausted herself. She slumped against the nearest wall and crouched into a tight ball. She was scared, and...surprisingly, hungry. She passed out quickly despite the fact she was laying on her side against a hard concrete wall.
She woke suddenly the next night, still in a daze and with the pounding in her head. Someone had spoken to her. Who? Sister? She was sure she heard someone in her head, was she finally going crazy? Going? No, she was already there. She stood to her feet and wandered. Her white summer dress was torn and dirty, the sandals on her feet broken and barely staying on her, still she continued as if she didn't notice.
Suddenly, with her body starved and desperate for a meal, her vampiric nature took over. When she came back "to", she found herself feeding on the rats of the sewers. Utterly disgusted with herself she chucked the dead rat away from her and ran in the opposite direction. She ran until she escaped from the sewers. Free from them at last.
She stumbled around the city, sure she would be lost forever. Until she stopped in front of a building. She glanced at the sign hanging out front of it, “Harper Rock City Morgue.” Something about this place spoke to her, while she knew she probably shouldn’t, she continued to enter anyways.
She found a quiet corner in the back all to herself, her head ach was gone, and her belly was full. She was feeling a bit better as she curled into the fetal position and tried to sleep on the hard floor. She was still scared, and unsure of everything, but she could see others. They were sleeping in here as well, so it must be alright. Plus, she didn’t understand why, but she quite liked this morgue. Maybe if she stayed in one place someone would find her soon.
Somewhere I belong.
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Dia
- Posts: 47
- Joined: 07 Aug 2011, 23:52
Re: Somewhere I belong.
A few more nights passed, she moved mostly on instinct. Her body taking over for her comatose brain. Stay out of the sun, her body knew of the pain it would cause if she went out in the day, or if she didn’t fed on something, even the rats from the sewers would do. She hated it, she couldn’t understand it. She wanted an escape and a reason why these things were happening. She was sure this was not normal. However she had none of these things. The one thing she had was a feeling. A feeling that she had to find someone. She wasn’t sure who, or even how she would do this. She just had to. Maybe this person could explain the things she didn’t know. Maybe they knew her.
Then, it happened. She was found. Velveteen this woman called herself, and Velindia was in awe. She said she could explain everything to her, that she could answer her questions and even more exciting, show her to the person she was looking for. Her hopes were jumping, but she was still scared. Though this woman was looking for her as well, she also didn’t know who Velindia was. Still, she had the other answers she looked for.
Velveteen did as she said and showed Dia to the man she was searching for. Her excitement at getting her answers was soon smashed however. He didn’t know her either, and seemed to have little to no interest in her or how she ended up here. She felt a burden to them. She left from the meeting and followed him for a bit. It seemed like the right thing to do, she could only hope maybe she wouldn’t displease him and Velveteen again. Maybe if she remembered, they would be happy with her?
After departing from him she was exhausted mentally. She found a secluded street and sprawled out on it. Why couldn’t she go in the sun? She was determined to see it again; maybe she could figure out the answers herself so she wouldn’t need to bother others. She would force her body to stay in the street until the sun rose. She had decided to get the answers herself, not fully understanding what the consequences to that action would be.
However despite this plan, a curious person found her. Mordecai was his name; he said they were from the same family line. Family, it was a sweet word. They spoke for a moment, and he happened to mention the word graveyard. She couldn’t fight the urge to not go and see it with him. So, she allowed him to lead her there, and she instantly liked it. The aura, scent, and presence here wrapped her in a warm feeling. He showed her how to sleep there safely and so she did as he instructed and fell asleep almost instantly. The ground was a much more comfortable sleeping spot then the hard floors of sewers and the morgue. Though, she still liked the morgue as well.
Velindia had found the man she felt she needed to find, Wolf. And the other she felt a connection to as well, Velveteen. Though she wasn't sure their feelings on her, she knew she should remain close to them. Then she had made her first friend. Since waking up in this city, things seem to be turning around for her and she was more excited for the next night then she had since she awoke in those sewers.
Then, it happened. She was found. Velveteen this woman called herself, and Velindia was in awe. She said she could explain everything to her, that she could answer her questions and even more exciting, show her to the person she was looking for. Her hopes were jumping, but she was still scared. Though this woman was looking for her as well, she also didn’t know who Velindia was. Still, she had the other answers she looked for.
Velveteen did as she said and showed Dia to the man she was searching for. Her excitement at getting her answers was soon smashed however. He didn’t know her either, and seemed to have little to no interest in her or how she ended up here. She felt a burden to them. She left from the meeting and followed him for a bit. It seemed like the right thing to do, she could only hope maybe she wouldn’t displease him and Velveteen again. Maybe if she remembered, they would be happy with her?
After departing from him she was exhausted mentally. She found a secluded street and sprawled out on it. Why couldn’t she go in the sun? She was determined to see it again; maybe she could figure out the answers herself so she wouldn’t need to bother others. She would force her body to stay in the street until the sun rose. She had decided to get the answers herself, not fully understanding what the consequences to that action would be.
However despite this plan, a curious person found her. Mordecai was his name; he said they were from the same family line. Family, it was a sweet word. They spoke for a moment, and he happened to mention the word graveyard. She couldn’t fight the urge to not go and see it with him. So, she allowed him to lead her there, and she instantly liked it. The aura, scent, and presence here wrapped her in a warm feeling. He showed her how to sleep there safely and so she did as he instructed and fell asleep almost instantly. The ground was a much more comfortable sleeping spot then the hard floors of sewers and the morgue. Though, she still liked the morgue as well.
Velindia had found the man she felt she needed to find, Wolf. And the other she felt a connection to as well, Velveteen. Though she wasn't sure their feelings on her, she knew she should remain close to them. Then she had made her first friend. Since waking up in this city, things seem to be turning around for her and she was more excited for the next night then she had since she awoke in those sewers.
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Dia
- Posts: 47
- Joined: 07 Aug 2011, 23:52
Re: Somewhere I belong.
(This is ALL OOC.)
She plopped down in the park and rested the notebook against her propped up knees. She pulled the pen from her hair and flipped to the first page, beginning to scribble.
Dear, well, piece of paper. This is stupid. Why I have found myself writing to you is beyond me. Maybe its boredom, maybe, I have something to say.
After a moments hesitation, she wrote more.
Then again, maybe I don’t.
She tapped the pen against the piece of paper, this was harder then she thought. Writing.
A lot of things have happened. Things aren’t scary anymore. Its hard imagining now how they ever were. Everyone and I are great. I have a **** ton of siblings, Wolf doesn’t seem to know how to control his hunger or something. Keeps killin’ them left and right. Not that I mind, it gives me others to talk to and play with.
My three lovely brothers, Drake, Shade and Lion. They all keep me happy and amused. Drake, the friendly lovable one. You can just tell by just a few conversations with him, he wants everyone happy and to get along. Then my foreigner Shade. He tried to teach me soccer. I wasn’t good at it, so I pelted him with the ball instead. She smirked somewhat mischievously at that. He’s good fun. Then Mr. Killer Lion. My younger trouble maker brother. I enjoy our time together, even if it does lead to me slicing his neck and him breaking my leg. All in good fun, right?
I have my Cai. My precious, loveable, amazing, Cai. My first friend in this city, before my sire, before my brothers, before everyone there was only one person. Cai. He is so sweet, so innocent. It makes me want to corrupt him. I won’t lie. Not to you, piece of loyal paper. And maybe, I’m getting there.
Wolf. My sire. I love him, of course. I would probably do anything under the sun for him. Figuratively speaking- Well no, if he asked me to go play in the sun, I might. My loyalty runs deep, and I’m not sure why. Is this the same for all childe – sire, relationships? A new research topic, I suppose. Which reminds me, gotta stop being a chicken **** and talk to him about my turning. Eventually.
Speaking of turning, I got myself a childe. After I first realized I had no memories of my human years the only thing I wanted, was to get them back. Now, I have that choice. I could get them back. In the form of Catalina who came to this City in search of her missing best friend. Me.
However, I have instructed her not to tell me. I’m scared again, of what I might find out. Did I leave a boyfriend, a husband behind? What about my parents? Are there people who are missing their daughter, friend, and lover? I don’t want to know. I don’t. I’m enjoying THIS life. Isn't it better then knowing there are people pinning away for my return, only to know I can never give it to them in fear of breaking the masquerade.
She looked up at the sky for a moment at bright stars, and the cloudless beautiful night sky.
Surly, it’s better not remember what it feels like to have the sun kiss my skin, the taste of delicious human foods I’ll never have the pleasure of trying again. The warmth of another against my skin. It’s best not to remember. I’m sure.
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Dia
- Posts: 47
- Joined: 07 Aug 2011, 23:52
Re: Somewhere I belong.
Things have been moving right along for our little Necromancer. She continues to play with the many other childes of her sire, spending many nights in her brothers apartment with them all. Dueling, attacking, or all seeing if they could possibly all fit in the same bed. -Which they can. Even with the three zombies she raised to add to the fun.
She learned bits and pieces of her old self here and there from Catalina, or, Kitty. As the woman liked to be called. Supposedly its what Dia regularly called her, and it did have a familiar ring to it. You know... she used to know Spanish. Dia did. Kitty told her this after Dia commented wanting to be able to understand her random Spanish sayings. Imagine that. Imagine even more, she used to be so fluent in the language it was she whom helped Catalina with her English.
Now, she hadn't changed her mind since she wrote in that notepad, she didn't want to learn of her past. But little things like this, she could deal with. Now, the woman had a project she sat her mind on instead. Because while she was playing nice, there was also a few things on her mind. Revolving around certain people, yet she couldn't bring those thoughts, those feelings to light. So, she operated.
How this idea came to her, well it was a complicated thought process. Many nights she sat contently by herself in the graveyard, usually she could count on Cai to come find her. Place a kiss to her cheek in greeting. She had to smile at this, all her brothers, and even Cai would greet her this way and she loved it.
It was one of these nights, when Cai wasn’t around the idea came to her.
After hours of solitude, she summoned some zombies to keep her company. One had tried escaping from her, and she simply couldn’t have this. So in a fit of misplaced rage she lunged at it and tore off its arm and proceeded to beat the thing with it. After a moment, it laid on the ground. Seconds from poofing back to ash, and she felt remorse. She placed the zombies arm back in its socket and avoided the weak attempts of the zombie trying still to eat her brains. Of course, the arm didn’t “take” and the zombie disappeared with its death. She turned to the other two and dispatched them with two clean, swift swipes of her sword.
Back to her gravestone, well not HER gravestone, another unfortunate fools stone that she sat upon. Then it came to her, her idea. She had already collected an arm and a leg. The arm from her brother Lion, he said something about taking care of her “wrath” so, she did. His arm was hers.
The leg, the leg belonged to her sire. While Lions arm was taken for more fun than anything, the leg from Wolf might have had deeper emotions attached to it. Not that she would admit it. Frustrated with him, so she chopped off a leg. She needed more pieces though. After a few hours she had been rewarded with an eyeball from Kitty and a second arm from Cai for her little plan. This was enough for now, time to operate.
She learned bits and pieces of her old self here and there from Catalina, or, Kitty. As the woman liked to be called. Supposedly its what Dia regularly called her, and it did have a familiar ring to it. You know... she used to know Spanish. Dia did. Kitty told her this after Dia commented wanting to be able to understand her random Spanish sayings. Imagine that. Imagine even more, she used to be so fluent in the language it was she whom helped Catalina with her English.
Now, she hadn't changed her mind since she wrote in that notepad, she didn't want to learn of her past. But little things like this, she could deal with. Now, the woman had a project she sat her mind on instead. Because while she was playing nice, there was also a few things on her mind. Revolving around certain people, yet she couldn't bring those thoughts, those feelings to light. So, she operated.
How this idea came to her, well it was a complicated thought process. Many nights she sat contently by herself in the graveyard, usually she could count on Cai to come find her. Place a kiss to her cheek in greeting. She had to smile at this, all her brothers, and even Cai would greet her this way and she loved it.
It was one of these nights, when Cai wasn’t around the idea came to her.
After hours of solitude, she summoned some zombies to keep her company. One had tried escaping from her, and she simply couldn’t have this. So in a fit of misplaced rage she lunged at it and tore off its arm and proceeded to beat the thing with it. After a moment, it laid on the ground. Seconds from poofing back to ash, and she felt remorse. She placed the zombies arm back in its socket and avoided the weak attempts of the zombie trying still to eat her brains. Of course, the arm didn’t “take” and the zombie disappeared with its death. She turned to the other two and dispatched them with two clean, swift swipes of her sword.
Back to her gravestone, well not HER gravestone, another unfortunate fools stone that she sat upon. Then it came to her, her idea. She had already collected an arm and a leg. The arm from her brother Lion, he said something about taking care of her “wrath” so, she did. His arm was hers.
The leg, the leg belonged to her sire. While Lions arm was taken for more fun than anything, the leg from Wolf might have had deeper emotions attached to it. Not that she would admit it. Frustrated with him, so she chopped off a leg. She needed more pieces though. After a few hours she had been rewarded with an eyeball from Kitty and a second arm from Cai for her little plan. This was enough for now, time to operate.
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Dia
- Posts: 47
- Joined: 07 Aug 2011, 23:52
Re: Somewhere I belong.
The small petite woman stood facing a wavering zombie, not attacking, but merely, judging? Maybe that was the right word. After only a minute or so, she kicked the thing in the chest that caused it to fall then quickly she pinned its limbs down with knives. Her operation was about to begin!
The man had been searching the city for hours looking for the one man who managed to attack him at night. He growled, his lips pulled back in a snarl as his eyes scanned the city streets. His hand was on his gun, who cares what human saw him, if they said something he’d pop off their head like a pez dispenser. He jumped down the sewers and made his way to the QZ area of the city maybe he’d find his victim there hiding, or even better wasting his energy in killing meaningless dead things.
After pinning the poor thing, she frowned down at it sadly. "Sorry, Buddy." She mumbled to softly, as if it were a dear friend. "I'm just going to upgrade you, is all." She added with a certain tone of excitability. She kneed down on the ground, then raised her sword high above her head, bringing it down on the zombies shoulder-arm socket. Severing its arm. The zombie merely moaned, but didn't seem to feel any pain. She unpinned its hand, no longer needing to be pinned since, well, it was severed. She picked up the arm and tossed it over her head without thought and pocketed the bloody knife in her white dress pocket with her latex adorned hands.
He was with heavy feet trucking his way through the buildings one after the other of empty zombie infested wastelands. He saw a few vampires, resting none the less but still he paid them no mind to him they were nothing but a waste of space. Moving into the final are of the QZ he stood in the cemetery entrance and sighed, he was merely searching for a ghost it seemed yet still he pushed on and walked in. His eyes were keen, looking for any movement and his ears were sharp, the sound of popping sockets brought his attention to another area of the cemetery and quietly he walked over, his gun lifted and ready to fire. As he approached he crouched down, an arm came down on his head knocking him off balance. What the **** is this ****? He held up the arm with a less then amused expression on his face.
She had be admiring her work of art for a few moments, before grabbing a black garbage bag that set off to her side. She opened it up and reached in, but then suddenly jumped at the sound of a displeased male. Her back tensed and she looked over her shoulder at him, holding up the zombies arm. She narrowed her eyes then pointed her bloody knife at him, but spoke casually, calmly. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to disrupt an operation?"
He rubbed his head and in a quick rush got to his feet pointing his gun at the woman with the knife. "You think that petty little thing can keep you safe from me. Think again you little *****". He closed one eye keeping his aim tight and on target, her head. He took a step to the left, his feet crossing each other as he began to circle her and her... project: "I should ask you the same ******* thing, hasn’t anyone told you not to just toss limbs in the ******* air carelessly. Like ****, learn your manners."
She watched him curiously, an eyebrow raising as he spoke. Her knife followed him as he began to circle her. "I've been shot in the head before. It wasn't so bad." She mentioned neutrally. After a moment, she shrugged at his question and lowered her knife. As if unthreatened by him, she placed it on the ground and pulled another arm from the garbag bag, this one was clearly not a zombie arm however. She spoke as she did this, "You should be more aware of your surroundings, then. But I do apologize if you got zombie goo on you." She placed it to the struggling zombies shoulder socket, then remembered something. She glanced around until she spotted her book bag. "Hey. Mind getting me that bag?"
He rolled his eyes at the woman less impressed with her way of thinking then her looks; she was kind of cute but nothing more. She was already starting to bore him, and a teasing yawn left her lips as he covered his mouth with his arms. "You haven’t been hit with my bullet, I’ve killed before and knocked a couple on their asses – You should be scared." When he saw her drop her knife he paused and finally lowered his gun though his finger remained on the trigger. Xavier took a moment to examine his whereabouts before looking at the bag on the ground when she brought it up: "Get it yourself, you’re the one doing the fucked up **** here, not me." He kicked the bag in her direction.
"Is that so?" She asked still, looking the man over as if she couldn't believe that statement, then she shrugged. "I think it would be wise not to pick a fight with someone you do not know. You don't know what they are capable of." With that, she gave a small smile at him. She snatched the bag up with one hands and opened it with that same hand, it slipped in and began to search for something. "Plus-" She continued. "Fucked up things - is a subjective statement."
"That is so, check it if you need too." He looked at the ground where her project was taking place and snorted. "He’s ******* gross, what did you do to him? You’re one of those girls that like having sex with dead things aren’t you." He looked up slowly at her comment his eyes nearly burning a hole in the back of her head. "I don’t give two shits what a subjective statement is, I grew up on the streets I doubt I even remember what that is, let alone care. I understand violence, check it."
She smiled softly as her hands found the surgical needle and monostat suture material. "You have sex with dead things." She said confidently, glancing at him again before adding, "Since you are dead yourself, right? Or at least, that's what they say." She chuckled to herself and went to work, suturing the new arm to the zombies shoulder carefully and with skillful hands that suggests she had some knowledge in doing this. "You see this bag?" She asked finally after it seemed like she had no more to say. The bag itself held a faint impression itself of things still being in it. "Pieces Ive collected myself, from others. Don't underestimate me." She said happily, then looked at him again. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
The man had been searching the city for hours looking for the one man who managed to attack him at night. He growled, his lips pulled back in a snarl as his eyes scanned the city streets. His hand was on his gun, who cares what human saw him, if they said something he’d pop off their head like a pez dispenser. He jumped down the sewers and made his way to the QZ area of the city maybe he’d find his victim there hiding, or even better wasting his energy in killing meaningless dead things.
After pinning the poor thing, she frowned down at it sadly. "Sorry, Buddy." She mumbled to softly, as if it were a dear friend. "I'm just going to upgrade you, is all." She added with a certain tone of excitability. She kneed down on the ground, then raised her sword high above her head, bringing it down on the zombies shoulder-arm socket. Severing its arm. The zombie merely moaned, but didn't seem to feel any pain. She unpinned its hand, no longer needing to be pinned since, well, it was severed. She picked up the arm and tossed it over her head without thought and pocketed the bloody knife in her white dress pocket with her latex adorned hands.
He was with heavy feet trucking his way through the buildings one after the other of empty zombie infested wastelands. He saw a few vampires, resting none the less but still he paid them no mind to him they were nothing but a waste of space. Moving into the final are of the QZ he stood in the cemetery entrance and sighed, he was merely searching for a ghost it seemed yet still he pushed on and walked in. His eyes were keen, looking for any movement and his ears were sharp, the sound of popping sockets brought his attention to another area of the cemetery and quietly he walked over, his gun lifted and ready to fire. As he approached he crouched down, an arm came down on his head knocking him off balance. What the **** is this ****? He held up the arm with a less then amused expression on his face.
She had be admiring her work of art for a few moments, before grabbing a black garbage bag that set off to her side. She opened it up and reached in, but then suddenly jumped at the sound of a displeased male. Her back tensed and she looked over her shoulder at him, holding up the zombies arm. She narrowed her eyes then pointed her bloody knife at him, but spoke casually, calmly. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to disrupt an operation?"
He rubbed his head and in a quick rush got to his feet pointing his gun at the woman with the knife. "You think that petty little thing can keep you safe from me. Think again you little *****". He closed one eye keeping his aim tight and on target, her head. He took a step to the left, his feet crossing each other as he began to circle her and her... project: "I should ask you the same ******* thing, hasn’t anyone told you not to just toss limbs in the ******* air carelessly. Like ****, learn your manners."
She watched him curiously, an eyebrow raising as he spoke. Her knife followed him as he began to circle her. "I've been shot in the head before. It wasn't so bad." She mentioned neutrally. After a moment, she shrugged at his question and lowered her knife. As if unthreatened by him, she placed it on the ground and pulled another arm from the garbag bag, this one was clearly not a zombie arm however. She spoke as she did this, "You should be more aware of your surroundings, then. But I do apologize if you got zombie goo on you." She placed it to the struggling zombies shoulder socket, then remembered something. She glanced around until she spotted her book bag. "Hey. Mind getting me that bag?"
He rolled his eyes at the woman less impressed with her way of thinking then her looks; she was kind of cute but nothing more. She was already starting to bore him, and a teasing yawn left her lips as he covered his mouth with his arms. "You haven’t been hit with my bullet, I’ve killed before and knocked a couple on their asses – You should be scared." When he saw her drop her knife he paused and finally lowered his gun though his finger remained on the trigger. Xavier took a moment to examine his whereabouts before looking at the bag on the ground when she brought it up: "Get it yourself, you’re the one doing the fucked up **** here, not me." He kicked the bag in her direction.
"Is that so?" She asked still, looking the man over as if she couldn't believe that statement, then she shrugged. "I think it would be wise not to pick a fight with someone you do not know. You don't know what they are capable of." With that, she gave a small smile at him. She snatched the bag up with one hands and opened it with that same hand, it slipped in and began to search for something. "Plus-" She continued. "Fucked up things - is a subjective statement."
"That is so, check it if you need too." He looked at the ground where her project was taking place and snorted. "He’s ******* gross, what did you do to him? You’re one of those girls that like having sex with dead things aren’t you." He looked up slowly at her comment his eyes nearly burning a hole in the back of her head. "I don’t give two shits what a subjective statement is, I grew up on the streets I doubt I even remember what that is, let alone care. I understand violence, check it."
She smiled softly as her hands found the surgical needle and monostat suture material. "You have sex with dead things." She said confidently, glancing at him again before adding, "Since you are dead yourself, right? Or at least, that's what they say." She chuckled to herself and went to work, suturing the new arm to the zombies shoulder carefully and with skillful hands that suggests she had some knowledge in doing this. "You see this bag?" She asked finally after it seemed like she had no more to say. The bag itself held a faint impression itself of things still being in it. "Pieces Ive collected myself, from others. Don't underestimate me." She said happily, then looked at him again. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
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Dia
- Posts: 47
- Joined: 07 Aug 2011, 23:52
Re: Somewhere I belong.
You know, you think you know someone. You think you are close to them and you love them dearly, then you let the sleep wash over you for a few hours and you wake to find they have killed themselves. What is this, an epidemic going through this family? A sister and a brother who left behind nothing, no word, no reasoning, no goodbyes. What am I supposed to believe? That they suddenly just felt this life, this new life full of so many possibilities and countless opportunities, wasn’t worth it anymore?
Then perhaps it wasn’t a “suicide”, could they have been killed? Hunters perhaps? A gangster? What could have done this? And the most important question, are they returning? I hope they do, so I can kill them myself.
Velindia scribbled the note angrily in her pad of paper. Writing, it was supposed to help and relieve the anger, but she didn’t feel in the slightest a bit relieved. If you are going to off yourself, you should leave those whom you leave behind a message of why. Some closure would be nice. It would also be nice to not have others around you criticizing the dead, as if you are not aware yourself of the selfish acts of them whom killed themselves. Like insulting the dead would do anything productive anyways.
Where was her damn note? Or, perhaps they did leave a note to others, just not her. Maybe she wasn’t someone they felt close with in return. Maybe all the times she spent with her brother, sparring, playing, and joking around were not as meaningful to him as they were her. Then anger grew suddenly, but she knew not to show this face to her family, the rest of her loved ones.
She walked out of the apartment, calmly now. Though the rage and built up frustration was building furiously behind her calm, playful exterior she knew of one way that could help control it for a bit. To indulge herself by using a friend to help relieve her frustrations. Cause hell, they seem to like being used anyways.
Plus, she was nothing but a blood-thirsty monster in friendly innocent skin after all.
Then perhaps it wasn’t a “suicide”, could they have been killed? Hunters perhaps? A gangster? What could have done this? And the most important question, are they returning? I hope they do, so I can kill them myself.
Velindia scribbled the note angrily in her pad of paper. Writing, it was supposed to help and relieve the anger, but she didn’t feel in the slightest a bit relieved. If you are going to off yourself, you should leave those whom you leave behind a message of why. Some closure would be nice. It would also be nice to not have others around you criticizing the dead, as if you are not aware yourself of the selfish acts of them whom killed themselves. Like insulting the dead would do anything productive anyways.
Where was her damn note? Or, perhaps they did leave a note to others, just not her. Maybe she wasn’t someone they felt close with in return. Maybe all the times she spent with her brother, sparring, playing, and joking around were not as meaningful to him as they were her. Then anger grew suddenly, but she knew not to show this face to her family, the rest of her loved ones.
She walked out of the apartment, calmly now. Though the rage and built up frustration was building furiously behind her calm, playful exterior she knew of one way that could help control it for a bit. To indulge herself by using a friend to help relieve her frustrations. Cause hell, they seem to like being used anyways.
Plus, she was nothing but a blood-thirsty monster in friendly innocent skin after all.
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Dia
- Posts: 47
- Joined: 07 Aug 2011, 23:52
Re: Somewhere I belong.
So many nights have passed, with so many events that have occurred without you being updated and told, loyal piece of paper.
My Sire had left the city unexpected and unknowingly to me. It was hard, I won’t lie. I don’t spend every waking moment with my sire – I rarely spend anytime in his presence. But have no doubt, we are close. Always knowing in the back of my head that he is there for my questions, problems, and for the times I do want to spend some time with him was comforting. His sudden disappearance took away my safety blanket, and I felt vulnerable.
And I ******* hate feeling vulnerable.
So I might have done a few things, in my anger and hurt to make myself feel better. And I don’t regret any of them. I have lived my unlife playing happy maker to everyone else. I have sacrificed my own happiness a number of times as long as my loved ones wore a smile. So a little happiness for myself was required.
And then, he returned. He got an earful, a harsh verbal beating of course. I wouldn’t have felt right if I didn’t yell at him for leaving me feeling abandoned and left to deal with the wonderfully crazy people of my beloved West lineage. A hug, an exchange of “Love yous” and all was well again.
Well, besides the seemingly ruined relationship with my childe and me. Curious how it happened, maybe a miscommunication mixed in with hurt and pain from something unrelated to what we were even talking about. Whatever the cause, it happened. We spent months not speaking to each other, I felt hurt the woman couldn’t offer me a few words of love and understanding in a difficult time I was going though, and she was hurt as well I am sure. Things going on it her life and seemingly trying to push everyone away. I’m far from a perfect sire… But hopefully in time we can become the best friends we were once. Cause I really want that. We have since fixed the broken relationship, but of course things can’t be simple.
Rash choices lead to harsh consequences, something I’m hoping with all my might that my childe will grasp after this last little cluster ****. I need to bring the childe back down to earth, no one gets far by acting cocky and thinking you are untouchable. Granted, my childe knew enough to know she wasn’t untouchable cause she was quick to try and settle the issue, but thus came more issues. Feelings left over from arguments past spilling over into this one. I’m at a lost, and quite frankly worn out.
And where do you stand during a bounty hunt, when its family verses a friend? I of course did not hit, but the guilt of not even being able to warn him was nothing easy to deal with. How do you judge what is right, and still keep those who you call friends and family happy? One action can always lead to someone becoming pissed at you without honestly looking at the situation FROM your point of view. I guess this is life, er unlife.
I won’t blame all these allurist - y like feelings that are bubbling in me on the above issues. No, there is one more. One close to my heart, tugging at my heart strings with a ferocity that I have never experienced before, and then more strings tugging at my logic, at my personality. The one that has to make everyone else happy, before myself. I deserve this happiness, but do I risk everything for it?
I can’t help how I feel, and I don’t even know if I want to try. The feeling, is wonderful. It’s just the brains logic, the brains morals, the brain constant smacking of reality to my face - that hurts.
My Sire had left the city unexpected and unknowingly to me. It was hard, I won’t lie. I don’t spend every waking moment with my sire – I rarely spend anytime in his presence. But have no doubt, we are close. Always knowing in the back of my head that he is there for my questions, problems, and for the times I do want to spend some time with him was comforting. His sudden disappearance took away my safety blanket, and I felt vulnerable.
And I ******* hate feeling vulnerable.
So I might have done a few things, in my anger and hurt to make myself feel better. And I don’t regret any of them. I have lived my unlife playing happy maker to everyone else. I have sacrificed my own happiness a number of times as long as my loved ones wore a smile. So a little happiness for myself was required.
And then, he returned. He got an earful, a harsh verbal beating of course. I wouldn’t have felt right if I didn’t yell at him for leaving me feeling abandoned and left to deal with the wonderfully crazy people of my beloved West lineage. A hug, an exchange of “Love yous” and all was well again.
Well, besides the seemingly ruined relationship with my childe and me. Curious how it happened, maybe a miscommunication mixed in with hurt and pain from something unrelated to what we were even talking about. Whatever the cause, it happened. We spent months not speaking to each other, I felt hurt the woman couldn’t offer me a few words of love and understanding in a difficult time I was going though, and she was hurt as well I am sure. Things going on it her life and seemingly trying to push everyone away. I’m far from a perfect sire… But hopefully in time we can become the best friends we were once. Cause I really want that. We have since fixed the broken relationship, but of course things can’t be simple.
Rash choices lead to harsh consequences, something I’m hoping with all my might that my childe will grasp after this last little cluster ****. I need to bring the childe back down to earth, no one gets far by acting cocky and thinking you are untouchable. Granted, my childe knew enough to know she wasn’t untouchable cause she was quick to try and settle the issue, but thus came more issues. Feelings left over from arguments past spilling over into this one. I’m at a lost, and quite frankly worn out.
And where do you stand during a bounty hunt, when its family verses a friend? I of course did not hit, but the guilt of not even being able to warn him was nothing easy to deal with. How do you judge what is right, and still keep those who you call friends and family happy? One action can always lead to someone becoming pissed at you without honestly looking at the situation FROM your point of view. I guess this is life, er unlife.
I won’t blame all these allurist - y like feelings that are bubbling in me on the above issues. No, there is one more. One close to my heart, tugging at my heart strings with a ferocity that I have never experienced before, and then more strings tugging at my logic, at my personality. The one that has to make everyone else happy, before myself. I deserve this happiness, but do I risk everything for it?
I can’t help how I feel, and I don’t even know if I want to try. The feeling, is wonderful. It’s just the brains logic, the brains morals, the brain constant smacking of reality to my face - that hurts.
-
Dia
- Posts: 47
- Joined: 07 Aug 2011, 23:52
Re: Somewhere I belong.
Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding
Fall into your sunlight
The future's open wide beyond believing
To know why hope dies
Losing what was found, a world so hollow
Suspended in a compromise
The silence of this sound is soon to follow
Somehow sundown
And finding answers
Is forgetting all of the questions we call home
Passing the graves of the unknown
As reason clouds my eyes with splendor fading
Illusions of the sunlight
And the reflection of a lie will keep me waiting
A love gone for so long
This day's ending
Is the proof of time killing all the faith I know
Knowing that faith is all I hold
And I've lost who I am
And I can't understand
Why my heart is so broken
Rejecting your love
Without love gone wrong
Lifeless words carry on
But I know, all I know
Is that the end's beginning
Who I am from the start
Take me home to my heart
Let me go and I will run
I will not be silenced
All this time spent in vain
Wasted years, wasted gain
All is lost, hope remains
And this war's not over
There's a light, there's the sun
Taking all the shattered ones
To the place we belong
And his love will conquer all
Yesterday I died
Tomorrow's bleeding
Fall into your sunlight
Fall into your sunlight
The future's open wide beyond believing
To know why hope dies
Losing what was found, a world so hollow
Suspended in a compromise
The silence of this sound is soon to follow
Somehow sundown
And finding answers
Is forgetting all of the questions we call home
Passing the graves of the unknown
As reason clouds my eyes with splendor fading
Illusions of the sunlight
And the reflection of a lie will keep me waiting
A love gone for so long
This day's ending
Is the proof of time killing all the faith I know
Knowing that faith is all I hold
And I've lost who I am
And I can't understand
Why my heart is so broken
Rejecting your love
Without love gone wrong
Lifeless words carry on
But I know, all I know
Is that the end's beginning
Who I am from the start
Take me home to my heart
Let me go and I will run
I will not be silenced
All this time spent in vain
Wasted years, wasted gain
All is lost, hope remains
And this war's not over
There's a light, there's the sun
Taking all the shattered ones
To the place we belong
And his love will conquer all
Yesterday I died
Tomorrow's bleeding
Fall into your sunlight
-
Dia
- Posts: 47
- Joined: 07 Aug 2011, 23:52
-
Dia
- Posts: 47
- Joined: 07 Aug 2011, 23:52
Re: Somewhere I belong.
And since the beginning of my creation into a vampire, I have watched them all come. I have guided, taught, shown, and shared in their accomplishments as well as the heartbreak. Now, I get to watch as they all leave, without a word – just left with the memories.
I feel the ever strong desire to cling to those who are left with a fierceness, to not let them out of my sight and to continuously do a head count to make sure they don’t get lost. Though, who am I kidding. They are not getting –lost-. They are leaving, and my heart is breaking.
What is wrong with me, am I not giving enough attention? Do I not give off the aura of wanting nothing but happiness for them? Why can I not seem to keep those I want around me, around me? Maybe if I just chain them inside my apartment. I could summon them all zombie friends, and heal them nightly and they would never know harm, never have to leave.
Those who don’t vanish, just become distant. However, with my new "lock them in the apartment" theory they could no longer vanish, nor become distant. In one bed again, could they all sleep. - Just like before.
I’m liking this prospect more and more, and less and less am I liking these feelings of desire, helplessness, sadness, etc. I wonder if Wolf has some allurist in him that got transferred to me.
Though, the constant excuse of pushing any type of emotions off on allurists is inefficient, and rather played out.
Oh well.
I feel the ever strong desire to cling to those who are left with a fierceness, to not let them out of my sight and to continuously do a head count to make sure they don’t get lost. Though, who am I kidding. They are not getting –lost-. They are leaving, and my heart is breaking.
What is wrong with me, am I not giving enough attention? Do I not give off the aura of wanting nothing but happiness for them? Why can I not seem to keep those I want around me, around me? Maybe if I just chain them inside my apartment. I could summon them all zombie friends, and heal them nightly and they would never know harm, never have to leave.
Those who don’t vanish, just become distant. However, with my new "lock them in the apartment" theory they could no longer vanish, nor become distant. In one bed again, could they all sleep. - Just like before.
I’m liking this prospect more and more, and less and less am I liking these feelings of desire, helplessness, sadness, etc. I wonder if Wolf has some allurist in him that got transferred to me.
Though, the constant excuse of pushing any type of emotions off on allurists is inefficient, and rather played out.
Oh well.