kaoniki: (Default)
She welcomed each of them into the small stone chapel. She had expected the Shadows to look more nervous.

She drew calm and peace around herself like a blanket; she would be needing it. She turned around and looked out at the half-dozen Damned assembled.

"So Sayeth the Monachus: As God is king of all the Universe, so is the Prince in his Domain. He rules by God's obeyance, and it is only God who gives that authority. But in giving, he also takes. The Prince is no God: he follows the laws set forth by Longinous and the Traditions. He is both a Prince and a Slave. He is first amongst the damned, and his word is law. He is a slave to the laws of God. Woe betide the Prince who breaks those Laws, for while we are all Damned, he who breaks the laws and claims the power of Prince will fall, his blood to be turned to dust in God's eyes.

"This is the word of the First Student and the wisest of the Damned. Amen.

"You might wonder why I choose to read these words of the Monachus tonight in Providence, where Prince Carver has held Praxis for over a year."

"I read them because tonight is Saint Delilah's Night. Tonight is a night to remember what it is like to have a Prince that will not act as the Monachus teaches.

"Harmon Scofield was infamous. Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, as a young neonate on another continent, I heard stories of him. I heard of how many Kindred fell to ash under his saber, of the Carthian Brother he cut in two pieces with one blow. Even before he was Prince, he was more terrifying than any Hound. Harman Scofield, it was told, had killed werewolves--plural--by himself.

"As Prince, he began a campaign of hate against the Lancea Sanctum, threatening the very practice of Mass, and even the mere mention of the Testaments or our Divine Purpose.

"And no one would challenge him. For decades, none in the City of Carcosa dared. And then a Miracle happened; the priest Delilah came to that City and established the Monastery of Saint Rose.

"But to the dread Prince Scofield, this was insolence. How dare she preach the Word of Longinus! How dare other vampires listen! How dare they choose to believe that God has a Divine Purpose for the Damned! Who was Delilah to inspire them to purposeful existences, if they so choose it, when Prince Scofield was capable of the slaying of werewolves?

"And so, the dread Prince Scofield declared that all followers of the Church of Longinus had one night to leave Carcosa, and that the Monastery of Saint Rose would be burned to the ground. And it was then that Delilah was called to Martyrdom.

"Instead of fleeing Carcosa, Delilah went to the home of the dread Prince. Yes, she went to his very Haven! And there, she challenged him with those same words of the Monachus which all of you heard earlier.

"And as the dread Prince raised his arm and struck her down, Delilah called down the Wrath of Ammoniel and both of them burned.

"The nights we live in now are different from those in many ways, but remember well that such Princes exist even now, even though we in Providence experience quite the opposite situation.

"Tonight is Saint Delilah's Night. And because of the lesson of her Martyrdom, I take a moment to show appreciation for my Prince, Julius Carver, who supports and aids our Holy Church here in this City." She looked at the Daeva in question, acknowledging his unmasked surprise, and wondered to herself what that other emotion hiding behind it was.

She bowed her head for a moment to compose herself and be sure that her face would not show her curiosity.

"Mass will now be observed."

"In Duty to His will and our Purpose, we are Sanctified. We serve God with our Blood until our final Death." She held up the cup of human blood. "As the Blood of Christ awakened Longinus to his evil and his Purpose, may this blood strengthen us as we strive to keep the herd off the path to Damnation.”

"Come, drink, and know your Purpose."

And each of them came up to drink, most with faces full of resolve and eyes full of Purpose. Her Prince came at the end of the line with an unreadable expression. When he took the cup from her hands to drink, he did it with uncharacteristic gentleness.

She quickly downed all the blood left in the cup and put it down. She tried not to let any of them see the depth of the breath she took before she spoke again.

"This next is one of the sacred Ritae of the Longinian Church. Only those who are part of the Church may participate in it, though laymen of the Faith may remain to observe if they wish. If there are any here who would be anointed the Church, let that creature step forward.”

She put the cup aside, turned, and then let them all become able to see the large bowl that with sides cut out to look like flames.

And then she revealed the six silvered pitchers of oil one by one from seemingly nowhere until there are 6 pitchers.

"I have called the Faithful here tonight so that any who have developed great conviction of Faith may test themselves with the Anointing by Fire."

She thought of Faithful Lords, those Damned with Fortitude and Will, and poured the cedar oil from the first pitcher into the bowl.

"As we come together in Purpose this Saint Delilah's Night, we pray that our faces shall be writ with proof of faith in our Divine Purpose." She thought of Faithful Savages who were Damned of Beast and Earth, and poured the myrrh oil from the second pitcher into the bowl.

"We pray that our devotion strengthens us in the face of our enemies." She thought of Faithful Haunts, the Damned of Horror and Darkness, and poured the cinnamon oil from the third pitcher into the bowl.

"Around this Fire tonight, we prove that our faith is so strong it becomes as armor." She thought of Faithful Shadows who were Damned of Sight and Swiftness, and poured rosemary oil from the fourth pitcher into the bowl.

"Tonight each of we Brothers and Sisters here have a way to prove our faith in a trial by fire." She thought of Faithful Succubi, Damned of Sin and Countenance, and poured rose oil from the fifth pitcher into the bowl.

"Around this Fire tonight, we become more than the sum of our parts as we are unified in out Faith and our Purpose as Damned creatures." She thought of the Church of Longinus, the entire body of Faithful which was far more than the sum of its parts, and upended the last pitcher of citrus oil into the bowl.

Around this Fire tonight we are the Grandeur; We are Sanctified!"

Steeling herself against the Beast, she revealed a piece of flint in her hand with a flourish, and struck it on the side of the bowl.

As she called the Faithful who would be tested to come forward, a kind of peace came to her.
kaoniki: (Default)
He said she had been different before. Well, what had he expected in over 350 years?

Then he said that perhaps she truly did watch too much television. Well, she certainly had drank too much lacrima that night.

Was it true? Had she become excessive? No that's her son...but he was gone. Too frequently, she was getting ideas that seemed not to come from herself.

Well, it was time for some new influences. Some new things that were not television to take, perhaps, to excess.

The computer was such a marvel. It would help her access another form of media, one much older than moving pictures transmitted into a box.

Music. Modern music. She would start halfway through the twentieth century, and go from there. And, since music didn't require visual attention, she could make the gifts while she was learning...or was that being influenced...
kaoniki: (Default)

Some of you have been defriended.

I don't write here much, and I don't read here much either.

Maybe it's OOC stress.

Maybe the creative writing mojo is drying up.

Maybe it's just me being more private with things in general, and deciding to be more private here as well.

Anyway, this character has stepped back, and I find that I am too.

Nothing personal, mostly just me and my problems, which I don't want to talk about. I find that talking is something that happens less and less with the exception of trivial things. I'm more comfortable that way. TMI is becoming more and more rampant in our society, and I think sharing is something that should happen in person...or at least on the phone.

Even lots of you who have known me for years don't know me well...which is my right and my choice.


Dec. 23rd, 2010 05:01 pm
kaoniki: (Default)
All OOC:

I had this character step down as Prince because of some very seriously upsetting OOC events in my life which have nothing to do with the game, the org, or anyone in either.

These are very personal and nothing that I feel comfortable discussing with anyone except my husband and a couple of extremely close friends.

There have been times where other people I know have done in-game things for similar reasons.

I hope everyone is as considerate to me as I was to those folks. It isn't often I hold others to my own standards of kindness, but it's become necessary to ask just now.

Please, don't get angry, demand to know the details to see if they are "good enough", or harass my husband for information.

Drama should be kept IC, and the first "P" in "PvP" is the one in "PC" not the one in "Player".
kaoniki: (Default)
It was an old memory, but very valuable.

Kaoniki is on the roof of a building, on the roof of a church. Her movements are as stealthy as a hunter in the woods.

She creeps closer and closer to the edge of the roof, and hangs by her legs with her head down toward the ground. She is next to a window, and there's a voice from inside. It's Prince Lafayette.

“And there went out another horse that was red; and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another; and there was given unto him a great sword.”

Revelations? This Kindred Word of Longinus is from the book of Revelations? If that's all it is then why won't he let me hear it?

"The True Church has a Holy Crusade, Brothers and Sisters; Crusade against Savages and Heathens! We are Faithful, we are Strong and we will stamp them out like worms ground underfoot!"

It had snowed that day, and her legs started to slip. She tried to pull herself up, but it was no use; she was overbalanced and gravity was not in her favor. She could hear pews creaking, the Mass was letting out.

She could let herself hit the ground and then merge with it, but what if someone heard? Martin had insisted this was a very bad idea...and he was inside with the rest of them. There was no way he'd be able to help her out of this mess. She could feel her legs slip even more.

Get me out of this...if only I could vanish...

And then she fell, but instead of hitting the ground, she soared into the air on leathery wings for the very first time.


She looked down and saw Jarvis walking along the side of the church over the exact spot she would have hit the ground.

Well, no. She didn’t really see him. She heard him, was hearing where he was. Heard him? How was that possible? Of course. The bats she’d ridden with saw with sound.

She hit a tree and then her small papery body fell into a pile of pine needles.

Ok, just launch.

But of course, she couldn’t launch from the ground, no matter how she tried. Bats were gliders, they needed height to start with.

Lovely. Now I shall have to climb this tree.

She flexed the claws at the bend in her wings. They weren’t much help moving her along the ground, so she added effort from the back set of claws.

Like a rabbit. Good Lord, I hope no one steps on me, and that I can actually climb a tree with such small claws. Go little bat-rabbit go. Ugh.

There was a wall of bark in front of her, and she saw that climbing wouldn’t be all that hard. Sure it was steep, but there were plenty of ridges in the bark to hold on to and she was light. She could hear all the ridges, and that was still very distracting to contemplate. She could smell insects living in the tree. Her eyes were nearly useless.

She made a mistake again and tried to pull with the wing claws.

Push, not pull. Horses rearing. Rabbit climbing a hill. Cat leaping.

This time it worked. She was using the back legs for power and the wing claws to keep from falling backwards off the tree. The climb went faster and easier than she had imagined it would.

There was another smell. A warm, powdery, dangerous smell. But there was no noise, so she continued concentrating on the climb.

She squeaked at the ground; was it far enough to drop into flight from? Close, but not quite. She squeaked up, and there it was…

Something large and soft above her in the tree. A creaking noise as its talons gripped the branch. A wave of instinctual fear.

An owl. He was so big. Why had she never noticed how big owls could be? Why wasn’t he fleeing from her Beast?

She squeaked again. A nest. A she-owl, then. She’d stumbled upon one of the few mundane creatures that would still attack her; a mother defending its young.

Amazing luck you have here, Little Raccoon. Wrong night, wrong tree.

The bat sighed. Three more inches would ensure safe launch, but getting any closer to the owl was too dangerous. Well, probably too dangerous for the owl and its young and not her…

She launched from where she was, hearing a warning screech from behind her. If she fell again, she would crawl to a different tree.

But she didn’t fall, her arms…no her wings, were holding her on top of the air. She started losing altitude…

Flap, idiot girl. It’s what wings are for.

She was surprised at first that the wings felt less powerful than the legs, but then she remembered that mundane bats slept while hanging from those legs. And she was realizing that she had to use them also to help change course.

She almost hit another tree again. She was forgetting to squeak to navigate, and she should probably get above the tree-line. Nothing in the air would bother her besides another shifted Gangrel, and none of those were her enemies.

I shall have to land. Land this time, not crash.

She looked around for a likely tree. Once she found one, she circled, thinking.

Hmmm. Use the wings to land and the feet to perch. Go for a branch. Expect to…well no. Expect nothing. Oh. Check for owls this time, little fool.

She squeaked at the tree. No owls. No other larger animals either. She tilted her wings downward aiming for a high branch.

How do I slow down?

She had to make a few passes; turning and gliding more than flapping worked for slowing down. The hind legs gripped the branch, and then she found herself unexpectedly upside down. It was strangely comfortable, far more so than hanging from the church roof had been in her human-shape.

Being a bat isn’t as easy as it looks. Going along with one is even easier than being one. Now I shall have to shift back…but it would be better to get on top of the branch.

She squeaked below her, and noticed another branch just below her. She let go of the branch she was clinging to, and dropped down to the next. This one was slightly wider. She had stretched herself parallel with the branch, lying along it instead of gripping it.

Now why is branch width important?

She concentrated on her human-shape, how it felt to have arms with no wing webbing on them, to have legs longer than her torso, to have an abundance of hair on top of her head.

She could feel her legs growing and her arms thickening. Her eyesight became much clearer and her hearing and sense of smell dulled. Her bones and teeth thickened and hair spilled down shoulders that had more restricted movement.

And then there was a sound like breaking wood.

Branch width. Damn it.

She was falling, but not for long. She caught a lower branch, pulling herself up to sit on it.

There was more thought involved in taking another form than she would have imagined…
kaoniki: (Default)
She was on the floor, laughing.

She had upended the laptop, and knocked some of the cushions out from under the desk with her feet.

Gasping although she didn't need to, a word could have been discerned if anyone had been listening.

"C...c...co...cougar!" Her fist thumped the floor a few times.

A small scaly head led the rest of the snake's body across the geometric patterned floor mat as the small creature moved away from the noise and the movement.

"No...no. Wrong animal, but closer than you think, Harpy."

She managed to sit up, and righted the tipped-over computer.

She shook her head, a cascade of jet black strands cascading down her back as the tie fell out of her hair.

"Yes. He could have been a comedian. Or perhaps on that mortal food channel..." She giggled again, then sighed and tried to make her features more serious.

Monsters could certainly be amusing...and amused, once they accepted themselves for what they were.

She looked over at the still undelivered package, became serious very quickly, and decided to go try some target practice with the new sketches.
kaoniki: (Default)
This is what the ventrilo would have sounded like if the Death Bear encounter at the Dig Site had been a WoW dungeon...

Obviously Carissa is our raid leader, but things go horribly wrong...

Carissa: Ok, Darwin, you misdirect the boss to Kaoniki, Ok?

Darwin: Sure thing. MD to the tank, gotcha.

Carissa: Julius, the melee DPS should get behind the boss.

Julius: Dude, I can tank this. Stayin in front.

Christine: Shut up and listen to the raid leader, OMG.

Carissa: No you can't, you're a Rogue. Go back-stab something. Let's buff up.

Julius: Aww, shoulda leveled a Pally...

Kaoniki: Donovan, WTF, I don't need an Int boost, I'm a Death Knight.

Donovan: Sorry, you said buff up...it buffs everyone.

Julius: Just pull already, geez!

Darwin: OK. MD going now.

Donovan: Hey, I never had this buff before...

Kaoniki: Onoes!

Julius: LOL Huntards.

Christine: OMG...

Donovan: Holy shit! The boss one-shotted me!

Carissa: Darwin, why did you MD to the Mage?

Darwin: Oh crap, sorry. I think my F4 key is busted...

Christine: Sorry guys, dropping group. Gotta go...um, make a sandwich...or something...

Kaoniki: Julius, GTFO! I'm trying to tank!

Carissa: Darwin, try MD again.

Julius: Holy shit! The boss almost one-shotted me!

Darwin: Oops. Guess my F3 key is busted too.

Kaoniki: He resisted the fear on my D&D...and my taunt...

Darwin: Um...guys? I have aggro...

Kaoniki: Feign Death, Darwin! Feign Death!!!!11!!1!!one!1!!!!

Carissa: Just. Just get in the car. We're wiping. Bring the Mage and just get in the car.

Darwin: FD on cooldown...sorry guys...can't make it to the car.

Julius: Heh. Topped the DPS charts.
kaoniki: (Default)
He is dead and gone, lady,
He is dead and gone;
At his head a grass-green turf,
At his heels a stone.
White his shroud as the mountain snow,
Larded with sweet flowers
Which bewept to the grave did go
With true-love showers.

There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.
O, you must wear your rue with a difference.
I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father

For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy
And will he not come again?
And will he not come again?

I hope all will be well. We must be patient: but I
cannot choose but weep.


Mar. 15th, 2010 02:40 pm
kaoniki: (Default)

I am looking for Kaoniki childer or people who want to avus into the bloodline.


Basically you get Obfuscate in clan. Themes since the line has been in play include "with great power comes great responsibility", the struggle to maintain humanity even while being strong enough to protect, and personal freedom vs. freedom for society.

Send an e mail if you're interested. perryd22 at gmail dot com.

kaoniki: (Default)
She stumbled a bit, and though she had only woken an hour before she felt very tired. She knew that her face was streaked with ash, and she wondered what color her eyes were now. She knew the watcher was there, and knew that he did not know that if he tried to stop her, it was one of the only ways that she could harm him.

Cradled in her arms was a tattered cowl. Her father's.

She dropped to her knees in the spot where Elauwit had spilled his blood years before to make this an Elysium. The watcher sat beside her and tentatively put his arm over her shoulders. She leaned against him and spoke the words from a place of more comfort than she could have imagined possible with all her childer dead and gone.

She spoke in the Old Language, a supplication to the Great Spirit. She knew that he knew that tongue, and she felt that the presence of this one was a blessing and a privilege. She faced East.

"Great Spirit, Great Spirit, My Grandfather,
All over the earth the faces of living things are all alike. . .
Look upon these faces of children without number
And with children in their arms,
That they may face the winds and
Walk the good road to the day of quiet. . .

There is no death. . .
Only a change of worlds. . .
Only a change of worlds."

She reached across her body to the shoulder of her outer dress and
pulled sharply downward, tearing it. She faced South.

"There is no death. . .
Only a change of worlds. . .
Only a change of worlds."

She repeated the previous motion on the other side. She wouldn't have been concerned about modesty in front of this man anyway, but thought perhaps that he would be glad of the gauzy under-dress at a time like this. She faced West.

"There is no death. . .
Only a change of worlds. . .
Only a change of worlds."

This time, she reached back with one claw and cut her braid. The
claw retracted as soon as the hair was cut. She faced North.

"There is no death. . .
Only a change of worlds. . .
Only a change of worlds."

She rose, and began to dance the Farewell.

Once finished, she sat back down again, next to her watcher
and repeated,

"There is no death. . .
Only a change of worlds. . .
Only a change of worlds."

She folded the cowl that had so long covered the shoulders she'd leaned on for most of her existence, and held it in her lap. Then, she leaned on his shoulder again weeping silently. Her body warms, and she started to feel the cool of the air and the fine mist of drizzle on her skin. She wanted to feel everything she could about being here on this night after doing the one thing in all the world she had hoped never to have to do.

And he held her in his arms in silence. And she could feel time passing too slow, too fast.

"I don't know how you knew or why you're here...but thank you."

She twined her hand into one of his, and he nodded and held her closer. He placed one hand on the ground and closed his eyes. The faintest traces of ash danced away from his turned face. After the ash left his face, she kissed him chastely but lovingly on the cheek.

Seconds into minutes into hours they sat that way, the only words he spoke were that she should go into the ground, and she knew that he had thought she might have stayed out on purpose, and that this was the closest he would likely ever come to saying the only thing that the razors told her which was worth the pain.

"I shall sleep. Thank you; I love you. He knew that." And she let the most peaceful earth she had ever known take her under where she would not have to feel pain nor love nor loss for another 8 hours at least.
kaoniki: (Default)
As she moved through the bar, she remembered that night almost a year ago...

She and her cousin had gone to the park.  There were teenagers there, clearly inebriated, and so they did God's Work and fed from them...

Read more... )
kaoniki: (Default)
"This is a story about some of the things that can happen to us nightwalkers when we have slept for some time. It is also the story of a daywalker, who did his best to educate his nightwalker friend in the modern ways.

"The daywalker's name was Pierce, and he was both brave and intelligent. His aptitude with languages was a great comfort to the nightwalker he was helping. Pierce showed her the moving picture box, and the electric lights, and also the water which comes from pipes. He showed her the bicycle and the automobile, the shoes with wheels and though she could not master the use of these, at least they would not startle her when she saw them.

"Pierce even showed her the machines that the mortals cook food with, though she would never have use for them herself. He taught her the language of the English which had become the language of the Americans and which she had forgotten. All of this he did because he was a good daywalker who wanted to become a nightwalker himself some night.

"He showed her the chairs that the new people sat in and the tables and the new floors that were not just earth covered with mats or straw or plain wooden boards. Some of the floors were tile or plastic or polished wood, but some of the floors were carpets and the nightwalker found these strange. She told Pierce that she avoided them because walking on them felt like walking on a deep pile of leaves, and they laughed together at this. This new carpet was not like a woven rug, which was as warm but flat enough to feel the floor beneath.

"Now, the nightwalker slept under the earth floor of the under level of the house, which Pierce told her was called a "basement". Every night she would wake up and go up the stairs and sometimes she would stop at the edge of the carpet room wondering how it ever became clean when it could not be taken up and beaten outside like a woven rug. The new nights were so full of other things for her to learn about that this question was never asked.

"The nightwalker loved the moving picture box. It helped her speak the American English, and sometimes it would show her things that had happened while she had been sleeping. In this way, she learned about the Vietnam War and the Cold War, and she learned that the Manhattan's old land was called "New York City", though sometimes she mistakenly called it "The New City of York".

"Pierce showed the nightwalker things called movies, which were story pictures made up by mortal people. She thought they were much more exciting than books which had been made up, except for the old plays she had read by William Shakespeare. And then she learned that there were movies of Shakespeare and so he showed her many of those.

"Eventually, the nightwalker wanted to learn for herself how to use the moving picture box, and so Pierce taught her. And she would wake sometimes and cross that dead-leaf-pile feeling carpet just so she could watch the pictures. And she would sit on the floor in front of the long and too-soft seat called a sofa because she liked the floor better, and sometimes she would startle Pierce because the picture box was on but he could not see her behind that sofa.

"One night, the nightwalker woke and as she was climbing the stairs she heard a terrible noise. It sounded like a wind was blowing the house down from inside, and she grew very frightened for her daywalker as a mother bear might be for her cub. She steeled herself and broke open the door from the basement and she rushed forward to attack the thing Pierce was struggling with.

"It was a loud and smelled like lightning and dust and there was a light on one side of it and it had a long black scaly tail with which it had assaulted the wall. It had a snake-like neck and a narrow black mouth that put her in mind of leeches. The noise was coming from the body but most especially the mouth. Pierce had it by the throat and was pushing its head to the floor.

"When she saw that it had a mouth she decided that she would get inside it and then reform and attack its guts, and so she ran forward and turned into a mist and went straight for the thing's mouth. When she found herself inside the creature's belly, however, her mist-self was so stirred by the winds inside that she could not take her usual form again.

"Through the noise, she could hear Pierce shouting something and then the noise and the wind stopped. She became flesh immediately and eviscerated the beast with her claws. "The wind beast will trouble you no more!" she cried.

"As she got up from the carpet, she noticed that she was covered with dust, and that Pierce was laughing. He explained to her that this was not a wind beast, but a vack-yoom which was made by mortals to clean carpets that could not be taken outside and beaten to get rid of dirt.

"And the nightwalker laughed with him and used the water from pipes so that she could go with him to a place which sold a new one of these machines and learn more about where they came from.

"The nightwalker wrote all of this down, so that the next time she woke she would remember to be patient with new ways and new people. She learned from her daywalker all of these new things, but also that to truly understand she must be able to laugh even at herself and even if she thought she faced death. And so she sought the Prince's consent and Pierce became a nightwalker and went on to make his night-family proud of him many times over."
kaoniki: (Default)
The Archbishop woke that evening and found herself alone. She hadn't realized she would miss sharing a house with her little brother after his convalescence. The empty bed and missing her husband she'd gotten used to years before; it made her look forward to the nights when it was shared.

The Nutiket checked on the investigation. There was something wrong with her dead childe's friend and she wasn't going to let it kill him.

And she saw that Darwin was nearly as prodigal as Pierce had been. He had found them, the Abenaki people, and their connection to the Kindred of the colonies.

And that night, her trial by fire and blood and ash, it rushed back to her. Her vision was ringed in red as she told the story for the second time, the story of the night that sent her into the Great Sleep from which Martin had failed to wake her.

And her head cleared for a moment before she sent the whole bloody lot of it. She edited away most of it, leaving only a hint of the horror, along with some names and dates. And the parallels of course. That was what the youngster truly needed uncovered.

The woman went into the kitchen, braiding her hair. The sink was bigger there, easier to catch the ashes. Cutting the braid at the nape of her neck, she was hardly aware that she whispered "never forget you...never", and thought of the past while she prepared to protect the present.


Mar. 6th, 2006 08:46 pm
kaoniki: (Default)
I know I have posted playlists and songs for characters, but what do you think?

Anyone have any ideas? Songs for this character?
kaoniki: (Default)
Found out relative of dear friend is dead.

Was EXTREMELY pissed.


Oct. 5th, 2005 09:13 pm
kaoniki: (Default)
Standing completely still was boring. The windows were open, he said, because the humidity in the air caused the paint to dry more slowly. She would like nothing better than to bare her fangs at him, to see the feeling in the work transmute from beauty to terror. This man, however, was not a lost sheep to be frightened back to the flock. This man was, like the others she posed for, a means to an end.

At least she found this new style of painting amusing. She had never seen the creation of abstract paintings before. The fact that she was being given money in order for a likeness to be created of her which would be completely unrecognizable to all but herself and the artist was farcical.

The best part of all this was that there was no way anyone could believe there would be a masquerade breach. Her smile grew broader at this and the painter frowned, telling her to let her features assume the posture they had previously held. She complied, continuing to laugh on the inside.
kaoniki: (Default)
She had the haven to herself, and after the time spent in Boston with His Eminence, it was a relief, like taking her hair down. She slept in the bed, and it felt so empty. Only one-third of her had any trouble with this...In Dreams )

She woke alone in a blood sweat, slipped off the bed and on to her knees and she began to pray.

"Oh Lord, what have I done that only part of me remembers?"
kaoniki: (Default)
-Find other Gangrel. Scoff because you wash and can think.

-Discuss philosophy and religion with creatures from 4 compass points.

-Take perfection to a new level when making a grand exit.

-Collect admirers.

-Conduct an investigation successfully without breaking Elysium rules.

-Pray and prey. Pray for enlightenment, prey for The Plan.

-Be the best example. Ever. And be told so by many.

-Observe the social floundering of those who believe they are your betters.

-Make your own productivity where others fail to do so.

-Plot to make others regret ignoring you as a potential ally.

-Practice espousing Longinian theory. It is never too early to impress an elder...

-Toy with the hearts of Ventrue Dragons wearing the male form.

-Let yourself out to play. Let yourself out to think. Let yourself out to scheme.

-Enjoy the freedom that being out of blood sympathy range provides.

-Intrigue, and be intrigued.
kaoniki: (Default)
After Aidan left the room, she tried to engage herself with the group's discussion. It was difficult. Her beast wanted to take over, the part of herself that would not feel but inflict hurt on others as an expression of this pain. Her ghost wanted to take over, the part of herself that would say or do anything as an escape from boredom. She managed somehow to retain control, although it cost her much, and she grew steadily more tired as the evening went on.
Illusion or Elusive? )
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