Arrival - Good [CW: Vampire-related injury, blood, questioning of one's mental state] And the Malkavian bat, blinder than all the rest, swooped down and managed to miss the entire elephant. Aha! said the benighted Malkavian, as it flapped past. The others are making a huge fuss over an elephant that is really a big lot of nothing! Well that is what I shall become.
She didn't know why that was the first thought to cross her mind, as she followed the mystery girl. Especially given the fact that she was pretty sure she was dead. Dead-dead, anyway. Still, the old parable actually made her smile a little bit as she sat up on the floor of the unfamiliar room, scabs itching. The Elephant and the Blind Vampire Bats was a story Diana used to tell the children on the compound. An easy way to remember the different kinds of Cainites. The Malkavian verse had always struck her as something of a joke. The sort that Artemis would play on other Cainites, when she was pretending to be loopier than she was. Like Hamlet or Odysseus or Snooki.
Well. The mind coped the way the mind coped.
She followed silently, her arms and legs sticking to the fabric of her ratty, white dress a little where they were still bloody from all the bite marks pockmarking her alabaster skin. Every inch of her was covered, except for her face and--ironically enough--her neck.
...Hell looked a lot like downtown Cleveland at night. Made sense. She always hated the Midwest. Brow furrowed, Diana continued down the sidewalk, unconsciously leaving bloody footprints behind her. The longer she walked, the more she wondered when she would see the fires. Whatever else it was, Hell definitely wasn't living up to her expectations. Or down to them?
And where the hell did she think she was going?
Wait...was that a hotel?
The Odeon [CW: Showtunes] It didn't take any of her supernatural powers to get Diana on the stage. Just a smile, and a certain need apparent in her lavender eyes, that told the stage manager that music would soothe her soul. She didn't have her own guitar, so she had to borrow one, but that didn't matter so much. Diana could make music out of anything. And the guitar was in good shape, perfectly tuned. When she started to sing, her voice was like a crystal drop, falling into a pond, sending ripples out into eternity:
And for the boy who's given me the sweetest love I've known I wish for him another love so he won't be alone But I am bound to walk among the wounded and the slain And when the storm comes crashing on the plane I will dance before the lightning, to music sacred and profane...
She'd actually written the song for Artemis and her somewhat tragic love life. But really, all three York sisters were pretty unlucky in love, so it could have been about Arty, Selene, or Diana herself.
Tonight, though, it was more about exercising her metaphorical demons than anything else. She'd been through A Lot. And she was alive. And she was whole. And yes, she was stuck in the God-forsaken Midwest, apparently. The true tragedy being this was the best off she'd been in a long time. She just had to find the music again. Find a way to be herself again.
And if it wasn't music, it was going to be shameless flirting, but she wasn't sure she was ready for that just yet.
Wildcard [Come at me, friends. Open to pretty much anything. Will match prose or action. And Diana's info is in her journal, if you want it!]
Diana Abel | Vampire: The Masquerade
[CW: Vampire-related injury, blood, questioning of one's mental state]
And the Malkavian bat, blinder than all the rest, swooped down and managed to miss the entire elephant. Aha! said the benighted Malkavian, as it flapped past. The others are making a huge fuss over an elephant that is really a big lot of nothing! Well that is what I shall become.
She didn't know why that was the first thought to cross her mind, as she followed the mystery girl. Especially given the fact that she was pretty sure she was dead. Dead-dead, anyway. Still, the old parable actually made her smile a little bit as she sat up on the floor of the unfamiliar room, scabs itching. The Elephant and the Blind Vampire Bats was a story Diana used to tell the children on the compound. An easy way to remember the different kinds of Cainites. The Malkavian verse had always struck her as something of a joke. The sort that Artemis would play on other Cainites, when she was pretending to be loopier than she was. Like Hamlet or Odysseus or Snooki.
Well. The mind coped the way the mind coped.
She followed silently, her arms and legs sticking to the fabric of her ratty, white dress a little where they were still bloody from all the bite marks pockmarking her alabaster skin. Every inch of her was covered, except for her face and--ironically enough--her neck.
...Hell looked a lot like downtown Cleveland at night. Made sense. She always hated the Midwest. Brow furrowed, Diana continued down the sidewalk, unconsciously leaving bloody footprints behind her. The longer she walked, the more she wondered when she would see the fires. Whatever else it was, Hell definitely wasn't living up to her expectations. Or down to them?
And where the hell did she think she was going?
Wait...was that a hotel?
The Odeon
[CW: Showtunes]
It didn't take any of her supernatural powers to get Diana on the stage. Just a smile, and a certain need apparent in her lavender eyes, that told the stage manager that music would soothe her soul. She didn't have her own guitar, so she had to borrow one, but that didn't matter so much. Diana could make music out of anything. And the guitar was in good shape, perfectly tuned. When she started to sing, her voice was like a crystal drop, falling into a pond, sending ripples out into eternity:
And for the boy who's given me the sweetest love I've known
I wish for him another love so he won't be alone
But I am bound to walk among the wounded and the slain
And when the storm comes crashing on the plane
I will dance before the lightning, to music sacred and profane...
She'd actually written the song for Artemis and her somewhat tragic love life. But really, all three York sisters were pretty unlucky in love, so it could have been about Arty, Selene, or Diana herself.
Tonight, though, it was more about exercising her metaphorical demons than anything else. She'd been through A Lot. And she was alive. And she was whole. And yes, she was stuck in the God-forsaken Midwest, apparently. The true tragedy being this was the best off she'd been in a long time. She just had to find the music again.
Find a way to be herself again.
And if it wasn't music, it was going to be shameless flirting, but she wasn't sure she was ready for that just yet.
Wildcard
[Come at me, friends. Open to pretty much anything. Will match prose or action. And Diana's info is in her journal, if you want it!]