OOC: Well everyone tells me that my Daeva is the creepiest, scariest bastard they have ever played with.  (That he blows Dallas out of the water for scary . . . wow!) He actually has political agendas, plots, and motivations, so I've been keeping my posts short and cutting out major chunks of what is really in his head from mass consumption, hence my short and scarce posts of late.

I was writing this piece for my own amusement, it reveals quite a bit about what is in his head at times so I almost didn't post it, but then I decided, why not?  I really like this piece.  Its short, one scene from last game, giving only his perspective of the events, but I think it says a lot.  I even get to use my flowery speech mode.

( The Lion and the . . . )

[	mood	|	tired	]
[	music	|	"Cold Water Morning" Neil Diamond	]

OOC:   Step into the cave . . . as you go deeper, look around.  Images of Native American Drawings decorate the walls, entering a large open area, the center is dominated by a straight pole drove into the ground and a spinning disco ball.  To one side is a large native american drum and a fire pit. 

   There, deeper still, the passage continues, then branches go off to either side.  Come in, explore the recesses of this cave . . . .

( Cut For Your Pleasure . . . )

[	mood	|	amused	]
[	music	|	"A Tout Le Monde" Megadeth	]

OOC: Short bits from Saturdays game with my new character.  I hope everyone enjoys them, I'm really starting to get into this new guy.  Still working on a lock down on a few aspects before I can open up his history for tie ins (possible sire connection pending, which could drastically change age.) 

Those of you who were there, yes, I specifically am telling these out of order, for my own twisted story reasons.

( Moments . . . )

OOC: Special thanks to Alex.  Lyrics from "Bloody Kisses" Type O Negative.

Enjoy.

( IC: )

I posted this to my Domain's e-mail list today, but some folks only read my stuff here.  Also, I thought maybe, just maybe this might be relevant or of topic to some of the other folks who read this space.

In short, I've missed the last month's games locally.  Second time in 5 years I've missed a local game, the previous time I was extremely ill.  This is my response to the players, but it sums up a lot of what I've been feeling/dealing with Cam wise for a while now.  Read it if you are interesested.

( more . . . )

[

mood

|

amused

]

The First

 The sun set slowly behind the ridge.  The rich smell of turned earth, black top soil laid bare to the sky father’s touch by a hard days work drifted through their cabin.  Crawling into bed next to his sister, he lay down beside her, pulling the furs up over himself, one arm instinctively moving to embrace her protectively. 

 Father was away to a gather of the Clan, Mother was already asleep in her bed.  The dogs stirred by the fire as it crackled, lifting their head to look around as the wind picked up suddenly, knocking something down outside.  She stirs next to him, but does not waken. He shifts so as to have a better view of the door.  The cattle mew low and soft, something spooking them.  His eyes grow heavy as he watches the door. 

 ( BANG! )

[

mood

|

tired

]

OOC:  Well, been busy for a bit with real life.  Still am really, but I'm trying to get my new PC into play.  I'm about ready to start serious work on background ties and really want lots of them, but it will probably be post X-mas retail life before that will be able to happen on my part.

Anyway, let me know if you like it or hate it so far.  This should be . . . interesting.

( Contemplating her still form . . . . )

OOC:  This is written mainly for my own amusement.  If you read this, don't think you have a damn clue about this ever happening.  First one of you biz natches that so much as reacts differently to Scrivener then you have in the past will be getting my foot up your nether regions.  I share this only out of the goodness of my own heart to once more risk sharing my story.  Maybe I'm a damn fool for this after all the B.S. I've been through for doing it, but lets see what happens.

So seriously, there won't be some minor prestige loss or a slap on the wrist, there will be someone getting "choked out" as one of my dearest friends likes to say currently.

So, warning given, if you can't follow that, don't read this.

( Scrivener  )

OOC:  Short piece.  Aftermath of a scene run on the chapter boards under the Mattox Mansion title "Frustration" if you're interested in the build up.

IC:

 He runs from the library, chased out of his one refuge by the invasion of barbarians that have moved into his very home.

 The modern nights were too fast, too lacking in propriety, the walls seemed to push in on him as he moved, seeking some place safe.  He reached for his watch, but it was gone, instead, Lily’s watch comes out of his pocket.  He pops it open looking at it and the hands begin to move around it at an ever increasing pace.  He is losing, losing it all. The walls buckle around him, everything closing in on him. 

 The sounds drifted out to the street as he approached.  Yet those could not be coming from his home, perhaps one of the neighbors were being entirely too loud in their pleasure.  He adjusts the papers he carries with him, running over the information in his mind again, he needed to finish copying these over, to protect these census documents from degradation of time. 

 Hurrying along, trying to beat the setting sun, he approached his dwelling with little other thought then that of seeing his wife again.  Opening the door, he set his papers down on the foyer table, took off his jacket and hat, then started to enter the house proper when he again heard the loud moans followed by laughter.  His hand stops, resting on the door handle, only the slightest tremor betrays him.  Turning around, he replaces his coat and hat to himself, gathers the papers and leaves the home, heading back to his work.

 “She doesn’t understand,” he mutters to himself, pacing.  He looks around, realizing he is in the basement now.  He crosses the room, coming to one of the few mirrors in the house.  Staring into it he slowly reaches up, touching the gold gilded mask he wears.  The strange silver eyes staring back at him, not his own intensely blue, but the burns running down from under the mask are what hold his attention the most. 

 His fingers find the under side of the mask, touching it lightly, then slowly he raises it out and removes it from his face.  The scars revealed are more severe then the ones he normally allows the world to see.  As the mask goes away, the right eye falls slightly out of the socket, no longer held in by the pressure.  The mask falls from his fingers, clattering to the floor.  Fingers rising up to slowly trace the lines of the scars. 
 
 “She cannot,” he mutters.  “I can only offer her my work.”  His hand smashes into the mirror, shattering it; dozens of scarred faces look back at him.  One small blood tear slowly falls down from the undamaged left eye.

co‧da –noun

a concluding section or part, esp. one of a conventional form and serving as a summation of preceding themes, motifs, etc., as in a work of literature or drama.

OOC:  I don't think I've ever played something through to its actual end.  When I write stories, I prefer to look at them as a window into a moment in time of a character.  We join them, ride with them through the event (the plot) then we leave when that is over.  So, for this PC and for my dear friend camarilla_cast I wanted to write an ending. 

But is any ending really the end?  Is it over when its over, or is it over when the threads woven can no longer be felt?

Dallas was one of those rare moments that turn into magic.  I made him as a toss off character.  An elder Gangrel gunslinger.  That was the concept.  Then, because he was short term, I thought, hell I wonder how many folks I can diablerize before someone comes to Lamar to gack him?  You see, I had this bloodline I really wanted to play, I was working on it hard core and he was just filling time while I got the approvals lined up.

Then something happened.  The Bloodline got shut down for several reasons but in that time, Dallas started taking on his own life.  I put out a call for connections, cause now I'm stuck with this guy.  I got a handful.  One from a person I'd only known at a distance for my years in the Cam, KBH.  We worked out this little tid bit of history where they were ex-lovers.  She was a "Mamma Gangrel" and he had a penchant for picking up stray pups, so it was neat and tied in.

Then GLaRE happened and it became magical.  Everything changed. Kelley and I hit it off IC and OOC and it was a defnining moment of the character and I dare say the event itself in a lot of ways. 

So special thanks to those who bent their concepts and worked with me to make this happen:

Kelley Barnes-Hermann, Rob Overmeyer, Logan Boatfield, Crystal Remy, DeAnna Ross, Charlotte Wrestler, Geneva Pfalser, and the entire Lamar Chapter of the Camarilla.  Each of you added your parts to this story and made it great.  Each of you have become my closest friends and mean more to me then I really have words to share.

I will miss this PC.  In a way I'm a bit awed by him.   I'm honored to have portrayed him and that he let me go for the ride of this story.  I hope, that in some way, he added to everyones game and the bigger chronicle. 

( Goodbye Dallas. )

[

mood

|

cold

]

 Vote for your favorites or add your own.  These are all things that were actually said IC by my PC Dallas.

1)      “Someone call the Ordo Dracul, fucking Dracula just walked in the room.”

In response to a PC walking in to the game with a Widows Peak hair, plastic fangs, black cape over a suit, complete with Pendant.

2)      “Oh my fucking God!  Its Colonel Sanders, the god damn fucking Chicken King!  Tell me, was it 13 or 14 special spices?”

In response to a new Gangrel named Sanders.

3)      “Oh and tell Joe I’m real sorry about his arm,” as he hands the arm of the Prince Tillinghast to Regina after he had ripped it off of him.

4)      “Are you making fun of me boy?”

Response to Sanders when he first spoke to Dallas, using the exact same voice Dallas did.

5)      “MR. AIMER!  MR. AIMER!” Jeffrey Sands from a Helicopter over a loudspeaker.

Dallas runs up a tree, jumps onto the front of the helicopter.

      “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WOODS!”

6)      Ring Ring.  Ring Ring.   – CRUNCH.

“Dallas really doesn’t like cell phones,” Regina Rorke.

7)      “The Woods are Pack Territory,” Dallas to the latest Prince.

“Translation:  Don’t try to claim it as your Domain!” Regina Rorke.

8)      “I beat Dallas, I beat Dallas!” Adrian “The Cock” dancing around the ring.

“Yeah, you did, but I won $5,000,” Dallas replies.

“You mean you threw the match?”

9)      “Damn you look good . . .” Wanna fuck? Dallas to Aspasia after seeing her for the first time in 50 years.

10)  “Dallas reads poetry?” Elijah.

“Dallas reads?” Violet.

11)  “Are you looking at her tits?” Dallas to ‘Dracula’.

“Me?  No!”

“Why, don’t you like titties?  That’s a damn fine pair, hell I was looking at them!”

12)  “So who’s the next moron that is going to stand up?”  Dallas to the crowded room.

“Me!” Gabriel Lionheart, standing up.

*GACK *

      “So WHO’S the next moron that is going to stand up?” Dallas.

13)  “Oh, sorry about your Sire.  Vedis over there fucked him up the ass till his head popped off.  No shit.  Damndest thing I ever saw.”

Dallas to the child of the now dead Prince of Columbia.

14)  “I think he/she just needs a good killin’.”  Dallas about multiple people.

15)  “Damn, I got fleas again.”

Regina hands him a loufa and flea shampoo.

[

mood

|

disappointed

]

OOC: This is what I am calling 'semi-torpor' dreams.  I don't know really what to call them.  They are writings.  Story.  New angles on highlights of this character as I work in my own mind to finish him off. 

Yes, soon he will more then likely be gone, much to the amusement of many many people who will no doubt be happier that he is gone. So take it for what they are worth. 

( Acts )

[	Tags	|	torpor dreams	]
[	mood	|	sad	]

OOC:  Sad news today, so this is in honor of fallen comrades.  I will miss this PC very much.  One last bit of love for camarilla_cast and her creation.  I look forward to your new creation!

( Respite )

OOC: More short bits of amusement to entertain myself with. 

( IC: )