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psychotic__Gal Vice Captain
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 Posted: Sun May 19, 2013 11:49 pm
Just like it sounds, folks.
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Posted: Sun May 19, 2013 11:51 pm
The grass was damp, stained red as her bare feet hit it. Bodies were littered here, a pile of ashes there, empty stakes were plunged into the ground in more than one spot. The full moon lit up the sky with a soft, pale, white glow. Broken clouds faded in and out of view as if they were afraid to block the violent moon’s light. Faint drumming was heard in the distance--ominous. She surveyed the damage, her red eyes assessing every detail. She had lost a number of her troops the night before—A significant number. She would need to make new ones. Soon. The past spring and summer in Europe had been a bloody one for the supernatural populations. She heard a howl in the distance, then another one…and another. They were getting closer and closer to the vampire’s hillock…But she knew something they didn't know. A cool, twisted smile overtook her lips as she muttered something in her native tongue—her small fingers took to the air, drawing something. Her red eyes closed but the placid smile never left her lips. Her movements were sharp, well thought out. She knew exactly what she was doing. Finally, she kissed her fingers then raised them to the sky just as a bold cloud moved in front of the sharp moon.
The eyes in the darkness came before the rumbling, guttural growls. The vampire’s eyes opened again, her smile grew larger. The cloud moved, shifted out of the weight of the cold moon. The vampire was no larger than an twelve year old child. She was a child. And she was surrounded by a pack of werewolves. "Good evening.” She said in her native tongue, her voice soft, musical, lifting into the night. “It took you long enough to find me…Come over here and fight me. What am I to do against the lot of you?” The hair along the necks of each of the wolves raised. There was something here that they couldn’t place. Something they were missing perhaps. She saw it all over their faces…the distrust in all of their eyes…The symbols upon the ground allowed her that privilege. They couldn’t sense the traps, however. The vampire was still.
The alpha moved restlessly…finally he moved in. He was going to try a side attack. The vampire’s eyes watched his movements, her body never moved. There was a flash of light and the wolf went down. The werewolf’s heavy body fell to the ground. His head bounced a few feet away. It would be oh so messy when dawn came and the wolf turned back into a man… The other wolves shifted nervously. They seemed to speak in an unspoken code…All but one attacked at once. Not all the wolves were killed as neatly as the alpha…others had limbs cut off, had gashes on their chests. But all would die…Nothing could heal them now—not even their own healing power. She moved her eyes to the last little wolf. The smile broadened on her lips.
It whined but it was unable to disobey. It tried to attack but it was met with the same fate. A yelp and it was finished. The night was silent once more. Gore was added to the hillock. The vampire smiled and began to hum an ancient melody as she drew more symbols across the ground, ready for the next attack, protecting her ground. Though she left her hill, it would stand fortified, protected. No one could touch it. The spells were imbedded so deeply into the ground that witches or psychics could not perhaps see them…unless they were looking. And why would they look? The scene was a burial ground…a battle field. But it was hers. She had not started the war, but she intended to hold her own. She intended to win.
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psychotic__Gal Vice Captain
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psychotic__Gal Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Nov 12, 2017 4:42 pm
Traveling had never been a priority for Eydis. Had never been something she longed to do—there was no need for it. Her father had neither been a trader or an immigrant. Her mother had lived several dwellings away. To put it simply: there was no reason. Yet, here she was. Traveling. There was little known about this world. Even to those who traveled. The borders of each land were not quite as concrete as they would become. There were no such things as passports. The world was still new. And yet it was coming to its own. Eydis could see that. It would almost be exciting.
The childlike vampire’s war to protect her home had ended. Her rule was established and the Egyptian vampire had left—she had said something about revenge. Revenge…it was not something Eydis craved at this time. Vengeance could blind you. It could lead you down the road to destruction. She had met plenty of deceased warriors who had sought vengeance and failed. Many who had told her that revenge had left their weaknesses out to be seen by those who were looking. No. she was not traveling for violence.
So why would the petite vampire leave her home? Eydis could not say for herself. Even as she sat on a small boat, crossing a body of water. There was something leading her. Eydis looked across the water, Mother and Guide sitting next to her. She had had to leave her living panther companion—NAME—as she did not think many would take kindly to the large cat. The darkness was settling into deep night. The waters gently lapped against the edge of the boat.
“We will arrive soon, lady.” The captain she had payed intoned in broken Italian. It was not his first language. Eydis did not care. She had silenced his initial questions with coin.
“What was it you had named this place?” She asked.
“Athens.”
Eydis had been on the island for weeks. There was…something here. The gods were different here than at home—the temples far grander. The patron goddess—Athena—seemed wise and just. Eydis liked her. Unfortunately, Eydis saw more of herself in their death God. In Hades. It was not long before Eydis became accustomed to seeing the Athenian army patrols. Not long before she studied them—hoping to glean what little she could of an organized army and how it functioned. She could bring her observations home.
It did not take her long to spot one unit in particular—one man, specifically. He stood out from the others. He was confident but had a trained clever eye. From his training with the other men, Eydis observed him to be one of the top warriors. Still, the vampire did not know what to do with her interest. Did she make him into a nightwalker? Or did she chalk it up to curiosity and interest and nothing more—leave him be once she finished? So, the vampire kept her vigil.
One clear spring evening, Eydis watched the army train and run through their practices. Guide lay next to her in her tree, “His spirit is interesting.” He commented upon the man.
“What do you see, Guide?” Eydis asked, more than aware that sometimes the cat could see things that she herself was blind to.
“Potential,” Answered the cat. Eydis eyed the cat curiously, but his attention was again drawn to the camp. Eydis let herself slip into her second sight. She eyes glowed dully in the darkening night.
The Athenian military captain’s spirit was full of many things—curiosity, charisma, confidence, intelligence…and there it was: magic. The boy was blessed with magic. The childlike vampire deepened her focus. The magic was not routinely accessed by the boy and it would remain untapped. The magic was shapeless at this time…but Eydis could see the potential of it merging with her rune magic should her immortal blood fill his veins.
And so she watched him longer. She gained insight into his routine, his acquaintances, where he slept, what he ate, who he screwed...He was shrewd. But not shrewd enough to break through the roadblocks and use his Gods-given abilities.
…..more to come
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Posted: Thu Aug 19, 2021 11:36 am
The hunger pangs started in her first class of the night during a review. The Id, the Ego, the superego...the...
how long has it been? her eyes glazed over.
Too long. the monster under Daphne's skin whispered. She swallowed and ignored the dryness in her throat and ignored the rolling in her veins and ignored the lightness in her head. She was not a child. She could master the hunger. She could control that demon in her blood. She could...
Daphne woke--her vision dominated by crimson. By blood. She removed the finger she had been sucking on--her own. The hunger was gone.
She felt amazing. She felt radiant. She felt strong.
Her sight came into focus and her eyes landed on the carnage around her.
Sharp reality. Disjointed images and memories flooded into her mind of the last several hours.
No
No
No
No.
She had been so good. she stifled a sob as she met the soulless bloodshot eyes from across the room. She stood in a burst of vampire speed. There were too many.
Monster. Demon.
She ran. They were sure to find her this time and she deserved to be found. She deserved to die.
---
The hospital was quiet as visiting hours had ended. Cian flashed his badge to the night officer on duty. "Working late, Dr. Jones?"
"Something like that, Reggie." He would be sad to leave at the end of the night. Reginald the night guard wouldn't remember Dr. Jones--the elusive researcher.
Cian came to to this town for one thing and one thing only.
It had only taken a few months to happen.
Two night shift nurses whispered together at the station, "an animal attack? I haven't seen one of those since...well, ever! Doctor Montgomery said she thinks he'll pull through."
"I know! Did you hear about the other boys?"
"How many were attacked anyhow?"
"I heard the whole fraternity."
There was a pause.
"That many?"
"All dead. They say their necks were ripped clean open!"
"And they're sure it was an animal?"
"Well, what else would it be?"
This was messy. Too sloppy. He was sure She would make an order he couldn't refuse or misinterpret.
He sighed, running a hand over his face.
he would clean it up. As he always did. This was getting out of hand. It hadn't been this bad since...
[Since the beginning.]
. . . .
Daphne woke hungry. Hungrier than she had ever been. God what was that smell? It smelled so fresh. So delicious. She needed it now. She tried to get up but hit something solid. Something...dirty.
Was she buried?
In years to come she would think of the hunger first--not the fear of being buried alive (well, not alive). She would remember the all-consuming need as she shoved her nails through her dirt prison to escape, reborn, into the night.
The fear came later. It came once her needs were met. Finally she reached the surface. Her hair was matted from her brief stay underground, her dress filthy.
She heard a Male voice but it was too loud, too clear, too...much. She hissed and scrambled away, her body slamming into a stone 4 yards away and cleaving it in 2.
"It's all overwhelming at first but you'll get used to it."
.....
Except, she didn't. Not the first week. Not the second. A fortnight had passed and the all consuming hunger filled her with hatred, spite and bitterness. Her jailer had only allowed her sips at a time. "Too much and the person will die."
She wanted to ask why it mattered but she couldn't find her voice yet. Better to pretend to be good than show him how bad she really was.
Finally "I must go away for..."
She had stopped listening at this point. She could taste freedom on her lips. Years later Daphne would not recall these beginning moments. These first few weeks. She would assume she had woken alone--no one to guide her. She would remember that she woke hungry and filled with need.
....
She walked the streets of her town in what was to have been her wedding dress. It wasn't white. In those days they rarely wore white for a wedding. But, it was well made. It was clean. It was beautiful.
The first house (well, her second after her own) was her accuser's--no not her betrothed but the one he coerced to lie. She tore the girl's throat open in one violent pounce before moving to the others.
More. She needed more.
The neighbors next.
The dress became progressively dirtier, her hair light gaining crimson flecks. She was not a neat eater by any standard. She was a toddler. A baby. Cries and screams filled the air that night as her former neighbors fought for their lives and lost.
Still the hunger wasn't saited.
"Demon, go. In the name of Jesus Christ I banish you. Leave this town."
Daphne smiled and finally found her voice, "Demon? Mm there was a time you called me by my given name. May even have been one more dear. Your intended."
"I never intended to enter into a holy marriage with a witch. I always knew what Evelyn was--a witch. A b***h born to tempt man and lead him astr--"
Need and anger and bitterness fueled her as she launched herself at him, tearing her nails into the skin of his chest through his shirt and biting his neck. She slammed his body into a wall, hearing the sharp crack of his spine as loud as thunder in a storm. As she felt his life leak from his body she pulled away.
Her hunger was satisfied. With clear red eyes she surveyed her surroundings--the bodies. The men and women.The children.
She brought the back of her hand (now trembling) across her lips.
"What have I done?" She whispered " What. Have. I. done? I am a demon. I must be."
And then she ran.
. . . .
Cian surveyed the boy on the bed. He was no older than 21. He was in bad shape but his heartbeat was becoming stronger. The boy's neck was bandaged cleanly though it would need to be changed soon. Cian could see reddish creep rising to the cloth surface. Again he sighed.
Daphne had been dormant for several years--attacking the solitary. He had been tracking her. And his maker...even when he lost the trace of Daphne, his maker found it. His maker threatened to end it. End the girl that put them all at jeopardy. It was his fault she was like this though. His. He couldn't blame the child for the actions he failed to take. His matriarch had told him to "clean up his mess." He chose an interpretation more literal than perhaps she intended. He cleaned up her messes whenever necessary but this couldn't continue. No.
The boy on the bed wouldn't be waking up anytime soon but he would and that's what mattered. It was the only thing that mattered. He would tell the world of the blonde haired, red eyed girl who slaughtered his fraternity brothers in the blink of an eye before turning to him.
Cian adjusted the IV bag before leaning over the boy. He took just enough blood to ensure the boy's death but to make it look like blood loss was the cause of death. He then drained the blood bag that had been feeding the boy. He would die in his sleep. A peaceful way to go. And with him the memory of Cian's progeny would die too.
Cian left the room, turning off the monitors. He spoke briefly to the nurses at their station, weaving words into coercion, removing his name from their lips and his likeness from their memories. Later the nurses would be fired for their negligence.
"Good night, Reggie."
"An early one for you, Dr. Jones." Cian made a noncommittal sound before meeting Reggie's eyes. He poured his power down. Reggie forgot all about the enigmatic researcher that night. Cian sat in his car, considering his next steps. He had to pick up the trail again...before it was too late.
How was he to know he wouldn't find Daphne's trail again until she found herself at thor years later?
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psychotic__Gal Vice Captain
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psychotic__Gal Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Aug 20, 2021 3:00 pm
Idea for post -- What could have been.
featuring Daphne in hell!
things to consider:
*drudging up old memories
--hello ptsd response to fire.
-- hello guilt over feeling like a liability
-- "monster" "demon"
-- made to "see" imagery of her friends being tortured alongside her.
*dark daphne?
Could also Do Adira in hell. But that would involve remember how to play her.
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