Capturing Midnight: A Post Blood Canticle RP

[alldrenched]

Stella stared up through the pink tinged water, her hair floating in open swirls until full, the blood rinsing out. She sat up, she found that she could last minutes on end under water, and it was disconcerting. She pulled the long chain to drain the water once again.

If anyone could do this alone, if anyone knew enough that they didn't need a master, a teacher, it should be her. She thought about this, her fingers working thoughtlessly against her forehead as she stared at the draining water. When it swirled into nothingness she plugged the tub back up and let the cool water pour around her.

The water was mesmerizing and when at last, on her fourth bath, the water remained clear and didn't tinge with the blood that had once coated her she stood and dried off with several of the plush towels that filled the bathroom, hanging off of hooks and set on shelves.

This was the pain of being a fledgling, that her thirst was already burning her once more, that she felt both helpless and horrifically strong at once, and that she was lonely, that loneliness hung on her.

She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on one of the dresses she had ordered up. When she was finally dressed she dropped the bloodied one out off of the balcony, tied in a plastic bag, and she thought about Rowan with the obsessiveness of a vampire and a young woman.

Stella could remember every word Rowan had ever spoken to her. Rowan's very business like coldness and confidence was at the root of Stella's hate. Rowan never melted into softness and femininity for Stella of course, and that, it seemed to Stella, was the only reason Michael and Lestat could love her.

Stella was going mad with this hate, every hurt she could think up she could blame on Rowan too easily, and every pain boiled in her. If it weren't for the dazzle of city lights that engrossed her she would have thought of nothing else. This was the kind of madness that could consume a young vampire, the kind of madness that could last centuries, and she should have known it, she should have held back from the brink.

(just wanted to resuscitate this)

[boo radley]

(waha I totally forgot about this! Now I have to read through the last couple of pages haha)

Louis's mouth was opened into a very small, very disappointed O. His fangs protruded, although barely, as he paused in thought. "Then what good was this? What good are you? Here, here this is nothing. I need to know all that I can."

"And I understand your being upset but is that really any way to treat me? I have told you all I know, and that is all I can say. You must leave." Mael paused. "I sense there's someone listening. I cannot hear his thoughts... but it still matters. Cloak your thoughts. Our words... our words may be heard."

Pascal grimaced and quickly ordered his cab away; New Orleans, dangerous as it was, seemed to be exactly where he needed to be.

[alldrenched]

David stood at the balcony. He knew she was just inside, sitting in the living room wondering at the television, at the patterns of the rugs,at the beautiful hum of electronics. He stood there looking in, the killer with an English gentleman's manners couldn't just enter like a thief.

He stood, his dark brown hair immaculately preened, that five o'clock shadow that he was born into this with not shaved meticulously as usual but left rough and natural tonight.

He cleared his throat like the old man he had once been, and there she came, electric with the blood that pumped in her. She ran at him as she had when she was just a teenager. Her arms were around him and at once he knew he would be her teacher as he had once been, and never been. And she was now his sister, for Mona's blood was young, it was truly Lestat's still, a parasite inside of her that now ran in Stella, giving her an eerie glow that enchanted and haunted him.

She felt newborn as he held her, her body warm from the feast she had this evening, and she felt for a moment like herself, but this was all a dream. He felt the hunger, the dizziness that clung to her like a cloud that screamed that she was young, that she was in a vicious dream in even the dreariest of places but she was here, where everything was hand embroidered and perfect. She was wrecked with the beauty, she was slipping into the wonderful hypnosis as she stared at the patterns that writhed and breathed as they coated the wall.

Stella held him too tightly, breathing in the cologne on his shirt and the rain scent that coated him, but her gaze stayed, steadily on the wallpaper behind him.

"What was it Wilde said? Either the wallpaper goes or I do?" she mumbled softly, dreamily into his chest. Yes surely there was a battle beginning here, between herself and this beautiful pattern, between herself and Rowan, between herself and what she now was.

Then David released her, made her lay on the couch with a father's demanding and he ran his fingers through her hair, in a chair near her, like a psychologist and he let her weep until she was exhausted.

For someone so young to be dead, and utterly permanent, to be forced to live this way or truly die was too much, David thought. He had been an old man, he had everything, a young immortal body but the memories of a mortal who lived into his eighties, happily. He watched as every hurt, exaggerated by the new blood, bubbled out of her in broken mutterings and sobs.

[boo radley]

(*pokes JBL*)

Louis felt a sharp jab in his heart. Stella. And she was not alone, no, someone else was there... David. My pain, my suffering. It was too much. It was going to everyone. "I must leave." To soothe Mael (although he was certain it wouldn't be of much use), he added, "I shall try to keep my silence and cloak myself in the shadows."

"That you must, my dear Louis." He sighed. "You must find your new human acquaintance. I have a feeling she may be able to assist you as far as stopping this mutual enemy is concerned." And within the next moments, Louis was gone.

If only Pascal had taken the connecting flight to New Orleans... things would have taken much less time. For all he knew the vampires would be there already and his element would be lost. But you are a witch, he thought. A sorcerer. Perhaps you can outwit them, outwit the Brat Prince of them all. Pascal was very pleased.

(bahh poopy post.)

[boo radley]

(Kayla, darling, you needs to RP with us )

[Jacksbonnielass]

(bah, I've been busy, I forgot about CM. I need to look back and catch up, ya'll lost me.lol)

[alldrenched]

( ::rocks back and forth in the corner:: I neeed RP! I neeeed RP!)

[boo radley]

(hahahaha yeah well... I posted last... waiting to go from there XD)

[Jacksbonnielass]

( totally forgot about this. Stupid college, and life, and A.D.D. )

[alldrenched]

The matte leather Chanel bag rested on a cold stainless steal rolling tool table for a few hours, utterly forgotten. When the cleaning crew came in they found it, and it was shoved on a cart with sweet and citrus scented cleaning supplies until it was unceremoniously tossed into the lost and found box behind the nurses station on the tenth floor. Its mysterious contents, the fluids of two legendary beings and the footage of vampiric transformation on a disposable cellphone, relegated to the bottom of a cardboard box in a file cabinet.


[an attempt to reboot this and hopefully help me with my inability to come up with anything for this RP because I don't want it to totally and utterly die]