Till Death Do Us Part

Quiet. It made the calm before the storm look as loud as the Market at Noon-Day. That was how things had been though since the incident at the Carnival and it bothered me. More than I would let onto the rest of them, enough so in fact that the inactivity was starting to eat away at me. Not that I could let any of them know though, for if I did, they'd be expecting the old Eli to rear her head which would lead to them likely locking me up somewhere. Or my mouth getting the better of me and Gavin shooting me again. While I was still not human, I didn't know exactly where I rested on the spectrum of dead and not dead. Or if I could even die being as considering the last time I'd tried a hair brained scheme involving trying to off myself it had failed miserably. That had also been before Mania. Before I'd met the embrace and been kissed by the madness of Malkav.

It was why I'd left Vanquish and Liam, both dead to the world. It hadn't been easy and in fact I wasn't sure how I was doing it in truth, but as long as I didn't end up having to come to arms at any point while that bloody golden star was still high overhead, I should be fine. It wasn't as if I had plans to go running about outside, nor to slink about in whatever shadows did exist and head off to assassinate someone. Bullocks...I wasn't even planning to pilfer the silver from our Hostess. If there was any silver to be had. Once again I had left a kiss to Liam's cold, unresponsive lips, for a moment hesitating long enough to let myself drift in the thought of what they were like when they weren't so still. A smile it brought my lips, a heat in the lower places of my body that he knew how to evoke within me all too well. Vanquish. Well...My Master I left to sleep where he hung, not having any desire to disturb him at the current moment. Passed it off to him needing his beauty sleep and all.

Stillness greeted me upon exiting and locking the room. There was no sound of chatter, no voices arguing over this that or the other imagined, or not so imagined slight. I was rather thankful for that as it meant I wouldn't have to explain how I was up during the day. I hadn't bothered to do much other than throw on the first garments that came to hand when I left, as I had no reason to do otherwise. Weapons were still in place of course, and even if they weren't, enough had been placed, both by my hand and others around this Haven so that one was never far from reach at all. So there I was, creeping about clad more for seduction than anything else.

Finally coming into the small offset room that I had chosen to set my tools of the trade up in, I slid the key off from around my neck and began to open the tall set of cabinets that housed my wares and the ingredients for crafting them. Small pouches. Jars both clear and dark. Some held liquids, others held powder. Others still had spices or bits of things that most people would rather not look at much less try to put a name to. Mortar and pestle. Various sized vials and several bowls, also of assorted sizes. Last but not least was the set of blades and two small boxes, one containing flint and tinder, the other smoking matches. Arraying them all about me on the tables, I walked to the cabinet one last time and on this trip withdrew several rolls of parchment, ink, a quill, and drying sand. Locking the cabinet once more, I walked to one of the few unoccupied spaces and settled the items down before propping one hip against the three legged stool that was the only type of seating arrangement in the room.

Opening one of the scrolls, I uncorked the inkwell, snatched up the quill and let myself sink deeply into taking stock of what supplies I had in good quantity and which I would either need to make more of myself or find a way to lay my hands upon by whatever other means were necessary.

I woke again, rather found renewed life what must have been only a couple of hours later. The fat candles, unscented of course that I had lit were only partially burned down, the wax creating unique etchings upon the unused portion before pooling into an already hardened mass at the bottom. Should have put something beneath those. Oh well. No harm, no foul. It would surely take more than a few candles to burn this place down anyways.

Did Vampires dream ?

I knew the answer to that question. At least that we had night terrors. Those I had experienced far more frequently than I liked to admit. I was yet to come upon any of the truly good ones. Didn't there have to be some sort of balance ? A yin and a yang to dreams like there was to everything else ? The thought however odd, or seemingly random was due to the fact that there were words in my head that had been there before my most recent death that were not there now. neither good nor bad, they were instead curious, ones that I wanted to take down to remember over again. I was going to do that now before I was interrupted by anything, be it human, supernatural, or even death itself. Besides, knowing my luck if I ended up loosing track of them, they'd be something of vital importance someday.

Thankfully the lists I'd been working on were dry with only a few noticeable smudges and were able to be rolled away into a neat case and locked into the cupboard. Just before the doors were closed, the lock turned, a small book was drawn out. Older than it was new, yet still in min condition, I took to a corner of the room. Noticing not the chill, nor the quiet that was still predominant, legs were arranged beneath me, the book rested on crossed knee. Ink a simple black, the writing the illusive mix of curls and slants that was now my longtime trademark, I put quill to paper, the third page of the book slowly but surely beginning to fill as I drew each one from mind.

I summon to the winding ancient stair
Set all your mind upon the steep ascent
Upon the broken, crumbling battlement
Upon the breathless starlit air
Upon the star that marks the hidden pole;
Fix every wandering thought upon
That quarter where all thought is done
Who can distinguish darkness from the soul

As I sat there, however brief the time ended up being, I was tied to this book. Lost to the world and it's toil and trouble around me. Peace was there, tranquility it's own colorful brand as the words I was ascribing painted their own odd images within my mind. Ones that were scripted only for my mental viewer, or perhaps another of Malkav's beloved. Though to anyone else, well most anyone else they would likely just sound like the rantings of a mad woman. In truth, was that not what they were ? The thought brought a bemused smile to my lips, and a tilt to my head that had bone white tresses falling further into disarray. Ever the mad scientist, the beautiful loon, ash, and ink smudges adorning our skin and all.