|
Post by Kunna Drakonis on Jul 16, 2010 15:37:32 GMT -7
The rush of cold air sprayed ocean water past her frame. It chilled to bones long since frozen in the eternal depths of hell. Salty on the tip of her tongue as she licked away droplets from numb lips, the blue expanse pressured it's ominous presence. The wind was picking up as well, ripping at the frayed hems of her black dress as it whipped around along the sand. But there was no sadness in that frame. None save the deep loss of connection to a single childe. Yet, the anguish stopped there, fading like a steep cliff into the air as it turned easily into a white rage of anger. She'd known for so long that the boy's convictions would soon take him from her, but to have them play the part of drug officer seemed just far fetched. How could she have been so damned ignorant to what was playing out before her?
Icy hues glanced up to the night sky with it's thick black storm clouds and flickering lightning that sizzled and cracked along their electrical paths. The pounding of thunder seemed to reverberate from her own skull as it exploded all around her. Pale fingertips went up to rub the faded gunshot wound at her temple. Kunna could still feel the bullet lodged in her brain. Her mind's eye saw that night clear as if it were happening again before her. The weakness, the third person view of the bar room high above, the gunshot that rang and echoed throughout the then silent room. A nightmare made of gunmetal gray and malkavian blood. Ever since, Abel and the others that had been there have been fighting off the images of her body splayed upon the tavern floor. Kunna cursed beneath her breath, though even had she screamed out the words, they'd only be muffled under the cracking of Thor's Hammer. It was quite pathetic how a simple headache could change the course of people's lives, be they living or undead.
Standing barefoot in the sand, a black mahogany box settled before her, Kunna stretched out her hands to the elements. Behind her, ebony aileron spread out wide in their expanse, while her head fell back and thick lashes closed against pale cheeks. The loss of a childe was always too much to bear on her soul, bringing her out to the high peaks of cliffs along the distant beach and the massive hurricane that would come crashing around, only mirroring how she felt inside. Within the chaos, the draconic woman would feel a steady beat of consciousness and peace. For moments of time, nothing but a lack of motion open to a watery hell calmed the roaring of fiery anger. And there Kunna would pray to the chaos and the calm and the Gods and Goddesses that tore forward into oblivion.
"Within my moment of peace, you ripped from me a sacred bond in my heart. Be they born of my womb or borne of my fang or born of my heart, they are mine. Not for you to take away like dead leaves in the wind." Thunder boomed across the ocean waves and lightning flashed. "Petition as you may but I won't take it any longer! I will rule my lineage my way without fear from you! No longer shall I tremble at thought of losing another that carries my blood or my affection. I'm taking control, here and now."
|
|
|
Post by Reyna on Jul 16, 2010 16:03:26 GMT -7
Water. The mere mention of the liquid could send a tingle of dread and irritation through her systems. She could see the compounds, the atoms and molecules that made it up. She knew how much the planet needed the substance, how creatures, sentient and not, needed it for survival. A gag rose in her throat as she watched from a safe distance, from before the sand started, let alone the raging ocean. The smell nearly burned her delicate nose, the salinity mixed with the scent of sand so unlike her home and that wet, dank sensation of a coming storm. From her vantage point, Reyna could see the thin silhouette of the other woman and she hesitated only briefly, the thunder causing a riotous rebellion in her head.
A curse on whatever had driven her to those bottles in that dingy tavern. A temporary reprieve, however, she knew from the images that chased her mind like hell hounds on the heels of a runaway sinner. The glint of the dull metal, Abel trying to take it away, then the moment that had etched itself into her brain matter for the rest of eternity. That one moment where time seemed to stand still as that instrument went to touch her mother’s head and the shot that reverberated. With a quick shake of her head that had the world turning on its axis, vision clouding with shards of sparks as dizziness rolled over her, making bile rise in her throat, she began to move.
Sand and shards of shells crunched under the weight of her gentle, cautious steps, crushing into the tread of her boots while she approached, leaving a trail. She could hear the tail end of the woman’s words carry on the whipping currents of air, making her dark strands of hair billow about her face, inky tendrils against the stark white of the bandage covering the tan skin of her cheek and forehead. Burns that she hid with the scraps of fabric there and the leather jacket over her arms. She brought the material closer about her thin frame, tamping down on the rising urge to leave for a warmer, drier place.
“Äiti, mitä voin tehdä? Haluan tehdä jotain. Mitään. Kertokaa ja minä teen sen.” Trying first in Finnish, the language that she had learned for her Äiti, the woman she had come to call mother in every sense but that of useless genetic makeup and materials, she stood a discreet distance behind and away, in case her immediate presence was unwanted or unnecessary. If she were sent away, she would not, of course, leave the beach. Merely hide herself away. Kunna would be able to find her, but that was not the point. Her unwavering need to fix whatever was wrong with her mother was her primary objective. Reyna considered it, privately, to be one of the more important things she could do in her life.
“I can go away if you wish, Äiti, but I’m here if you need me.” With that, she moved her now-lavender irises from the shorter woman’s back out to the dark, ominous clouds hovering over the roiling waters. Mood-triggered weather, it seemed. What more could two vampires ask for?
|
|
|
Post by Kunna Drakonis on Jul 16, 2010 17:20:59 GMT -7
A lightning bolt sparked as it slammed into one of the far off cliffs, rock shards and debris fell into the ocean below. Yet upon that silver sanded beach with angry waves lapping at it's edges, Kunna stood her ground to the ferocious storm. Believers and philosophers would have one believe that the Gods were angry at the impertinence being displayed by such a lowly undead creature of the night. Realists would exclaim it to be a natural phenomenon being taken advantage of for theatrics and emotional encouragement. Oh, but that same dark beast of blood out spread to the four corners knew different.
Indeed, these physical pressures within the subconscious mind built themselves up to Godlike sizes and spread fear into the chemical reserves of the psyche. Twisting ideas into thought of madness and petty sentiments of death. Kunna spread fingertips out to the storm winds raging and felt their presence even then. And another presence, familiar and loved. Her connection had already been made to the eternal towers so turning to look upon the girl would prove fruitless to her endeavors. But by no means did she want Reyna to leave and miss out on what was about to go down out there beside the sea. No matter how simple the ritual was, the girl made the Drakonis Matriarch proud as a daughter of her heart, thus earning herself the right to see the personal sacrifice.
"Pysy kanssani, tytär sydämeni. Katso mitä ollaan tehty. Learn that I'd do the same if it were you." The words rolled familiarly from a learned tongue. Another thunderclap sounded from the heavens and Kunna hissed back, fangs bared with the emotion that roiled beneath the surface of her skin. Eyes remaining closed, she opened up her mind and felt the atmosphere, the area around her, anyone lingering to watch. Easily she picked up on Reyna, a warm glow of flame that burned so bright amidst the darkness. No others seemed to have wandered onto their little caucus. Lucky for them.
Hands dropped from the sky and slowly began to pull away the sleeves of her lace bodice. They fell to the ground and floated away on a passing breeze. Kneeling down then, pallid fingertips ran along the edge seams of the wooden crate at her feet. Flicking away the latches, the lid rose and palms fell inside to gather up a trailing pinch of black ash. To the ocean winds she let it sift through her fingers and disappear like chaff. A dagger rose up from the box then, glinting from every blink of static in the clouds, it's blood ruby crusted handle fit easily within her grasp. The razor sharp blade though pressed against the flesh of her hand.
"Ash and blood. Spilt in the name of the abstract." She flicked out her fingers toward the oncoming storm, blood splattering with the wind that took it away. A few smudges fell upon her skin but was soaked up quickly back to the source. "Ink and well to the purpose of my calling on this, a malevolent evening stained now on my soul, to do upon me as you have so many times before."
Rising the metallic blade into the tenebrific maelstrom. "Strike mine blade with thous vengeance and seal upon my unbeating heart the signature of whom which hath been taken from me!"
In little to no time, a flash of lightning bolted down and struck the tip of the dagger, sending a caustic flame coursing through the woman's frame.
|
|
|
Post by Reyna on Jul 16, 2010 18:09:09 GMT -7
It was strange to her to stand in the force of what seemed to her to be an approaching hurricane. The smallest of rain showers sent her hurtling indoors to wait it out in the general dry and warmth of it. The last time she had voluntarily been out in the rain, it had been to sever. A high rise of emotion seemed to follow whenever she allowed herself to be cold and damp. A twitch of the muscles beneath her unblemished cheek was the only reaction she offered outwardly to the lightning strike against the cliffs. Head tilting, a shiver ran up her spine at the familiarity of the strike. It even had her surreptitiously checking her surroundings for a flash of a red-haired man.
Crinkling her nose, she loosely wrapped her slender arms around her abdomen, long fingers curling around the ridged edges of her ribcage, stance widening somewhat in preparation for whatever could happen. Her feet dug into the sand, small build ups of sand shifting against the sides of the boots as she listened to her mother, dark eyelashes sweeping against her cheeks. Her chin tipped downwards in a nod of agreement, her eyes acquiring a glow. The Splinter didn’t quite know what was going on, but she had an inkling. “Yes, Äiti.”
Her voice was nearly drowned out by the thunder, but she didn’t repeat herself in a louder tone. Her presence was answer enough, she supposed, so she remained silent. One hand lifted from about her form, reaching out to grasp the fabric of one of the sleeves, holding it gingerly as she returned the limb to its former position. It was eerily familiar, the atmosphere, and the lingering presence hovering in the very oxygen present in the saline air. Her mind rocketed back to the sands and dunes of the desert, the sacrifices, the blood and screaming and dark magic. The tall woman shivered again, this time violently and noticeably as her body trembled.
It was as if she could feel His presence directly behind her, breathing on her neck, but her gaze stayed focused on the motions Kunna was going through. The blood that dripped to the wind merely increased her hyperawareness and her fangs peeked out as she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. Whispering to herself in a language long extinct, her attention wavered, finally leaving the woman, her fingernails ripping into the leather of her jacket.
Then, the lightning right next to her shocked her out of whatever trance she was in and she stumbled back, falling to land on her back in the damp sand. Lifting herself on her elbows she watched with wide, anxious eyes, the sight before her chasing away the phantoms of her past and present. And in her fright and panic, the fire that lived in her veins sparked to life, superheating the granules below her hands into warm, smooth glass.
|
|