Venice

Petitioning

I don't know how long I remained there. Certainly it was morning before seemed to become more aware of my surroundings, the smell of blood high on my senses and of course the shroud of invisibility having worn off some several hours prior. I felt ill, the sight of it. So much red, all over me and the ground. How hard had it been to not step forward, to not aid, to not prevent and let him commit his sacrifice? My magic could of saved him, I know healing is not my best area, but I know I could of. He would of hated me for it though. Well.. perhaps not hated me, but I think forgiveness would of been a long time coming.

So, this small thing was all that I could do. My pleads offered to Morhiag on his behalf, petitioning her for his return, her light filtering through the corpse of trees that surrounded the clearing. The clearing.. why here of all places? Should he not of known better?

But at least, my prayers had been answered. Or I believed so, a small sign given just as her light faded and Cymur's started to fill the sky. Perhaps my sacrifice some time past in her name maybe had not been for nougth. Perhaps she did remember me.

Sacrifice

Venice falls back against her haunches, kneeling behind the svelte young man. She remains still, so much so that given the fevor of worship about her, she is soon forgotten. And for her, she is pleased enough with this. As a slash of blood cuts across her right cheek, mirroring the scar that also adorns the skin, she starts to murmur, her words barely audible along side the pitch of the man in front of her. Few noticed her presence, and it seems even few noticed her disappearance. Though yet she remained. Droplets of blood soon staining both her skin and her golden outfit.

A long breath, shuddering as it passes her lips is released and for a moment her eyes close. Her fingers coming up to clutch at her face and her head dipping down to press against her thighs. Her fingers conceal the sight of the blood letting in front of her for only a few seconds before she forces her face to lift and forcing upon her hidden eyes upon the sight, herself almost as bloodied as the man before her.

It is only when he falls upon the weapon that she finally looks away once more, her shoulders shuddering as she presses her face into her thighs and cover her ears to the pleadings, to the last words uttered, to everything.

Even, when everyone has gone, she remains. The bloodied moon high in the sky, and her spell having long since worn off.

Lazy

Okay, the weekend didn't quite go as planned, and as a result, things here are looking much the same unfortunately. Maybe I shall have more luck in the coming days.

I did do a little roleplay though, which felt kind of good. No IC posts from me yet, though I am half eager to. Want to test out this protection system 'properly' with a real post that does need some protection. Have to think of something nice and juicy :)

A little adjustment

Got something resembling my old style up and running now. Not quite right, and I do plan on totally redoing it this weekend, just couldn't stand to leave it at the default for any longer. That and I was bored at lunch time at work. Probably more the latter actually.

Protection!

After about 2-3 weeks, I've managed to get blog protection working finally thanks to the very informative blog Musing, Meandering and also the help of the writer, Meathe. Thank you again, no doubt without your aid I would of given up again semi indefinitly.

Unfortunately as a side effect of adding the new plugin in, I need to update my style. What you see now is one of the default ones... I'm not sure I'm going to get a chance to update it properly till the weekend, so you're stuck with this. It looks a little antiquated in a strange sort of way.

Bloodied

These are not the words of a poet. But then again, I have never claimed to be one. By my mouth, words mutilated. By my hand, flesh sundered. By my breath, hearts bleed.

My fingers are bloodied. Figuratively as much as literally. More so than any Commander that has sent a nation to war. More than any King that has watched a nation starved whilst he sat on thrones of gold. I watch now the thin rivulets of blood cross curve around my fingers, each drop taking a different path till my palm is painted red. The pain of the grazes and the gashes and the cuts not even felt any more. I wish I could feel it, a part of me linking the desire and need for pain with the peace that inflicted punishment brings.

My nails tap against the edge of the bowl, the sides slick from the streams of blood that run down to collect within. Careful to avoid tainting the sheets and bedding, but not quite careful enough my eyes say as they spy a few drops. I'll have to see to that tomorrow says the logical part of my mind, distant and not quite connecting to the actions and the emotions and the horror and the stress.

Where are you now..?

Unity

Why is it so difficult for us that we struggle so much against each other? So much conflict, so many arguments that getting everyone in one room together to discuss some basic precepts seem to be nigh on impossible! They all fight with all their might against each and everyone of us. Melchoir, it feels the task that you set me sometimes is impossible. They mix as well as oil and water. And given my temper, it has been hard to keep that in check.

]]> How can I speak to them of the Arcana and impart that knowledge? How can we develop our counter strike against the Vek that grow only stronger and more united by the day? How many deaths will it take before they sit up and listen? Why do they not see and understand this?

But for my associations, they of course will not listen to me. I think, on my worse days, that it is me that is the problem and me that should be removed from their midst. I attempted that with the red herbs, and it worked for a time. My mind was thundering but peaceful. But now after taking a little too much last time, I am out.. and the weather has been too foul to venture into the marsh to acquire more.

Of Kha

I am known as a Runic mage. In that, to put it less eloquently, I like to draw the shape of the symbols with my fingers when casting. Kind of like finger painting for anyone who ever did that as a child.

]]> It is not purely necessary, though most mages use some method of focus. There are those that carry staves, some that use elements, candles, smoke. I use the physical drawing of the rune. There are a few rare exceptions that do not use anything, they simply speak it, and it is so. But I have not met such a mage in some time. Usually something is needed as a focal point. The drawing of Kha is that much easier, and the result of the spell hinders on how much focus you have. There are some spells, much more simple. Ones that I have refined that now require only a rune or two to complete that I can cast with just a word.

I do not think those that have not tried it can ever truly understand how truly taxing working with Kha can be. For example, two days earlier I drew enough kha to alter the weather and bring the sun out when before there had been nothing but rain for weeks. I am not entirely sure what I did except that I was sick of the rain. And I have since been berated for doing so- but I digress. Drawing Kha. Taxing. After invoking the spell.. which I had to do no less than three time to get enough of a result, I blacked out. Though I am uncertain how long for. The sun had not moved much, and thankfully I was in my study. But I acquired a small bump on my brow for my efforts. But at least I could see the sun. With the darkness so close, it is nice sometimes to be reminded that it is still there. Perhaps that is why I wished to, so we could be reminded that it still exists. Even now, three days later I am still weak from it and it will be several more days yet till I recover.

It is something I should write further on. Gather my notes together and publish something new. It has been a while since my works have been published, though of late, since the trial, if anything it has increased sales as people suddenly become more aware of who I am.

Of Love

Demons, kha, incantations, runes and grounding. Of all of these I have written, but never of love.

I do not think it is within the realms of my grasp, though sometimes I swear I feel it brush the edge of my finger tips. Taunting. Giving me just the barest glimpse of what I am missing. I see it in the eyes of others. The tailor, the Captain who people proclaim as mine.

]]> But not for me. It is not something Ylessa has yet sought to bless me with, no mortal man holds my heart- or for that matter as it is a modern world; woman.

But then, it is not something I have been overly concerned with. No devotions have I ever offered in the name of it, though of course I pay my respects to Ylessa as I do to any of the Gods. Though none more so than Melchoir.

Normally it is not something that I find myself missing. I have other, more important things to dwell, but recent events have given rise to thoughts outside of the norm. Perhaps tomorrow, I will visit Ylessa's temple and ask for her blessing. There were some pretty wild flowers blooming in the clearing that I think she might like in offering.

Perhaps it is not meant for me as I am of the chosen. And the only one of my kind. Born Dryth from birth. By Melchoir's own words. Special even amongst the Choosen. Bound by my Love to all Dryth. As it is dicated in many of the Arcane Houses. Not all, but most offer similar take on it. A couple of the houses dictate that those within it do not marry, as no partnership could surpass that between one Dryth and another. Others advocate celebacy. These things need to be decided amongst us for what House we will rise from the ashes of the Darkness. It is well past the time we meet to decide.

The Wake

I, and thou; our hands meet and a world engendered.

I tried to give words to it today, how it is. How it was and how it will be, but I fear they failed miserably. I think though that he caught a glimpse of it. It is the first time I had spoken of it in that manner with another and a small weight lifted with it's telling.

It was like it always is at the wake. His presence had not been wholly unexpected, I saw the signature on the list. And for that, I took some care in my appearance, though my mind had been distracted by events the prior day. I used concealing make up to hide the bruises (bought for me at a high price by Taliesin back in a time when my scars bothered me more), though by the end of the day, much of it had rubbed off on the black cloths.

He was like a lodestone for my eyes. I cannot help myself when he is near, akin to a migrating bird, or a newborn turtle instinctively guided. And doomed. It will be the death of me-- no wait, it already has.

OOC- Protect

Trying to sort out this entry protecting but not having a great deal of luck. So ignore the errors that the site is throwing up at the moment. I want to leave them there whilst I contact the people who made this plugin so hopefully they can see where I went wrong and advise. I'm sure I've missed something really simple.

Disillusion

The words rang through my head, and my hand ached to grab the small packet of herbs I keep so close now, my mouth almost salivating with the desire to do so, yearning for the acidic taste that would bring with it oblivion. My knees weakened at the thoughts. Was it purposeful? Did they know what they did to me? Everyone knows what I am, they surely do too. Is it truth..? Lies? Does it matter? It is not even my concern, it should not be. It does not matter that it is not.

Spring is now over.
Summer has well-nigh passed.
Winter will soon dawn.

Thoughts

I have been trying to draw the Dryth together over the last few weeks but am finding a surprising amount of resistance from two of our number. Enough to try both my patience and temper to it's limits... and for those that know me, the limit for my temper is low enough that I constantly trip over it.

]]> Our leader is busy with other affairs. And affair in the strictest sense is probably an appropriate word. He has a lady friend, and as loathed as I am to admit it, I preferred him as a Child of Elbahn than tied into a monogomous relationship with /her/. Her thoughts are barbed, aimed to rile. And rile me she does. I have done worse to others for less. And yet because of him, I.. we hold back. Her thoughts lay all of our plans bear for others to see and her jealousy holds no bounds.

The informant seems to be jealous herself of the leaders new affair, having been a regular 'customer' of his as a child of Elbahn. My Gods- the thoughts they had, if I had known he had lived so close, then my nights might not of been so--- but, no. Let us not get into that. Let's just say I was suitably educated in the art thanks to him. Whether directly intended or not. I am sure sometimes he did it on purpose.

There were rumours of another new Dryth, but they seem to have faded without me having a chance to meet her. If the others were the first impression she got, she's probably fled into the darkness, preferring a different kind of torture to this.

And lastly the protector. His hip is joined to the informant at the waist. After a failed attempt at kissing me (I am truely terrible at it), he seems to have taken it badly and thrown himself at her. Perhaps annoyed at me. I don't know, I did count him as at least a friend, he would not acknowledge my request for us to meet upstairs at the Inn, so the group consisted of myself and the leader alone. And still our plans are laid to waste as neither of us seem capable of communicating them to the others!

OOC Entry

Just another bit of a post to let you know I'm still alive and kicking out here. Still working through some OOC issues, and those involved with RP with my character, or have characters that interact with my character, just assume for the moment she's fairly 'bogged down' with the trial, and has little time between to get out.

I may try do some IC posts over the next week regarding that...

Oh, also moved the site over to moreblogs of roleplay...

OOC

At the moment I'm finding it difficult to get the desire to roleplay. I did three emotes last night for the first time in a fortnight and even that was hard. But for me, the fun has been taken out of it.

I hope it is something I'll eventually get back into as roleplay was something I have always enjoyed, and I feel like I'm cheating the character to leave her mid-way like this. The longer I leave it as well, the harder it is as I have to explain an absense in an important time for Venice (her trial).

One of the reasons I find myself unable to play at the moment is largely (as you may of guessed) due to OOC reasons. Every time I think of roleplaying I'm worrying, am I emoting too much? Will people think I'm gaining RP too fast? If my character did X in this situation will it be perceived as bad? What if I did Y? Am I roleplaying with X too much? And it's developed now to the point it is no longer fun. I'd rather not at all. It's easier.

Although RP points have never really meant anything to me, 'it's all about the story', I had always enjoyed the excitment of gaining a new star, and now I dread it. I would happily set all my points to zero and in fact had 50k (nearly two years worth of RPP) taken off my account in the hopes of alleviating this feeling and satisifying others but still.. meh.

Hopefully the feeling will pass.