It was late, and Ceri was circling in raven form, watching the park. Nicolette was arriving soon, and her blood stirred at the thought of seeing her lover again. As she swooped down into the park, to a tree, she noticed something in the shadows, and then heard the sound of sirens, and cars. Gaining height, she checked the cars, and her heart went cold.

Little Hawk remembers....
what it was to be protected,
and to protect others...

That car. That was the model they used. Grey, smooth, unobtrusive. And... oh lady. There was another one. Heading for where Nicolette was meant to be. And another. Circling. Like sharks.

She had to warn her. She flew.

Little Hawk remembers....
the nature of hunger

The smell of fresh blood hit her long before she saw her. And him, obviously woozy from blood loss. Not dead, but close to collaspe. Nicolette must be been hungry.

Sweeping back to the shadows, she takes a closer look at her lover feeding, and instead of waiting, she swooped at the pair, separating them. Nicolette, upon seeing the raven circling her, agitated, followed her, leaving the man leaning against the tree. As they fled, the raven leading Nicolette through the trees, they both heard the man pull out a phone and speak quickly.

"APB Centenary Park, rogue hostile... attack, and unknown intervention."

Once out of sight of the man, Ceri shifts to human, and Nicolette throws herself into her arms. Confusion on her face, she begins to ask what happened, what is wrong. Ceri kisses her and hugs her tightly and speaks in a whisper.

Gwynefar remembers...
the nature of desire...
the taste of an elders blood,
and his fangs in her...

"You have to get out of here love, those folk are trouble. I'm sorry I did not warn you what you were coming into. Go to this address, don't let anyone see you, and see Dominic. He's a good one and can help." She hugs her again, and both of them hear the sirens coming, and she glances up and then back to Nicolette. "I am going to buy you some time, so you can get clear of them. For that, I need a favour…" Softly she whispers into Nicolette's ear, who looks shocked an looks at Ceri, and then nods quietly, her eyes filled with … something. Ceri casts softly, and then lowers her mouth to her lover's throat, shaking slightly as memory of the last time she tasted kindred blood flicks through her mind. His blood was older, stronger, but his skin was as cold as frost. Nicolette is warmer. The feeding only takes a moment, both of them dropping to the earth, as their respective addictions struggle for purchase, denied by their will.

The ritual is complete. Ceri now the mirror image of Nicolette takes her coat and removes a flower from her hair. She offers it the stunned Nicolette, who is gaping at what appears to be a perfect replica of herself. Ceri laughs a little, her throaty rasp odd. "We swap clothes now, hurry."

Nicolette eats the flower and a flush of blood comes to her cheeks. She looks human, now, and Ceri's clothes hang wrong on her frame. But she looks different, and that may get her out. She looks at the card with Dominic's address on it, and flees into the dark. At one point she turns, looking back at her lover, herself, who stands there, and whispers across the distance, "I love you". As the human Nici runs, Ceri concentrate for a moment. Her blood becomes poison, her heart harder to stake. Then she turns into the park towards the sirens and lets them catch sight of her, and the hunt is on.

Ceridwyn remembers....
the nature of love....
'Oh Nicolette I am so sorry for leaving you...'

She's runs slow enough for them to follow, leading them away from Nici's path. She cuts down towards the lakes, heading out towards Queens park and just beyond it, Waverley. The cars and those on foot race to intercept, falling for the diversion. She dashes into the trees, switches to Owl, and flies, but does not lose them. Shots wing past her, and take out a wing, dropping her back to the ground, where she shifts again, burning through blood to repair the damage. They are good, and she realises that they are quite able to keep up with her, and she ducks into a corner, slits her palm so she bleeds over her hand and continues running. One of them catches up and goes to stake, but the stake disolves, and Ceri turns, the bloodied hand touching his chest. He collapses, paralysed, and she keeps running. Almost at Waverley Cemetary, near the temple.

She spurs herself on, turning into the gates, under a hail of shots. They are flanking her now, and she dashes out of sight for a moment behind a crypt, and goes to mist, flowing over the ground to the edge of the cliff. And there, they catch her. She goes back to human, dropping Nici's mask to appear as herself. Several of them start, jumping to the conclusion that it was Ceri all along. She smiles as the ruse works. One of them goes to finish the job, but another says quietly "No. Not yet." He looks east, and Ceri knows what he's looking at, she can feel it, the sun coming, as the cemetary lightens for the coming day.

Little Hawk remembers...
The nature of of faith
Honor and family first last and always...

He remains there, on guard, all of them hemming her in, knowing that she will either have to fight her way out, or go off the cliff, and either act would torpor her, leaving her at the sun's mercy. Realising she's almost out of time, she speaks to him.

"All of you are effective. And as the condemned, I would like a final request." The words make a few look surprised, like 'she's not going to fight her way out?'. They clutch their weapons closer, suspecting a trick.

"What is it? Why should we listen to you?"

"Because this will do you a favour too. At this address there is a cell of what we call the Brood." Most of them look confused, but one man, tall and tattooed, starts and looks at her.

"The Brood. We can not help that we are not... human, but they take joy in being savage. They are the monsters you fear, not us." He stands impassive, staring at her. The other gaurds are beginning to fidget. A safety clicks. She must make them see.

"Destroy them. Do it now before they really turn on this city. Do it while you can." She speaks to him and only him. "Those of Belial's Brood make us look nice, and you do not want that scourge on your city.It will finish something I was unable to. Please." She pours herself into her plea, heart and soul and all the charm she has ever had.


All three, Little Hawk, Gwynefar, Ceridwyn....
Maid, Mother, Crone....
Remember the task the Ravenscarred are charged with...
"End it for me.... Please"

He nods, almost imperceptably and backs away. Ceri smiles, and this more than anything before disturbs the men. They charge.

She won't kill. She stuns, she claws, she tries to avoid hurting them by accident but there is just too many and her feet slip on on the limbs of the unconcious ones. She sees the tattooed man backing away, not fighting her. And them someone sets off a flare and all she can see is red fire before her. And behind her as the sun rises fast.

Honour, Loyalty, Love

As the first rays come over the horizon, several things happen at once; and Ceri turns, leaping for the air as she wills the last of her blood to the form of a raven.

Little Hawk remembers Dominion
"I am sorry my mother"
Gwynefar remembers Vittorio
"Goodbye my father"
Ceridwyn remembers Nicolette
"I will love you always"

Climbing into the sky, the rays hit her over the ocean, and then ash sprinkles the water.

Give him a feather... the task charged from a ravenscarred

A raven feather lands softly, drifting into the tattooed arms. He goes to brush it away, hesitates, and then slips it into his pocket.

I have finally unlocked all the writing I did for Ceridwyn, and indexed it.

For your interest.

Historical Meeting Vittorio- 1809 Ceridwyns mortal father – 1810 With Vittorio, France 1813 Fallout, falling, and control – 1813 A temper tantrum - 1815 Descent into Hell - 1818 In hell - 1818 Escape – 1819 Embrace - 1825 Lessons with Dominion - 1825 Song meme - Meeting Kincaid - 1875 Hunting brood and meeting Charli - 1952

Chronicle events Running – Oct 2006 Dreaming - Nov 2006 Home and memories - Nov 2006 Heaven and Hell - Nov 2006 Loyalty and Politics - Nov 2006 Music - Nov 2006 Journey to Perth - 23 Nov 2006 On the Train - 24 Nov 2006 On the train part 2 - 24 Nov 2006 Racing the sun – 25 Nov 2006 Things you should not do – Perth, 25 Nov 2006 A debate (headspace post) 25 Nov 2006 Legacies – Nicolette and Ceridwyn – Dec 2006 Mortality, and immortality – Christmas Eve 2006 Unity - Jan 2007 Song meme, The Inquisitrix - Jan 2007 Goodbye to the Inquisitrix – Feb 2007 Loss of community - April 2007 Ravenscarred – June 2007 Return to Aust, and the start of the search – Sept 2007 Facing your Vice - Dec 2007 This is how I pray – Dec 2007 Meeting the Hermes - Dec 2007 A new Tribulation - Summer Solstice Dec 2007 On the Rack - Summer solstice Dec 2007 Loss of Faith - Torpor – 8 Jan 2008 Torpor dreams - Jan 2008 Torpor - Dreaming of Faith – March 2008 An agonising return - Revival – 9 March 2008 The Underworld - 9 March 2008 A meeting with the prince – March 2008 The beast unchained – March 2008

Last post – 13 May 2008
- Coming subject to ST call -
A post to Aus-gangrel.

In the earth, surrounded by bush, deep in a ravine, Ceri lays
dreaming. This is not a coherant dream, but madness, loss of faith,
flowing like ribbons of blood that she craves with an ecstacy that is
frightening. She feels stronger now, and darkness gathers, black birds
circling, the horror and strength of her family, of Her, screams
around her. In the dark, she turns from the wise, in control Acolyte,
to a ravening monster, no faith, nothing to hold back that rage and

Abruptly it stops, strangled into submission.

The eyes that peer out at you are those of someone whose entire faith
and belief is gone - nothing is holding in the rage. To anyone who
knows Ceri, its a stark and frightening sight.

She does not speak, and then is gone.
OOC. Another warning. Use this and its cheating. That includes if you know she's awake, if you know she's talking to Aaron, and anything else. Important, given the current state of play and ic politics.

Read more... )
Becuase it feels like a Gangrel song. Or a family song.

"Why is the Khovros ordering us around? Standing before her? Shes' our covenant mate and we need to get her out of here."

"NO. She needs to remain."

Ceri stood, her mind scattered in peices at the events. Emotions flooded her like the blood she'd taken from Ambia, and she recalled Khovros stepping between her and Red, placing himself as her guard. An open declaration.

If her heart had beat it would have stopped at that moment. Becuase it made it all perfectly clear.

You are his property. You sacrificed everything to him in the simple act of baring your throat. He tamed and collared a Gangrel without blood, without sex, without.... Oh what have i done....

The realisation of her heart was like dying. Later, Aaron summoned her, and talked with her. He was worried. He'd spotted enough, and warned her about the Invictus elder, and she bent her head and said it was too late.

It was. Becuase even without a blood bond she gambled her heart and finally understood how broken she was, after Vitorrio, and the Khovros.

Red talked to her, and in that talk Ceri saw a glimpse of a direction, a way out. To take the darkness of the underworld, and learn from it, a place in her faith she'd not trod for a long time.
ooc. Standard disclaimer - use this, you loose it.

Red/black eyes look into each other’s in the dark….

Hai, how you doin'?

Ceri stirs faintly.

'I miss you'

'I love you and miss you, too. I hope you're safe.'

'He’s ... not feeding me the way I... need it'

'Come back to me, then, and we'll show him. I love you, Lady, and I want to show you what Kincaid has taught me.'

'I can't .... stuck here.....'

'Have faith, have faith, my darling love, my Hierophant. We'll get you out. We'll bring you home'

Deep in the dark, Ceri lays on the stone, and wonders what happened to her faith, why it changed so much…. As she lay there, dreams flickering around her mind, she wondered at the ties between her faith and her family, and her actions and feelings for Khovros.

As she lay there, deep in the torpor, a kindred kneels beside her, pinning her to the stone, as he drips a single trait of vitae into her mouth….

And she is ripped from the dark embrace of her sleep, back into the body that had lain dead and still for months…..

And so hell begins again.
ooc. I nearly did not post this. Then i thought about it and decided i would, primarily it is reflecting a change in her spriritual attitudes that [ profile] angelsamael, [ profile] wayfarers_lodge, and [ profile] madame_latour might find interesting. Akuete in particular would giggle and kick her legs in the air with delight. Seeing quite a bit of this would have been seeds planted back when Ceri was living with her in Sedona....


She lay in the dark room, still as a corpse.

In her dreams she wandered the corridors of her torpor, fragments of her past floating past her…..

Read more... )

Ceri dreams, lying in the dark…..

…they’d been talking, the strange girl who had helped her in the bush, her target had tried to capture Ceri…. (flash back to the past - hell, mortal captive in the hands of monsters, sense of pain mixed up with pleasure) …. He had attacked, and stunned Charli so she crumpled to the floor…. Ceri leapt at him, but he caught her and threw her into the wall over the bed, she attacked again, her claws out, and he used his strength to pin her down, wriggling beneath him…. (flash back to the past – a mortal lying in kindred arms, body spread out like a feast, fangs in her flesh – sense of violation coupled with fear, but addiction too) …. He rips open her shirt and pounces for her throat, and begins to feed as the body beneath him stops struggling…. The word ‘nooooo’ sounds like a bell…..

The dreaming Ceri watches, looking at herself pinned by his mouth on her throat, sucking, Charli insensible on the floor…. There is an evil darkness in the room, black tendrils coalescing around him, as the blood runs out of her….

Everything slows down….

…. In slow motion Charli stirs….. he tightens his grip on the body as the blood runs out and her soul comes into sight….. the dreaming Ceri, watching the scene sees it hovering against his fangs…. The realization that he was going to eat her, sucked into that black mess of diablerie all around him… and Charli is moving fast, and strikes…….

The enemy dissolves to ash, and Charli cradles the torpid kindred in her arms, trembling slightly at what her sight had witnessed – that sickening black evilness with yet another soul between his teeth…
Copyright to both me and [ profile] charliegir1
Read more... )
ooc. It appears my muse is not done with Ceri yet. Regardless of whatever i decide. So therefore....

And remember, everything in my journal is ooc only. Anyone caught metagaming because i'm writing, will be lined up against a wall and shot. Got it? Good.

DANCING - Sometime in December

Ceridwyn had been sitting in the library, surrounded by books and tomes, reading when she was interrupted. She was so engrossed in the tome, turning pages carefully, making notes, coordinating a plan on how to deal with the contents of Natalia's haven, she missed the figure standing in the doorway, watching her every move. He'd hidden his beast, and appeared mortal to all intents and purposes. He was dressed incredibly well, a beautifully cut suit, black brushed bowler hat, the very figure of a successful man. She by contrast had long auburn/brown hair hanging down her back, a bright red tee shirt, and cargo pants, and bare feet. Her body was curved, and she moved fast, naturally impatient. As she read she muttered softly "Kincaid… I need that case….." and trailed off.

The figure in the doorway stepped into the room, clearing his throat, smiling. She looked up, on alert immediately and he closes on her, getting into her space, charm working overtime as he bows over her hand.

"Good evening Lady Hierophant, I am the Hermes." The words are as much a flourish as the bow. Ceri suppresses her amusement, only her lips quirking slightly, for a moment forgetting that her hand has remained in his.

A memory flashes across her mind… standing in a hotel room, Vittorio looking down at her, eyes filled with emotion as he saw his Gwynefar, and wrapped her in his arm after centuries apart….

She gestures him to a seat away from the desk, and sits herself, crossing her legs, all elegant grace, a change from her movements before as her mind segues from Ceri’s animalistic predator to the charming elegant young woman she was as a mortal.

The Hermes sits, smiling charmingly as he watches her, taking her measure, noting the changes. They talk, dancing around each other, testing defences, getting close. He enquires about her family, it is clear they are a force to be reckoned with, and she closes up, drawing back at the invasion. He steps back, noting her boundaries, weaknesses, strength, gathering information. The dance continues, and he leans into her, drawing closer as he speaks. She falls silent for a moment, her defences lowering, a look of recognition….

Flash across her mind, sitting at her dresser, wiping the blood from her mouth from where those men had hit her…. And then Vittorio, bending down to the drops of ruby liquid as his tongue snakes across her mouth, gathering the blood….

The memory is brutal in its intensity, packing a punch to her heart, and Ceri forces her defences back in place, as she smiles and chooses her next question.

"Why do you want this alliance?"

He answers, watching her reaction. She listens, thoughtfully, measuring each word, her expression neutral.

"That was your free question. Next one will cost you."

She smiles, her eyes lighting as the game comes into view. The verbal dance begins again, a tango this time, all control and deliberateness. They each win and loose some, a game of verbal chess, each look, flash of eyes, curl of lips, hand adding layers of meaning. As the meeting comes to an end, he stands and takes her hand, lips brushing her knuckles and notices the subtle shift to her body language.

After he leaves, she stands in the centre of the room, one hand to her mouth as the memory floated around her. Her ribs tighten, like a corset laced around her, held prisoner, and her eyes drift closed for a moment, memory of the two kindred colliding – lips stroking across her knuckles in a kiss, and a phantom mouth against the nape of her neck…

"Well… this alliance proposal will be interesting…." she trails off, sighing slightly "I really need that case of lacrima now, Kincaid…" She sits back down.
She lay in his arms, her body arched, throat bare. His arms held her close, one hand buried in her hair, as his mouth suckled at her throat, the scent of her blood filling their nostrils. She sighed in utter ecstasy, her body trembling as he fed, and as she grew cold he withdrew, his tongue snaking over her skin to close the wounds.

She lay still, letting the aftermath wash over her, and slowly rose from his arms. They spoke for several minutes, and then events drew them apart, as Ceri went to hunt. She went to her haven, wandered about, and finally, close to dawn made the decision.

She returned to the Lancaster estate, what little blood she had seriously depleted by her travel. Black crept around her vision, and she wrote a letter, placed it with the flower of Demeter on her bedside, and after showering and cleaning, drifted to sleep.

The moment she fell to torpor the Song in her blood winged its way around the world – in the US, her sire dreamed of a snap as her childe succumbed to the sleep….

Laying in the bed, in a white cotton dress, she lay, trusting he’d protect her till she was ready to face the world.

* * *

That night, the Khovros had been up for some time, and there had been no movement from Ceri’s rooms. Going to her room, he paused, when he saw the still figure in the bed. Beside it, a letter, and a flower in a glass of blood. He read it, and there was no reaction as he stood, looking down at the still figure. Only someone who knew him well, perhaps might have spotted the control in the stillness. Silently he leaves, gives instructions to several of his people, and later that night, lifts the limp body from the bed, and places her somewhere safe, till she is ready.

The End.

Ooc. Thank you to Ben for letting me keep Ceri in his care during my break.
Till further notice, i'm not playing Ceri. I might play her at the game next weekend. But the week in between, no scenes.

I'm back to considering retiring her. I don't see any other option.

If i do, I'm offering my STs the chance to end her on Saturday. Shes' not being made an NPC.

The period in between is .... a variation on the 24 hr rule. Its been too upsetting for me to make an easy decision.

I'm sorry.
Ceri sat in the window sill, her eyes dark with pain. In the next room, blood on the pillows betrayed her tears.

I cut this part out of me, to stay loyal to my faith, to my vow to Kincaid. To help my people here.

She curls her arms around herself, a slight tremble apparent.

So lonely… and he can’t be right… he just… can’t…

The tear tracks down her cheek.
....If you called the Crone your covenant and learned their dark magicks, then you done trafficked with demons.....

....From what I have been told and from what I have seen they forsake their humanity for whatever dark powers they posses.....

She kept herself under control long enough to get away from her computer, to change shape and fly to get to some woods. Not the Raven she usually chose, but the Owl of her history. Upon landing, she screamed the hate and pain and violence out, frightening birds out of the trees. As she did so, flickers crossed her mind....

she was chained to the stone as they performed the rite, carving into her limbs till she was screaming and covered in blood, her heart trying to break out of her chest as they enjoyed her body.... she fell into unconsciousness, only to wake in her cell, bandaged, stitched up, in agony

So much of her year in that cell was hidden from her, the crucible that turned her from the young lady who was the Inquisitrix's ward, to an instinctual feral child who would do anything to survive.

Traffic with Demons? thats no better than brood....

Ceri roared with hate, and shredded one of the trees, letting the red haze fall over her eyes and take her away from her mind. Finally, it was over, and she lay in a clearing, her eyes dark. For hours she lay, and in the end the only thing that made her move was the sense of dawn, light in the sky. It was almost up when she willed her blood to take her into the earth's embrace, protecting her.

When she woke that night, she understood. One way or the other, she had to sacrifice something, to keep her honor, and hope it did not destroy her heart.

"Oh, 'Rix, now I understand why you slept..."
She tossed and turned in her bed, the day sleep heavy upon her. The dream made her restless, the sense of thunder and rain in it, deep red passion, like blood, making her break out into a thin sheen of sweat. In the dream the sense of fear and lust became stronger, of silken bonds tying around her, stretching her out, leaving her open and vulnerable, her heart on her breast, her throat bare. The storm broke, torrential rain slamming down on her, soaking her clothes and skin and hair. Hands gripped her body, a hard kindred body sliding against her rain slick one, till his mouth reaches her throat. His lips caress, and just before biting down, a whisper echoes around them both –

This is how I pray….

And then the bliss of the kiss floods her body like the rain, leaving her as naked and exposed as the blood welling into his mouth.

Ceri wakes to the clap of thunder outside, and stares into the dark. The eyes are not the eyes of a kindred in control, but the eyes of a woman who sees utterly clearly how dangerous her attraction and desire is, and yet still cannot turn away.
Ceridwyn sat at the ornate desk, her back pressed against the straight backed chair. She wore draped silky top that exposed part of her back down to the top of the chair back, and a skirt in a similar fabric. Slowly she reread the content of her journal, the pen lying beside it.

I am now at Lancaster Estate, being looked after by Khovros. Dominion... she's trapped, and might be dead, along with several Invictus and a Cardinal... I was going to loose it... So i went to him and he brought me here....

I could say I want him so badly I can taste it... but thats actually not true. Becuase tasting him is not what i want. And Mother knows he tastes me often enough. What I want is the absolutely primal loss of control that comes with the total surrender of being in his bed. And he's too old for that. He might love me because of the ritual of feeding each week, but I doubt he remembers what it is to lie in a womans, or a mans, embrace.

I want to forget the heartbreak that will come if Dominion dies. I want to drown in my desire and hide in that place that will make me forget everything I think, except how much i Want.

Ceri reads, and for a moment the cool delicate touch of a kindred hand strokes up her spine to the nape of her neck, and the flower of demeter pinned there. She sighs softly, and shifts in her chair as the phantom touch goes away.

That thing that makes you rise each night, it is central to what keeps you going through your life, or your requiem. It makes you both great and terrible at once, for the things you will do in the name of love can be great, and can be terrible. In the end, it is most truly about sacrifice, and those things you give up, to protect the ones you love.


Loyalty… hmmm. An Invictus asking about an Acolyte’s view on loyalty. That’s funny.

Honor. Not breaking one’s word. But maybe the real question is … word to whom? Yourself? Your oaths?

Me, mine is to family. But that’s a whole other story…. *smiles*


*laughs* Pig headed. My family. Not quitters. Staying power. Survivalist. Yep, I think that covers it.
Ceri sat, staring out over the ocean. It was strange being here, so far away from family, that she could not feel them in her blood, tied together, all parts of each other. Ever since her return, and even before leaving, there had been the sense of her hand being guided, her faith, the testing from the Mother, meeting her old Hierophant, and then her family….

There were so many faiths and mythologies and beliefs all over the world, and Ceridwyn had studied. Now though, she found herself changing in the role she played in the cycle of the Mother, and a stronger sense of those 3 who wove the strands, and guided her down the paths she followed, was making itself felt.

We have a calling, she thought to herself, those of my family, to protect the people that cannot, and draw the balance back to where it should be…. I feel in my heart, or my beast, that I am being drawn somewhere else… to Be something else….. I cannot see the path, but I know its there, as surely as the sun sets and moon rises…

I feel it with every fibre of my being.

The weirdness infecting the city was gone. It had left, while she was away. No longer did she crave seducing someone, and now it was gone, looking back, her behavior made her uncomfortable. Especially the last….

His words flicked through her mind, and she tried not to shudder at the inference that because of what she’d done with Sam, she was easy, or a whore. A woman, or a body, to be used for no better reason than their pleasure. She had touched no one since that day. Avoided them all, even the Khovros, and spent days in animal form, hiding.

Oh Nici…. I miss you so much…..

She looks out over the sea, knowing something out there was calling.... Her mother, and the sea, in the sea, of the sea, was pulling her blood....

Tomorrow the quest begins.
Ceri's voicemail at present, from 14 September 2007.....

"Heya.... Off dodging the navy in search of an old woman.... leave a message at the 'caw'"

(sound of a raven's call instead of a beep)

leave me a message guys..... heheheehehe

This was an idea i got off [ profile] ravens_lair
His was quite priceless in its flippancy. :-)



March 2009

89101112 1314
15 161718192021


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 26th, 2017 05:24 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios