Forever Is Not So Long A Time If You Spend It With One Who You Desire Eternity With.

Madame Victoria

Bertran fell to his knees as he felt the wondrous heat wrap about him as his markings illuminated the room with Victoria’s. He threw his head backward, his eyes seeking and immediately finding hers and knowing that she was the answer, the answer to so many questions he had not even knew existed before this very second. He knew that she was the key to the door he had been bashing his face into for longer than he could even remember anymore. His voice was thick with emotion as he spoke to Victoria, her eyes moist with tears as she looked down at him.

“Goddess, I ask you, nay I beg you, please tell me what I am, why I am this.” He had said it, he had been waiting to ask that question his entire life. He had asked it before of course, just never to anyone that was not a charlatan, a snake-oil salesman, an ally of darkness and the demonic.

Victoria reached down with both hands and lifted him to his feet, slowly guiding him to divan where she sat him down, sending calm into him so that he would take this moment in for the immense thing that it was and not panic through it. Her voice was wistful, almost smiling as she began to speak, the words making the room, all there was to see was grass on a plain that extended beyond sight in all directions.

“I was born, aye. I was born to parents and had siblings by the dozen. The Fae were a population that outnumbered modern man five thousand to one. Hundreds of billions of us on a planet that has not existed in thousands and thousands of years. The Fae count time differently than mortal man, immortals do not need to keep such precise measurements. In the counting of the years of man however, I am hundreds of thousands of years old. I will live a hundred thousand times that and more beyond. Immortality is true. It is not the tale the Irish have told, not the Darkness that feeds on the essence, but it exists. It is a burden to some, a gift to others and, to you my lovely Bertran, it is a curse. Your mother was cursed by one who had a deep knowledge of things old and powerful.” She leaned forward and Bertran softly on the forehead, making him calmer and yet keeping him focused on her words as she wove the truth he had so long wanted and needed to hear.

“You will never die. You will never be killed. You are one of perhaps twenty that walk the world forever that is not Fae or Darkness. You have never met the others because you actively avoid one another, as magnets do not touch one another. You have so much pain, so much sorrow from so long, it is a wave most cannot accept when they hear the truth, of which nearly none do. You will walk this world after it kills itself either by war or Siobhan returns to claim it as her own once more.” Victoria’s voice got much more serious as she spoke the next part, delicately as to not drive him from her.

“You have power, Bertran. You do not know how to use it and I humbly ask you to allow me to teach you to use it lest darker things find you and make you slave for them for all of time, feeding appetites you truly do not want to imagine. Stay with me here, in Montreal, and I will tell you everything you want to know, I will teach you all you desire to learn and, I will give you other things that one like yourself has abstained from.” Her voice took on a husky tone as she dropped the final line, his head snapping to hers in understanding. Immortals could not breed, they had no children, but they still desired the pleasures of the flesh as much as any other creature Siobhan created.

Bertran took a deep breath and nodded, he did not trust himself to use words to tell this Goddess that she had just given him more than he ever dared to have hoped for.

Patience Is Rewarded

Siobhan

Darkness filled the cave, not darkness that came from a lack of light, but a darkness that was made, formed, created. It was a tangible thing. Moving in it you could feel it like air currents pass over your skin and taste it in the air like copper and abandonment. There was a noise in the room, hard to decipher at first as the world was so dark and all sounds seemed muted in the velvet envelope of it. No, no there it was. A drip, a drop from a great height.

The dripping sound was constant. It had an echo to it, belying the size of the room it came into. It was neither pleasant to hear nor was it a bane on the eardrums. It was simply a drip. it happened once or twice every minute. A constant thing, never pausing for more than thirty seconds or so.

If one were to walk a little farther into the stifling darkness, it would get louder, the sound of it hitting something hard and unyielding obvious the first time that you hear it. Like water on a rock, but it was too thick for water, it had weight to it, the sound and the substance itself.

A flash as bright as the sun, a momentary one is all, and revealed is the great Dark Goddess, Siobhan. Queen and Creator of all that was and could be. She stared at the bowl-shaped indentation where the drip hit, had been hitting for as long as time had been. Her eyes were focused on the center of the valley in the rock. Her pink tongue sitting just outside her mouth, black lips surrounding it, amethyst eyes that illuminated all above them.

It was hard to read the emotions on her face. They were many at once, yet one was so very clear. it was etched in her as solid as if it had been carved on the rock She sat upon.

Hunger.

Siobhan could, and did, create anything at will, all her needs instantly and overwhelmingly fulfilled. Yet She looked at drop hitting the rock with its rhythmic thump and with every splash of it, her breath would catch the briefest moment before She relaxed and the cycle repeated.

Looking up, tot he vast height the drop came from a needle’s point of light entered the room. It disappeared with every new drop, ut as you watch the drop fall, as you watch the now obvious crimson hue of it as it cascades down towards its inevitable destruction, the life force that it was reflects in the scant light given off by Siobhan herself.

Blood.

It was easy to come by, blood. She had donors, slaves, willing participants, but it was not enough. She needed a thing She could not place her finger on just yet and so She stared with longing as the blood of the world slowly made its way to a single point and dripped into the underbelly of all that was and splashed into nothingness in front of the Greatest Mother, the Darkest Queen the Sweetest Goddess.

Each drip, each moment, endless.

Then, enlightenment.

The amethyst of the eyes slowly leaving, the cavern filling with the crimson color that dripped forever from above. The darkness about her total and complete as She uttered a sentence, a command.

“Summon The Hunt Master.”

Quick and Dirty

GROWL

I feel like a real adult today. I got shit accomplished.

I have dinner in the slow cooker, I made calls to Social Security that needed to be made and I even did most of the damn dishes.

Oh yeah.

I am going to go out in a bit, but I wanted tow rite something to get the fingers warmed up for the keyboard later because I sadly did not write as much this weekend, meaning I didn’t write at all, as I meant to write and I mean to amend that today if it is possible.

I want to write a chunk of Siobhan and Victoria today especially, I have a thought I don’t want to lose in regards to them. I am also feeling very vampire lately, so maybe I will write a thing I have been tossing about upstairs for a bit and see if anyone wants to look at it at all.

So yeah, be excellent to each other and party on dudes,

RAWRZ

Weight

Weight

I haven’t always been honest when I am feeling a certain way, I think if I share the pain or the feelings I am experiencing it will bother, hurt, and in general inconvenience the person that is asking about them. I know this is a flawed way of looking at things, but it is the way it is and years of programming cannot be undone simply by telling me not to do that thing anymore.

So, today is the day after an anniversary of a thing, I am going to share my feelings with you Gentle Readers. Not because I want to necessarily, but because catharsis is important and getting the poison out of your own body is a way not to be hurt by it anymore.

What the anniversary was for isn’t important to this really, although I will say it is a positive thing, a milestone of good in my life and I will leave it at that.

What is important is to tell you is that there is nothing in the world I am ashamed of more than virtually every day leading up until that day. Shame because I was weak-willed, feeble in my attempts and deleterious in my attempts to show some form of self-respect.

It is this weight that sits on my heart most days. I get very metaphorical about it most of the time, but today I will just say it hurts. It hurts that I wasted almost seventeen years being one thing when I know for a fact I could have been a hundred other things. I will say that there will never be a day from this one until my last one that I do not hate myself because of it.

The people thinking I am doing this for pity can think what they want. The people who think that I am doing it for attention can think what they want. What none of you know is that what I want is impossible to have and this is at least a way to express that sometimes you simply have to live with things no matter how much you wish you didn’t have to.

RAWRZ

It Is The Life Force After All

Yeah, I'm Dark!

I am listening to Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge. It is a delightful song to start your day if you haven’t tried it. Thankfully the Internet is full of awesome things that will let you experience this with very little effort at all. I am in a very narrow mindset this morning and I think this will help me exquisitely to get done what I think needs to get done. What is it that I want to get done before I disappear into the vast world of College Football at noon?

Blood.

I want to write about blood and death. I want to write about bathing in it and drinking it and fucking through it and every other thing you can think of. Will I? I have absolutely no idea, I am telling you what I want to get done, I am not a psychic by any stretch of even my imagination. I have felt the urge to go back to the preternatural lately, and while my beloved Siobhan and the new joy of Victoria will always be in the centerpiece, I was raised writing blood and darkness and despair. History and teeth and mashing and mixing legends from all over the world.

Other than that, it is going to be a chill day, I have a lot on my mind and I need to try and shovel some of it off.

Rawrz motherfuckers (Also gender-neutral, I may add)