A Swann's Song - OOC More Requiem For your Entertainment.
And in our next installment, Ms Swann's Tribulation and enlightenment continues, and she meets a few sharp things. Mulitiple times. o.O;
Ritual 2: Sanguine Spies
"Cruor est Vita," Or So they say. Perhaps for a Kine. But for us.. It is far more.
I reflect upon this as I wander desultory through lonesome wooded passages. Supplejack clings to my skirts like a frightened babe as I pass, but I have no time for being idle tonight. My feet carelessly turn it aside, ignoring the herbaceous cry for comfort. The moon has risen, and her lips have kissed a fever within my thoughts. It is this sweet caress that has driven me into the gloom, and yet I know not why. Under the shadow of a Puriri, wetness trickles down my throat, soaking into my shirt. Almost absent-mindedly, I reach up to wipe away the moisture.
My hand now shines, coated in a scarlet film.
I am suddenly uneasy.
My Eyes flick upward. An Empty canopy.
Back. Forth.. No being. No sound.
Downward. A small spot of crimson residue at my feet. Nothing more.
Yet.. Something Is there. I can feel it..
Cautiously, I persevere. More deliberately, with greater care.
A soft breeze whispers through the glades like a sigh..
I am Certain I heard my name within that shadowy zephyr.
Perhaps..
No, I must be mistaken.
..and yet..
A branch cracks close by. Behind me, a thin utterance.
Run!
Branches score grooves in pale flesh as I dart through the undergrowth. Twigs snap, Vines reach out imploringly, slowing my escape, encircling my feet. Near-blind in the inky gloom, the frantic gestures seem near comical as the ground fall out from under me.
Rolling and turning, and crashing ever downward, my limbs are threshed against ancient trees. Thrown and tossed and shaken about like a rag-doll, a sudden thump ends my decent.
Maimed and senseless, I lie on a bed of young saplings, holding held me fast. Sharp pain tears through the front of my skull.. Once. Twice. Then all is silence.
After a time, I open my eyes.
Darkness.
Blinking, rubbing, and other ministrations yield no relief. Closing my eyes, I begin shunting precious vitae. Healing the smaller wounds, I sense the beast's growing hunger within me. My eyes open again.
Darkness.
I still cannot see.
Stumbling about, helpless as a newborn chick, I locate a branch, and tap it around experimentally.
"Stop that. It makes you look rediculous."
The voice is right next to my ear. A cold and cutting wind. Yet I know it. My wrists are Seized.
Turned. Cold steel slides across my palms, deep,cool, and biting.
"You've returned, Lady."
Her displeasure is evident in her tone. I become the obedient servant, as is my training. She has not told me to turn my palms, so they remain upright, and open to her.
"Silence! Speak not unless spoken to. Tonight's lesson.. What is it?"
My memory races, following my every endevour. Hesitantly, I attempt an answer.
"The eye Lies. Vision and seeing are not Kin. For even when one is capable of sight, darkness may still render one blind and ignorant."
Chirping of the night insects is the night's only orchestra for a few moments.. Unease ripples through my corpus.. Have I displeased her? Did I answer false?
The voice is far off now. Chanting strange words. Is she abandoning me to my fate?
"Sing to the Blood. Follow the Red Road.. When you would be otherwise Blind, See Truth this way. Stray not too far however, for otherwise it shall not hear thee, and Blind you will remain."
Focus instantly turns to her. Veins hum and throb with resonance as I echo the verses.
Scuffling patters through the leaves.Howls echo in the distance. of things that should not be.
Her Kin.
The Darkness becomes Scarlet, a sanguine film. I behold my disheveled form before me. For a few moments, all I can do is gape in horror.
A pair of blooded orbs peer up at me from crimson puddles in my palms.
Blue eyes.
My eyes.
My lost eyes.
I begin to retch.
Ritual 2: Sanguine Spies
"Cruor est Vita," Or So they say. Perhaps for a Kine. But for us.. It is far more.
I reflect upon this as I wander desultory through lonesome wooded passages. Supplejack clings to my skirts like a frightened babe as I pass, but I have no time for being idle tonight. My feet carelessly turn it aside, ignoring the herbaceous cry for comfort. The moon has risen, and her lips have kissed a fever within my thoughts. It is this sweet caress that has driven me into the gloom, and yet I know not why. Under the shadow of a Puriri, wetness trickles down my throat, soaking into my shirt. Almost absent-mindedly, I reach up to wipe away the moisture.
My hand now shines, coated in a scarlet film.
I am suddenly uneasy.
My Eyes flick upward. An Empty canopy.
Back. Forth.. No being. No sound.
Downward. A small spot of crimson residue at my feet. Nothing more.
Yet.. Something Is there. I can feel it..
Cautiously, I persevere. More deliberately, with greater care.
A soft breeze whispers through the glades like a sigh..
I am Certain I heard my name within that shadowy zephyr.
Perhaps..
No, I must be mistaken.
..and yet..
A branch cracks close by. Behind me, a thin utterance.
Run!
Branches score grooves in pale flesh as I dart through the undergrowth. Twigs snap, Vines reach out imploringly, slowing my escape, encircling my feet. Near-blind in the inky gloom, the frantic gestures seem near comical as the ground fall out from under me.
Rolling and turning, and crashing ever downward, my limbs are threshed against ancient trees. Thrown and tossed and shaken about like a rag-doll, a sudden thump ends my decent.
Maimed and senseless, I lie on a bed of young saplings, holding held me fast. Sharp pain tears through the front of my skull.. Once. Twice. Then all is silence.
After a time, I open my eyes.
Darkness.
Blinking, rubbing, and other ministrations yield no relief. Closing my eyes, I begin shunting precious vitae. Healing the smaller wounds, I sense the beast's growing hunger within me. My eyes open again.
Darkness.
I still cannot see.
Stumbling about, helpless as a newborn chick, I locate a branch, and tap it around experimentally.
"Stop that. It makes you look rediculous."
The voice is right next to my ear. A cold and cutting wind. Yet I know it. My wrists are Seized.
Turned. Cold steel slides across my palms, deep,cool, and biting.
"You've returned, Lady."
Her displeasure is evident in her tone. I become the obedient servant, as is my training. She has not told me to turn my palms, so they remain upright, and open to her.
"Silence! Speak not unless spoken to. Tonight's lesson.. What is it?"
My memory races, following my every endevour. Hesitantly, I attempt an answer.
"The eye Lies. Vision and seeing are not Kin. For even when one is capable of sight, darkness may still render one blind and ignorant."
Chirping of the night insects is the night's only orchestra for a few moments.. Unease ripples through my corpus.. Have I displeased her? Did I answer false?
The voice is far off now. Chanting strange words. Is she abandoning me to my fate?
"Sing to the Blood. Follow the Red Road.. When you would be otherwise Blind, See Truth this way. Stray not too far however, for otherwise it shall not hear thee, and Blind you will remain."
Focus instantly turns to her. Veins hum and throb with resonance as I echo the verses.
Scuffling patters through the leaves.Howls echo in the distance. of things that should not be.
Her Kin.
The Darkness becomes Scarlet, a sanguine film. I behold my disheveled form before me. For a few moments, all I can do is gape in horror.
A pair of blooded orbs peer up at me from crimson puddles in my palms.
Blue eyes.
My eyes.
My lost eyes.
I begin to retch.