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Post by ezaraudin on Sept 25, 2009 0:33:31 GMT -5
September 1.. 2015
For more years than I care to count I have been here.. Long before the pact with Jefferson.. Long before the birth of Christ.. All of it a single blurring line with no beginning, and seemingly no end.. I listen to the soft chirping of the nightingales and for a brief moment.. It is still.. serene.. But I have lived long enough to know better. Nestled between the rise and fall of breath is a world that they have invited in through the front door.. But it will not leave that way.. They welcomed in with open arms a world that they will never understand.. How can they? How can a creature who will never do more than crawl know what it is to soar?
Night after night they crawl into bed and forget why they used to fear the darkness. I have not forgotten.. I walk among them daily watching them wander through obliviousness and denial. That they are safe behind laws that castrate the will and call is society. No.. Not since they ate of the apple in Eden have they made so costly a mistake. They see us as impossibly beautiful, seductive and I suppose in many ways we are.. At least to those that are weak of spirit. They see us, fascinating and like moths to the flame so too do they gravitate to wards inevitability wanting what? Our power? It is to laugh.. Throughout the entire time I myself have watched so many taken in by the promise of and lust for power. But they are all illusion. No one that truly understands power would want it.. and those that want it are unworthy of it. I walk unseen among them. Even the so called creatures of the night could scarcely fathom its truth or its depth.
And they smile and lure and pluck them from the herd as the wolf does sheep. And they go, smiling to wards their own destruction as merrily as they would a tea party. But I.. I watch both the sheep, and the shepherds. I watch as they convince themselves of their own superiority. Blind, the lot of them.. All of us that are different than they.. Some more than others.. They seem to think that they hold the cards. You would think that for the length of time some of them have been on this earth they would have actually learned something. They either do not realize, or do not care that history has taught us one thing if nothing else. There is no creature now or prior that has ever reached the level of evil that I have seen in the hearts of men. None of our combined powers could even hope to match the sheer magnitude of destruction the sons of Adam can. If ever there were outright conflict.. You could take every Vampire, every Fae, and every Shifter and it would STILL not be enough..
September 12th, 2015
It is cold, but I do not feel it.. Truth be told.. I have not felt anything in a very long time.. At least nothing but the Shadows. I am most at home there.. Unnoticed, unobtrusive.. and glad of it. In my wandering I have stumbled upon a sleepy little town called Wood Bourne.. It is exactly the kind of town you would expect to find in Stephen King Novels.. Quiet, unassuming.. and dangerous..
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Post by ezaraudin on Sept 30, 2009 14:01:22 GMT -5
September 20th...
Woodbourne is exactly what one would picture a sleepy little rustic village to be. In fact, the only thing that would be more picturesque would be if I were looking at it on a post card. To tell the truth it looks like a Sherwood Schwartz sitcom set. The perfect launching pad for the end of all things. I have met some rather interesting people in my meanderings here.. Most are simple folk who inspite of thier conditions try to mete out an existance with as little static as possible. Others.. not so much.. I do not understand what it is about some of them who feel the need to dominate other life. The dick measuring contests are tiresome. It is as though they need reassurance or something.. Not all are like that.. I have met one whom I can say I have much in common with. He is, like me something of a Paladin. I encounted him in the grove with another.. Arimathea led as inexorably as always to where the pain were greatest. There I beheld a boy in turmoil.. I stretched out to him my Hand.. and held it in dark communion. There I witnessed more of the atrocity I have come to know intimately during the length of my travels among these people. The torment, the love, and the exquisite pain. After some coaxing I aided him in joining the two halfs of his nature.. though I fear he will need more time to recover from the vampire trying to carry him than he will from the ordeal.
September 22nd...
I have taken to favoring seating myself upon the park benches scattered throughout the town. My two favorites are the one in front of the tavern and the other is in front of the general store. Bird-Bird favors the general store as it has within a ready supply of crackers and other such munchable tidbits.. But as I found myself walking from one bench to the other I took notice of a young lady seated outside the Bar. Something about her seemed.. familiar and I did engage in some light discourse. Having spoken to her a little while I realized that this was the woman I saw from the mind of Jaysen. I am astonished that this woman can get out of bed in the morning.. She has a self esteem lower than the temperature of SPACE on the KELVIN scale.. Having first encountered her face down on the floor in the room above the bar. If memory serves it was after an attack in which Kitty became "Some Assembly Required" Though I was not privy to the event that left Kitty with the Bob Barker treatment, I did get to see Lieutenant Latex and his Captain "Downy". I managed to aid her with the Hand of Shadow and Regret and slipped away unnoticed. Unfortunately without thinking I made her aware of my Dreamwalking so to speak but was able to divert her attention regaling her with humorous anecdotes involving planting poultry. She seems like a good girl, and I hope that her and Jaysen can get their act together because after everything they have gone through it would be a sin for them not to wind up together. I hope they do..
September 23rd..
Now I have to figure out a way to return the firearm Bird-Bird pilfered. Granted I can understand why Bird-Bird took it.. Alcohol and handguns do not normally mix. Unless of course its in Arkansas, then its simply culling the herd. But I digress. Seems like a decent pistol too. Once the bits of plate glass had been cleared from the barrel and chamber. Took the liberty of cleaning it.. I should make Bird-Bird return it, but Arimathea is not very good with explanations....
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Post by ezaraudin on Dec 12, 2009 0:36:37 GMT -5
Much time has passed since I have had time to put pen to paper. Though I confess I have had more than enough cause to do so. Things have become more complex than I could possibly imagine and the substance of my personal dread has come to pass.. In my absence from Wood Bourne there has been an.. influx of Fae that have seemed to have flocked here for reasons that I could not possibly fathom. I came here because I thought there no place further from the Courts of old. Granted there was a supernatural element but nothing that I could not handle. However about a fortnight ago my Beloved Bird-Bird departed on a journey and for the first time since we have been linked I was unable to locate them or hear through thier ears, see through thier eyes.. It was most disconcerting truth be told.
However nothing could have prepared me for when Bird-Bird returned. Clutched tightly Bird Bird delivered a Royal Summons to Court. Now I do not know about anyone else, but when you are called to court with the seal of the Queen upon the letter. Right after the sensation of someone walking over my grave.. You go. This was what caused me to depart from Wood Bourne for some little while. Which could not have come at a worse time really. I was making some progress into making a difference and really helping people. However all of that became secondary once the summons came. I set forth immediately to St. Louis and from there made my passage home.. Something I have not done for more than a Hundred years. My arrival was met with exactly what one would expect when "graced" with a Royal Order.
The Court was exactly what I remembered.. Oppulence and decadence raised to an artform without equal. I was ushered into the main audience chamber by one of the countless courtesans and was brought to kneel before the Queen of Darkness herself. Now mind you this is not the first time I have been before her as I have been decorated on more than one occassion for my valor in battle. However this one was particularly disturbing as at least then I knew WHY I was there.. This time I had no idea. She went on to explain that she had summoned me for a very important task, but did not provide details as to her plan, and frankly I was neither inclined or in a position to ask. She tells me that she wants me to establish a Court, an.. embassy if you will in Wood Bourne because it was part of her "vision" and that she could think of none better than a decorated Cwn Anwnn.
Why one would send a Soldier to play politics is something of a puzzle to me but again, when you are commanded by the Crown, it is the duty of the Soldier to Obey, however I might dislike the notion I will do whatever I must. The Fae here are an unfocused lot, most of them have forgotten, or ignored the Honor and Glory of what MAKES us the Shining Ones. I believe that the Queen has selected me to remind them all of the weight of thier heritage. Perhaps it also has something to do with the less than secret issue of Succession. If she is able to put out enough feelers as it were she may find one worthy of siring an heir for the Princess. I was granted the title of Lord and dispatched forthwith back to Wood Bourne to begin my mission.. Which proved difficult from day one.. Such is my lot I suppose.. These children.. they do not know me.. They know OF me.. but that is hardly the same. However it is not something I cannot.. remedy.. Unfortunately my time in self imposed exile has enabled me to foster a reputation for being more... jovial than is my nature and admittedly I enjoyed that.
However like all good things this too must come to an end. I shall try my best not to let this position taint me further than it has, which is difficult at best with what comes with the fact that when you are in the employ of the Dark Queen, you cannot HELP but be saturated with it. It troubles me that this has made me uncomfortable with the Darkness that had become home to me, but I imagine it could be worse. I suppose that I should be grateful that I have found favor with the Queen, but if I am in her favor, why is it I feel that I have been sentenced? I depart now for the Faery Cave to begin my task..
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Post by ezaraudin on Dec 13, 2009 6:03:19 GMT -5
At exactly what point was it that I lost control. There had to have been one.. Somewhere in all of this, there was a moment where I could have said no.. Its gone now.. Past. There is just this.. No enigma, no dignity.. Nothing.. God has given them one face and they make themselves another. More and more flock here. To be sheltered? Perhaps. To be shown? Possibly. I have tried and tried to maintain my stance that we need not be the monsters long feared. We are revered for our beauty, but was not Lucifer the most beautiful of all angels? I fear that like him I too will fall. I can feel it each passing moment, this Sergeant is swift in its arrest as the ink encroaches upon my spirit.
I can feel it.. ever pressing..
In my travels I encountered a girl. Asleep on the parkbench in the cold. I found myself watching her there for some time, though I was not alone in this.. Passing jackals took note as well.. It is moments like these that I think that Mankind makes far worse monsters than any that walk among them.. I do not think that for an instant they had any idea what transgression would cost them.. I wonder if their last thoughts were about the cosmic irony that was thier fate. I wonder if they regretted preying upon the girl for the rest of thier lives.. Both seconds of it. Six human scum versus a single Cwn Anwnn isn't a fair fight. I should have let them go get more people.
I think she came around just as I was twisting the head of one off like a bottle cap. Which like his Pez dispenser impression was short lived. Almost immediately she fainted. I keep forgetting how fragile they are.. So I did what I had to.. I gathered her up and slipped into the darkness.. Put her to bed and resumed my vigil.. It isn't like I am worried she will find anything at the apartment.. After all, my secrets guard themselves...
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Post by ezaraudin on Dec 31, 2009 17:47:55 GMT -5
You would think that for the length of time I have been alive, I would get used to the way that people treated thier own. I stare at a painting of someone I know now better than I have ever before, but what I know is not mine.. It invokes in me emotions that were not mine to feel but feel them I do. Every stroke to create this image I am intimately familiar with, but it does not fill me with a feeling of love for that subject matter but rather one of sadness. I barely felt the tears that streamed down my face but I felt deeply what caused them.. I have them all now.. The final calling is complete but it was not how I imagined it. I curse myself for my sentimentality. I wonder why when I had the opportunity I did not save thier life.
Was it something more? I am no stranger to death, it is as much a part of me as my own beating heart. I am the son of Morrhigan. She is Death personified. I have watched and caused the death of more creatures than I could hope to count.. Yet this one.. One I witnessed, but not directly caused. This was has given me pause. The pain they felt in thier heart was far greater than that of the body even with the puncture of most of thier major organs. In my palm I hold jewelry.. It pales in comparison to some of the pieces in my collection but in this moment, they are precious to me. Or at least to part of me. The wind is picking up. I can feel it. Hear it rattling the windows of this simple apartment that in this moment feels more like home to me than my own.. I thumb through the various pictures.. Images, some prophetic, some disturbing.. Things that could be, and other things that were.. I left the apartment and stood on the roof, looking at the charred remains of the tattoo shop. I could have saved her.. but I did not. It seems that it is not just the temperature that has grown colder.
As I walk back to the Sithen my mind is filled with the images of those that I have encountered here. Thier voices ringing through my head in a cacophany of recollection. This night brings with it the full moon, and a Blue moon at that.. The balance of power has passed from the Lady to the Lord as it has done since time immemorial. I can feel my pulse thundering in my ears.. It is time..
Its getting colder..
colder...
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