When does the spirit break, that a mind sits in darkness and despairs of the healing of its soul?
A wound so terrible that it seems insurmountable to heal this, to even understand it.
Time is the key they say, that with time and comfort and care all wounds are healed.

Ana wakes from the darkness, shuddering. She crawls out of bed, noticing the time as she heads for the kitchen.
5.09pm. Not sunset, that she knows.
Nightmares again. Even when she cannot remember them, she always knows when she has them. The feeling of cold, of something terrible hidden out of sight inside her mind.

Do you want to taste it? The words whisper in her mind. You are thirsty aren’t you? The words fill her memory, in a voice long despised. For a moment a flicker of memory lights up in her mind, of laying on the floor of a room, a figure crouched over her. Hate rages inside her, she wants to attack her, and at the same time she cannot. They have been feeding you my blood, little betrayer. You will not hate me for long. The words are whispered in an ancient tongue.
Tell me you’re thirsty, childe, and I will give you a drink.
Tell me you’re thirsty, little one.

She leaves the dark room, leaving her captive on the floor.
Days pass, the thirst increases, she grows weaker. The shadow comes back. One night when Ana wakes, the shadow is standing over her.
A finger brushes over her lips, parting them slightly, leaving a smear of liquid on her mouth. She is too weak to fight it, to even say anything. The liquid burns slightly, she can smell it.
Tell me you are hungry and I will feed you.
Ana cries, and tastes the drop on her mouth. I am hungry.
The shadow lowers her hand to Ana’s mouth, laughing a low, gutteral laugh. Then drink my little traitor. And as the blood begins to flow, she smiles. Her victory, her revenge, is only just begun.

This is cam writing, from a long time ago, but not that you could tell, from this. It would just be a horror story.

I"m leaving it unlocked because i think a few might be interested in the inspiration....

At the beginning of the Year of Fire in the old chronicle, Juliet, my Assamite and her schismatic counterparts, were attacked by a group of Loyalists. They included Xavier Greyson, but Juliet was marked by one of the others - there was a member of the Web of Knives there, and she was marked to be torpored only, and delivered to Melusine. I thought about the vengeance that the elder Warrior would have on the child she believed betrayed her, and it crossed my mind the greatest vengeance would be to remove her will utterly... hence the story. Its a lot more likely that Rach would have tortured her till she died - but thats less of an interesting story.

For the original meme, go here. http://raven-steps.livejournal.com/28674.html

This is for those players I miss so very much - Nick Crowhurst, Rach Hopkins, and all the other Assamite players and family members Juliet had such fun with.

Juliet – Family

She sits in the comfortable arm chair, looking out a window onto a sunlit field. Long black silken hair falls to her waist, smooth and straight, and her eyes, mercury grey to most, turn to a silver surface as she turns the word over in her mind.

“Family. Blood, love, honor, loyalty… community. Not always blood relations, but those ties that bind people together. What will you sacrifice for a member of your family to know or realize what they truly are? And what will you realize about yourself seen through the eyes of those you call family?”

She smiles, eyes shining as she recalls doing just that.

“Someone does not just stop being family if they break the rules or estrange themselves. This is not about decisions, wise or otherwise, nor just about actions.”

As she speaks, you see two phantom figures, seemingly sentient, watching. One is a man, small, delicately built, with old eyes, and epitomizing the ideal of loyalty and honor. The other is a woman, dark and forbidding, epitomizing the ideal of justice and vengeance. They both smile.

“The phrase blood is thicker than water comes to mind, but its not just blood. Its loyalty and love and community too. Both of these people were family, one by blood, the other by loyalty. Both of them taught me things about myself I’d never have found without them. And both of them I taught, for at the end of all things, I am the Guide to a healing path.”



March 2009

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