| Welcome to Night Whispers. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| Arlington, Va 1859 (part 3) One Month Later; CLOSED TOPIC - DO NOT POST | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 12 2005, 10:16 PM (283 Views) | |
| Isiladura | Jun 12 2005, 10:16 PM Post #1 |
|
Unregistered
|
Dear Diary, It's been one month since I left Savannah. I talked to Momma on our second night here. I told her what I wanted and who I wanted to be with. She actually smiled. It's the first time I've ever seen her smile. I mean a real and genuine smile. She'd met Dillon our first night here. She liked him. I could tell it. But, she, of course, has the same concerns as everyone else. I am so tired of the society that claims to be free and yet punishes those who do things that are not wrong... I promised Dillon I would stay here as long as it took--just to be with him. If I have to move here, I will. Anything to keep me away from Jefferson...I have come to despise him. I do not ever want to see his face again. Momma told me in a letter that he has asked about me several times. She told him I had fallen ill and she had no new news. I hope he does not come trying to find me... I do wish Dillon would--just once--tell me if he loved me. It would be nice to know. I know it's not socially acceptable, so I will never hear those words from his lips...Of course, there are other things I'd like him to do, as well. Since this is my diary, I suppose I can tell...No, no, I'd better not. If I write out my wish, it won't come true. So, I'll just keep it a secret. Mr. Monroe has been very loyal to Dillon and myself, not betraying our friendship or our ...attepmt?...at a relationship. He has been most kind, though, I must admit I do not think I treat him well. Perhaps I should buy him some chocolates to make up for my bad behavior. Which reminds me, I should buy Dillon something. I gave him a diary book last month. I need to give him something else--something more personal...I will have to think about my gift to him. I should go for now... Love, Isi Isiladura smiled as she set her diary--still opened--on the nightstand next to her bed. She'd been writing for a month about Dillon and her dreams. Every time she'd wake up, she'd write all that she remembered upon the blank pages. Some of the passages would make her blush as she re-read them, but she enjoyed the memories of her dreams. She adjusted her nightgown and blew out the candle and crawled into her bed, snuggling under the covers. Laying her head against the pillow, she closed her eyes and smiled, murmmering, "Maybe tonight he will knock on my door and we will be able to see each other..." Flipping on to her side, she snuggled up again and drifted into sleep... |
|
|
| Dillon Cloudhawk | Jun 12 2005, 10:57 PM Post #2 |
![]()
Tremere Primogen of Dallas
![]()
|
He had left Garith and Isi an hour ago. Their evening had been both enjoyable and frustrating. Dillon was finding that even though he was the one that had insisted that Isiladura never be alone in his company that he longed to break that rule. She had been true to her word, and played the southern lady, to the hilt. That grated on him. Oh she was a lady through and through, but she wasn’t ‘his’ Isi. The bold thoughts were quickly suppressed when others were around to hear. Dillon stared down at the diary before him. He had formed a habit of late, of writing down his thoughts. At first he had used the gift as a way to take notes, when he was in the chantry; from there it evolved into a journal of sorts. Slowly he set down his pen, and re-read his last few sentences. Is it that she is the forbidden fruit, or is it that I truly love her? I fear it is the latter, though it is known that with age and time, we loose our mortal feelings, and become but unfeeling creatures. Dare I go act upon these fading emotions that are but shadows of my once human form, or do I send her away, never to lay eyes upon her again. Slowly he reached out and picked up the pen, carefully dipping it into the ink jar before penning his last thought. Perhaps I am that evil beast to be feared. I know I can never let her go, may the gods forgive me. Slowly and methodically Dillon began to straighten up his desk. The ink was capped the pen put back in the drawer the diary carefully stowed under lock and key in the bottom drawer. Satisfied he stood his stoic expression in place as he left the study of his father’s home. After a month in her presence, he could no longer deny what he felt, what he needed. His soul was already damned, what was one more blot. He was dressed in all black, his hair free flowing about his face and shoulders as he moved though the night air. He had but one destination in mind, one purpose and intent. Isiladura. No one saw or heard the Tremere vampire enter the hotel. His presence undetectable as he moved as one with the darkness and towards her room, and upon reaching it entered without hesitation. He could hear the gentle breaths which stirred the air about her lips and nose as she slept. His dark eyes watched her for long moments, drinking in her beauty. Her delicate profile framed upon the white pillowcase, her porcelain skin had his fingers longing to caress it. Dillon hungered for her as a man and yet he couldn’t deny he longed to also taste of her blood. His hands slowly went up to his shirt, his fingers expertly unbuttoning it. She stirred and he grew still, only moving again when he knew she slept on. The shirt was carefully placed over the chest at the foot of the bed, then his hands fell to his pants. Moments later Dillon slipped under the covers joining her in the soft warm cocoon she had created. “Isi..” He whispered lowering his mouth to hover over hers. He waited until her eyes flickered open, then took her lips, kissing her with a gentle passion. |
![]() |
|
| Isiladura | Jun 12 2005, 11:13 PM Post #3 |
|
Unregistered
|
"Mmmm..." she moaned out softly, her eyes fluttering open. It took her a moment, but she blinked several times, expecting the dream to evaporate before her. He didn't. "Dillon?!" She hadn't much time to say or do anything else for his lips were upon hers in a passionate embrace. As he pulled back from her she opened her eyes and stared at him. She still couldn't believe it. This was Dillon, after all. Still. He seemed real enough. She lifted a hand to his face and touched it lightly, a smile curling onto her lips. Her heart was, indeed, pounding out of her chest. It is a rather frightful thing for one to be enjoying such dreams as she only to be suddenly awakened and find the very subject of the dream to be physically manifested in one's very presence. She moved a lock of hair from his face. "It really is yew..." she whispered, the smile widening. "Kiss me again, Dillon...please? Ah've dreamed of kissing yo' lips for a month...of having yew he'uh with me...Ah have to know yo' real...an' not just a dream..." Her fingers caressed his face and her other hand stroked his hair. He was so handsome--and this night, even more so. She glanced to her diary on the nightstand and smiled slightly at the thought she had had earlier in the evening and how she chose not to write it done for fear it would not come true. But it was... It was happening. Dillon had come to her in the darkness and had slipped unnoticed into her room and was lying next to her. She felt almost sinful as she drew her lips nearer his, knowing what would happen and what was at stake. But Dillon was not thinking of consequences at this time--and neither was she. Breaking the kiss, she looked him in the eyes and spoke softly and seriously. "Dillon...Ah...Ah want yew to be my f'uhst...and only..." Her dark brown eyes sparkled in the moonlight that poured through her window. Her dark knight was here to rescue her and that was all that mattered to her. Soon, they would be free--really and truly free... |
|
|
| Dillon Cloudhawk | Jun 13 2005, 10:07 AM Post #4 |
![]()
Tremere Primogen of Dallas
![]()
|
The first….and only… He had always known, but it wasn’t until she spoke the words that it became a reality. His eyes searched hers for long silent moments. He had made his decision when he came here, and now, hearing her words, part of him knew he should pull away and leave. He wasn’t going to. Dillon didn’t say a word as he lowered his head once more. She had made her decision, so be it, and she would be his from this day forward. While he wouldn’t offer her the dark gift right away, he did plan on approaching the Regent and discussing it with him. She had potential both as a mate and for the Tremere clan. Her forward looking could bring a fresh perspective to them in many areas. She was disrobed, slowly, giving her time to protest or pull back. When their flesh touched unencumbered by material for the first time, there was no going back. Dillon took his time, wanting her first experience to be something she would look back on with joy. He encouraged her to know him as he was learning her. Her soft moans filled the night air to be captured by his lips as he finally acceded to both their wishes and united their flesh. Much later the Tremere rolled taking her with him so that she lay on his chest. His hands ran down her silken back offering comfort. He had never loved any as he did her, she was his opposite in so many ways, yet she completed him. Isi now owned him, whether she realized it or not, she held his dark soul within her small hand. Dillon had no regrets, and was now looking only towards the future. He placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead the murmured softly “Rest.” |
![]() |
|
| Isiladura | Jun 13 2005, 11:01 AM Post #5 |
|
Unregistered
|
Never before had she felt such passions. Never before had she felt as if her entire body would explode then gather itself together in trembling fragments to cling to each other and sustain her life. Dillon was her life. When they were through, he rolled her on top of him and she snuggled against him. Her heart pounded in her head and she thought for sure she'd felt his beating just as wildly. Or had she? He kissed her forehead and she smiled to him. "Rest," he heard his soft voice speak to her. Rest? How could she rest!? She'd been dreaming of this time with him for a month and now he wanted her to rest? Her heart was pounding and her thoughts were racing. She kissed his lips and smiled to him. "Ah'll rest when Ah'm dead, Dillon...Ah'm just excited yo' he'uh...an' that yew chose to come..." She slipped off him to lie beside him, snuggling close. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and laid her arm on his chest, her hand lightly resting over his heart. Snuggling closer to him, she closed her eyes and just allowed herself to be. Dillon. Here with her right now. No one was interfering. No one was complaining or starring. No one was around, but he and she. She also thought she'd never been so sleepy in all her life. There was something magical in his kiss... Soon, her rhythmic breathing indicated she'd fallen back asleep. Soft moans escaping her lips indicated of what she was dreaming... |
|
|
| Dillon Cloudhawk | Jun 13 2005, 12:13 PM Post #6 |
![]()
Tremere Primogen of Dallas
![]()
|
As much as he wanted to stay, he couldn’t. Intimacy such as they had just shared brought with it, a different form of danger, one that could break the masquerade. Had she been a woman of experience and not caught up in the newest of her emotions and sensations, she would have noted his heart did not beat, he did not breath nor did his body tremble with exertion as a living males. Until he had permission to bring her into the Tremere clan, he still had to walk a fine line, protecting the masquerade. Once her breathing soften and her body relaxed, signaling she was once again asleep, Dillon carefully slipped from the bed. He tucked the covers tenderly around her body one hand lightly caressed her cheek, before he turned away and dressed. He never realized how hard it would be to leave her know that she was his. For long silent moments he stared down at her slumbering form, then forced himself to look away and leave her room. It was early morning, still dark and quite safe for him, or as safe as it ever became for a vampire when he strode down the street. He priority now was to talk to the Regent, and present him with Isiladura, He had no idea how his actions would be looked upon, but was confident that he would get permission to bring her into their clan. A smile touched his lips at the thought. A lifetime with the woman he loved. Who could ask for more. |
![]() |
|
| Isiladura | Jun 13 2005, 02:29 PM Post #7 |
|
Unregistered
|
As the daylight began to stream through her window, Isiladura stirred. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked about. Her nightgown lay on the chest at the foot of her bed. She frowned. Dillon was no where to be seen. Maybe it had been a dream. She pushed back the covers. She froze for a moment as she noticed a few crimson stains upon the white sheets of the bed. A smile slowly came to her lips. It wasn't a dream. Her body ached slightly and she giggled giddily. She grabbed her diary and detailed the night's events. Sliding out of her bed, she walked to the bathtub and smiled. There was warm water waiting for her. She poured it into the tub and climbed in. As she sat, she remembered every detail of the night prior, a smile on her lips. Her heart qucikened as she thought of Dillon and his passion. As she finished cleansing herself of the world's cares and society's sins, a light knock on the door came. She jumped, startled at the minor intrusion of her morning's reverie. A letter slipped under the door and retreating footsteps indicated the person was in no hurry to speak with her. Wrapping herself in a towel, she walked to the letter and picked it up. It was from her mother. Isiladura's eyes grew wide. She tore open the letter and began to read. Not comprehending the news, she re-read it. "Oh my gawd...Dillon..." Jefferson was coming for a "visit." Fortunately for her, Garith's last day in Arlington was this day. He was being sent elsewhere for the time. She planned on giving him the chocolates she'd spoken of in her diary the night prior. And he would be arriving soon. She raced around her room, dressing in a light blue day dress with black lace trim and her white satin gloves. Drawing her hair up loosely, she allowed the ringlets to bounce as she moved her head. Just as she was grabbing her parasol, a knock came on her door. It was Garith. When she opened the door, he could see something was different about her. She seemed radiant, although, she had a kind of looming fear hanging about her. But, she was in such a hurry to leave--and give Garith his present--that she forgot to take up her little black book. It remained on her nightstand. As the day turned into evening, Garith returned her to her hotel room. He kissed her cheek and hugged her, thanking her for the present as well as her friendship. She smiled and wiped away a tear from her eye as he turned and walked away. She had a feeling she'd see him again, she just wasn't sure where. They had promised to keep in touch, so she was certian he would let her know how he fared. Turning, she opened her door and stepped inside, closing and locking it behind her. Walking to the mirror, she bit her lip and smiled softly. She would be able to see Dillon tonight...and maybe things would go just as well as last night... She began to take off her gloves when she felt two hands on her shoulders. She looked up into the mirror but saw no one. Terror gripped her heart. Spinning around, she stood face to face with a very...demonic looking...Jefferson McClintock. "Hello, Isiladura. Forget about me, already?" He asked sinisterly, holding up her diary. Isi thought her stomach had fallen out of her body. He'd read it--every word of it. He knew about Dillon and her. "Jeff-Jeff-Jefferson..." she studdered. "Welcome t' Ahlington..." He sneered and tossed the book on her bed. She glanced in the mirror. He cast no reflection. She gasped and looked back at him. "What a'he yew!?" "Your lover. He is the same as me...this Dillon Cloudhawk. We suck your blood, Isiladura. What do you think he did to you last night? Hmmm? You think he just made love to you? Did you feel a pinch on your neck?" Isiladura could not believe what she was hearing. Dillon? A vampire? That was impossible. But, she didn't have much time to think for Jefferson flew upon her, cranking her head to the side, exposing the flesh of her neck. "You want to be with him? I'll make it so..." With a scream of pain and fear from Isiladura, Jefferson plunged his teeth into her neck. She began to cry, trying to fight him. A few cries were heard through the door, but by the time those that heard it arrived at the room, Jefferson had taken his prize out of the window and into the cemetery. He knew a guy that knew a guy there and with the borrowed shovel, he dug a shallow grave. Slicing his wrist, he dripped a few drops of blood into her mouth, then covered her up. When she awoke, she felt hollow...empty...alone. She was in total darkness. Pushing against the sod, she opened her mouth to scream. All she got was a mouthfull of dirt. Furious at the prospect of being buried alive, she began to claw her way through the sod. As she worked to get out into the cool night air, she began to feel...faint...disoriented...violent. Once she arose from her make-shift grave, she had an insatiable need to feed upon the blood of a human. Looking around, she saw a child standing, staring in terror as she clawed her way out of the grave. Her dark eyes were now black as pitch and her canine's elongated. She stared at the child then lept, capturing him in her arms and feeding from the young one's blood. Moments later as she held the dead child in her arms, horror gripped her. She looked around...no one was nearby. She looked back at the child again and pushed him from her. She tried to cry, but all that came were tears of blood. "What have yew done to me, Jeff'uhson!?" she sobbed. Carrying the child to the grave, she buried him and walked back to the hotel. She said nothing as she passed the patrons or the barkeep. She just walked up to her room and closed the door. She had to see Dillon...she had to know--she had to know if Jefferson had told her the truth... She just prayed that Dillon would still love her...even though she was now...a monster... |
|
|
| Dillon Cloudhawk | Jun 14 2005, 09:55 AM Post #8 |
![]()
Tremere Primogen of Dallas
![]()
|
The discussion had ended on a positive note; the Regent was interested and others would be brought in to evaluate her, as Dillon wasn't considered objective enough to make the final call. The Tremere couldn't have been more pleased. A chantry ghoul was awaiting him when he emerged, handing him a note and bowing. Dillon recognized Gariths handwriting almost immediately. The two men had over the course of the past month developed a solid foundation on their blooming friendship. His note was brief, informing the Tremere that he was returning back to the academy, his father had completed his business and they were leaving that very evening. Dillon nodded his thanks to the young man quickly leaving the chantry, in hopes of meeting up with the young cadet before he left. It was early evening, and since Garith was departing and Isi’s mother was back home, Dillon wouldn’t be seeking her out. Though he had plans to return to her room to see her much later that night when all were in bed asleep. He pondered who they could get as a chaperone now that the younger man had to go back to his duties. Dillon decided to ask his father, he would shirly know a matron or two that would be willing to accompany them on evening outings. Dillon was in luck, he caught up with Garith and his father as they were exiting the hotel. He shook the older mans hand, having only spoken to him a few times, but had taken an immediate liking to him. The Tremere invited the younger man to join him for a small walk, knowing the stage wouldn’t leave for a few moments yet. He took out a piece of paper and handed it to the cadet, upon it was his father’s address. “A way to reach me.” He murmured quietly. Their goodbyes were short followed with handshakes and promises to keep in touch. Dillon watched stoically as his friend departed. He was a bit amazed to find he a wave of sadness flow over him. His eyes lingered on the hotel for a moment before he turned and walked away. It wasn’t possible to approach Isi now. Had he known what she was facing, nothing would have kept him away. Their entire future was changed in but one sweeping moment. It was well past midnight when he return, having spent the time deeply immersed in ancient texts at the chantry. Silently he slipped into the hotel. He hesitated only for a moment before entering her room. On this occasion he was the one to be surprised. Instead of asleep in bed, she was sitting quietly on the side of it. Her expression had him stilling. She was pale, disheveled, in a state he had never seen her in, and fear like he had never experienced ran though him. “Isi?” Dillon said softly as he forced himself not to rush to her side but slowly approach. She looked so fragile, like a sudden wind would sweep her away an out of his life. “Whats wrong? What happened?” |
![]() |
|
| Isiladura | Jun 14 2005, 10:14 AM Post #9 |
|
Unregistered
|
She felt so drained. Her hands trembled as she sat upon her bed, waiting for her secret and forbidden lover. The hours ticked away... Midnight. Her door opened slightly and she turned her head to view Dillon as he entered. She thought she would burst into tears. She felt so ashamed--so violated--so horrid. She knew he could sense her emotions. A few short strides and he was at her side. She looked at him hard for a moment, then took his hand and looked him in the eye. She sat still for several moments as if searching for something. Leaning closer, she kissed his lips and slipped her tongue into his mouth, running it over the edges of his upper teeth... Breaking the kiss, she leaned back and finally spoke. "Jeff'uhson came he'uh uh'lie'uh tonight," she paused and looked at the floor. "He tol' me some things Ah found a bit...disturbin'," she paused again and looked up at Dillon. She swallowed and tore her eyes from him, choking back the blood-tears welling up in her eyes. "He tol' me...that yew we'uhe..." she couldn't bring herself to say it. "Ah did somethin' horrible tonight, Dillon..." she said finally, staring at the floor. "Ah am so ashamed and Ah hope yew will fo'give me...Although, it may take some time...an'...an' Ah don't know...if yew will like me at all...aft'uh...what Ah done..." Standing, her stomach pitting, she walked over to the mirror and stood in front of it. Her reflection did not appear. "Ah kilt a child tonight, Dillon..." She burried her face in her hands. "Jeff'uhson came he'uhe, an' read my diary...he found out about yew and me...an...he beat me up, Dillon...then he said that if Ah wanted yew, he'd help me...an'...an'...he bit me..." she turned to Dillon, blood-tears spilling down her cheeks, and pointed to her neck. "Right he'uhe....Ah don't rememb'uh anything aft'uh that...Ah just rememb'uh wakin' up and bein' und'uh ground....an'....an'..." she couldn't continue. Crumpling to the floor, she began to cry. "Oh, Dillon!! What's happened to me!?" |
|
|
| Dillon Cloudhawk | Jun 14 2005, 10:58 AM Post #10 |
![]()
Tremere Primogen of Dallas
![]()
|
Knowledge of what she was hit him hard, effectively silencing him. He knew before she even walked to the mirror. What he had not known until that point was what clan she belonged to. Had it been possible to get physically ill, Dillon would have been at that moment. Anguish filled him. How could this have happened? It was one of the few times in his life where he was unable to hide what he felt. Pain, anger, and fear all ran though him, visible upon his face as he stared at her. Jefferson was going to face the final death, sooner than he anticipated. Hate for the Sabbat vampire flowed though his veins consuming him. Unthinkingly Dillon turned away from Isiludura, needing for one brief moment an outlet for the rage that was building up with in him. He picked up the first thing his hands laid upon, the sitting chair in the corner and swung it hard against the bed rail. Both shattered into pieces. The noise was loud enough to wake the dead, but at that moment he did not care. With a low hiss he turned dropping the arm pieces and took several steps towards the woman he loved. It wasn’t until he saw her expression, that he was able to regain control of himself. “No.” He groaned reaching out for her. “Do not fear me. Hate me if you must, but do not fear me.” He whispered pulling her into his arms. “You are …vampire….now forbidden to me.” He growled hugging her tight against him. “I could never hate you Isi, I love you.” His admission came to late, to tell her now, when they could never be together. He pulled back and looked down into her blood filled eyes. Sorrow filling his. “Yes.” He whispered. “I am.” |
![]() |
|
| Isiladura | Jun 14 2005, 11:30 AM Post #11 |
|
Unregistered
|
She leaned against him, sobbing. I could never hate you, Isi. I love you. His admission brought a new wave of tears to her eyes. She hugged him tightly to her. "Dillon, Ah've loved yew since Ah f'uhst saw yew...Ah could nev'uh hate yew...but, if yew a'he the same as Ah am...why a'he yew fo'bidden to me?" She pulled back a little from him so she could look into his face. She sniffed and reached a hand to her face to wipe away the bloody tears that poured over her death-pale skin. "Vampi'uh's live fo'ev'uh, right? Well...why can't we be togeth'uh? Ah don't und'uhstand...please, Dillon...don't leave me..." her voice became paniced. She'd never been so terrified in her entire life--except when Jefferson just appeared behind her but cast no reflection. She had no idea what was happening. She began starting to climb to her feet, a difficult prospect in her emotional condition. Stumbling a little, she finally stood, trembling. "Dillon, please don't...don't fo'bid me to yew...Ah've been a good g'uhl...Ah've done ev'rythin' Ah promised yew Ah would...Ah gave yew my hea'ht, my body...does that mean nothin' to yew? To anyone?" She was hurt. Angery. Frightened. Despondant. At that moment, the only thing she wanted was to be in Dillon's arms where she was safe. Turning to him, she looked at him steadily, then spoke softly, "Dillon...please hold me..." She held out her arms to him and waited... |
|
|
| Dillon Cloudhawk | Jun 14 2005, 11:47 AM Post #12 |
![]()
Tremere Primogen of Dallas
![]()
|
She was a childe, a fledgling with a sire that could appear at any moment. He knew this other had to be older than he, and more powerful. He doubted a young vampire would dare such a thing as was done to Isi, but he could be mistaken. Realistically Dillon doubted he was. They would have so little time together, both his unlife and hers were now at jeopardy. Should her sire appear, he knew he would have to move fast survive. His arms went around Isi, automatically while his mind raced. “You have much to learn, and I will not be able to teach you, it is impossible now.” He said softly into her hair. “Jefferson…” He bit out the name in anger “Is your sire, he holds sway over you until you are old enough to be on your own and survive.” Dillon held both her arms and pushed her back so he could look into her face. “I am Tremere you are LaSombra, there are many clans within our world.” He told her unable to keep the pain and sorrow from his words. “The LaSombra are of the Sabbat, I am of the Camarilla – we are sworn enemies…..” He didn’t see an enemy when he looked into his loves eyes, all he saw was the woman he loved, and wanted to spend the rest of his unlife with. Dillon pulled her back into his arms and took her lips with his in what was almost a desperate kiss. Groaning he swung her up into his arms and carried her over to the bed, avoiding the broken chair and splintered post. “I love you.” He breathed against her lips again. “No matter what our futures bring, never doubt that Isi. Never.” Gently he lowered her to the bed then followed her down, kissing her with all the love he had inside him. |
![]() |
|
| Isiladura | Jun 14 2005, 12:05 PM Post #13 |
|
Unregistered
|
His words stabbed at her like a thousand ice picks. She hadn't asked for this. She just wanted to be with Dillon and no one else. Dillon treated her like a lady. He never hit her. He hadn't even raised his voice to her that she could recall--though very often frustrated with her. "Why! Why a'he we enemies? What have Ah done to merit yo' wrath? What have yew done to merit mine? Ah choose my friends and my enemies...Ah don't--" His lips caught hers and silenced her. In that moment, everything she was feeling, disappeared and there was only Dillon. Her love. Her life. Her death. She desired him more this night than any night previous in the past month--even more than the night she decided he would be hers. She returned his passionate kisses with ones of her own, wanting nothing more than for the world to disappear and leave him and her alone. Her hands caressed his head, his hair, his back, his cheek, his sides...she longed for him. "Ah feel...like Juliet....bo'hn into a family that hates anoth'uh's....Ah hope that we do not end as they..." She looked frightened, still, but within Dillon's tender embrace, she felt safe and calm--like nothing could happen to her. Perhaps they could run away--far away--and no one would ever find them...and they could just live out their immortality together... This, their second night together held more passion to her than their first. Her first experience documented within the pages of her diary, this second would forever remain in her heart and in her mind--embedded in her memories for all eternity. |
|
|
| Kaeden Praetor | Jun 15 2005, 10:06 AM Post #14 |
|
Unregistered
|
Kaeden had heard that a new Sabbat member had been created and that she was keeping company with a member of the Camarilla. To that end, he took a several templars with him and headed to where they were staying. Approaching the room, he heard their rather expressive "talk" coming through the door. As he reached up to knock on the door, he turned to the templars and said, "You will say nothing of what will go on tonight outside of the punishment meted out." When they acknowledged their orders, he knocked loudly upon the door. As soon as she opened the door a crack, he nodded to the templars that had come with him and they went in, seizing both by the arms. Kaeden walked in at the end of the line, blind, but with a grace that was so much a part of him, that he didn't even notice it. "Isiladura Divicci," the stately man spoke. "I am Archbishop Kaeden Praetor. I understand that you have broken some laws..." "Laws? What laws? Ah haven't broken anythin'!" she protested, fear creeping into her voice. "Dillon...tell 'im! Tell 'im Ah've not done anything wrong." The man she called Dillon was silent. What could he say? She, indeed, had broken the laws of the Sabbat. And he had broken laws of the Camarilla. Isiladura looked at him, then the blind man then back to Dillon. Bloodied tears formed in her eyes. She looked back to the blind man before her, her voice trembling and barely above a whisper. "Ah...don't und'uhstand..." and seh burst into a flurry of sobs. "Shut up, ya little hussy!" one of the men holding onto her sneered. Kaeden raised his hand to silence the templar. "There is no need for that here. You will speak when I tell you." He looked to Isiladura and took several steps toward her. Taking her chin in his hand, he lifted her face to look at his. He could not see her, but he could tell she was frightened. "Who is your sire, Miss Divicci?" "Si'uh?" Isiladura questioned. "Ah-Ah don't know what yo' talkin' about...si'uh?" "Jefferson McClintock," Dillon finally spit out. Kaeden turned his head in Dillon's direction. He thought about the name for a moment. It didn't sound familiar to him at all. Looking back to Isiladura, Kaeden spoke softly, "Where is he?" "Ah don't know..." Isiladura wailed softly. "He threw me in the ground and left me the'uh to die..." she began to sob as she remembered the child she'd killed. Something what in Kaeden's heart, softening it a smidgen. He realized she had no concept--no knowledge--of what she was. She had been embraced in spite and by rights, should meet her Final Death. He looked back in Dillon's direction. He could sense that the young Tremere was after blood. The best thing for him was to leave. "Take that one away. Do not harm him. I have plans for him later." With a slight feral smile, he added, "So much as a hair is harmed on his head, you will be dealt with by me personally." "No!" Isiladura screamed out, but her cries were no use. The brutish men dragged the kicking Indian from the room. Those downstairs in the hotel found it great sport to watch the savage being dragged off. Once the men had dragged him to the outside of town, they released him. Dillon turned to fight them, anger in his heart and coercing through his veins, but the brutish men gave him a warning. "Leave now, Injun man. The Archbishop has asked us not to harm you, but if you know what's good for you...you won't come back here. Consider yourself lucky that Archbishop Praetor's orders are always obeyed." Dillon glared at the two men. He could take them. He was certain. But if he couldn't...then Isi would be alone--truly alone. He could not do that to her. He could not bear the thought of her mourning his Final Death as a result of her...lack of information. She would blame herself...with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away--back to the Chantry to tell the Regent the sad news. Back in the room, however, things seemed to be getting worse. "I want you to bring Jefferson McClintock to me," Kaeden said to one of the Templars. The templar bowed and turned on his heels and was out the door before anyone could say anything. Turning to the ones holding Isiladura, he spoke his one word command. "Come." Dragging her out of the room, Kaeden masked them all in shadows, obscuring them from the world around them. He led them to a clearing within the woods. The templars knew what to do. Binding her hands at the wrist, they stripped her of the robe and tied her hands high above her head. Isiladura still had no idea why she was being punished. She'd done nothing wrong. As the first lash hit her back, she remembered the night her Father had whipped her--just for being friends with Mavis and Ashanti. Was that why she was not allowed to see Dillon? Because he was Indian? As the lashing continued, she felt herself growing weaker and weaker--like when she first woke up in the earthly grave. Her back was shredded. Her blood pooled on her flesh and ran to the ground. Cutting her loose from the tree, Kaeden sent the others away--except the one holding Jefferson. "Mr. McClintock," Kaeden seethed in a voice all the deadlier for being so calm. "You have done wrongly by the Sabbat. You have allowed your own clouded judgment to intervene where it should not. For that, you will be punished greatly," Kaeden said with a smile and a cocked eyebrow. Jefferson looked at Kaeden in surprise. His green eyes flickered with an emotion of defiance, even as he drew in a deep breath, but he did not have long. For, as soon as the ties were loosed from Isiladura's flesh, she turned, dark eyes now black and red with blood lust and fangs elongated. Seething out in a voice not wholly her own, she said, "Yew did this to me...yew basta'hd!" Within moments, she was upon him and bit into his neck. He tried to push her off him, but she over-powered him in her frenzy and rage. She began to drink his blood, gaining his knowledge, his power, his abilities. Kaeden stopped the templar from pulling her off Jefferson. Then turning to the templar, dismissed him. The templar, a bit confused, stayed on a moment, then turned and ran off once Kaeden looked his way a second time. Isiladura sat shaking on the ground next to the drained body Jefferson McClintock. She lowered her head and began to cry again as the wounds on her back magically healed. Kaeden followed the soft whimpers and slowly eased into a sitting position beside her. She wrapped her arms around her body to hide herself from him. Then remembered he was blind. "Do not be afraid, Isiladura." "Why shouldn't Ah?" she demanded. Kaeden had to smile at that first hint of defiance. "I will help you. Please, tell me what happened--everything. I want to know." Isiladura began--from the beginning--about how she had fallen in love with Dillon, how he had saved her from her father and how they had planned on being together forever. Kaeden's hard, unbeating heart was touched by her story. Lifting a hand, he gently placed it on her head. She pulled back slightly, then relaxed. "I believe you, childe," he said. "What would you say if I offered you my self as your sire? I will teach you and train you in all that you need to know. And, where it is within my power, make sure you and Dillon are safe." Her eyes turned up to him. "Yew can do that? But, Ah don't und'uhstand...yew just had me practically killed..." Kaeden nodded. "I know, Isiladura. It is my duty to the Sabbat to make sure crimes against the sect are punished. I will teach you all you need to know and I will make sure you are protected. This will never happen to you again as long as I can help it." Isiladura studied his face. "How do Ah know yo' tellin' me the truth?" "Because Mr. Cloudhawk still lives. I will send word to him of where he can meet you tomorrow night. I will deliver you myself and return you with me. I will be your guardian and teacher, Isiladura. You will want for nothing." What choice had she? If Dillon could not be her everything, someone had to be. She nodded and Kaeden wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. "Now, let's get you dressed...we have much to talk about, you and I..." This moment would be forever inscribed in Isiladura's mind. |
|
|
| Dillon Cloudhawk | Jun 15 2005, 09:43 PM Post #15 |
![]()
Tremere Primogen of Dallas
![]()
|
Terror and Rage warred within him. He was but one, and knew he couldn’t take on the Sabbat’s that had come for Isi. Not since the “Trail of tears” had he felt so helpless. He had sworn he would never feel that way again, but fate laughed at him, and once more he found himself facing the death of one he loved. Dillon hid in deep within the shadows of an alley behind a merchant’s store. He couldn’t go back to the Chantry, not yet. The Regent there would no more appreciate his being caught with a LaSombra in a compromising position than the Archbishop had. He knew the fate that awaited Isiladura. Death. It echoed through him until he thought he would go mad. With a silent cry, Dillon fell to his knees. It was worse that watching his parents die, for at least then there was closure, he KNEW when it happened and how. He never appreciated that until this moment. He would never know how she was murdered, or when, he would only have his imagination on what happened. He had a vivid imagination, which had already implanted images which would haunt him for the rest of his unlife. Unable to bear the guilt he felt, the agony of knowing that because of him, a beautiful vibrant woman was dead, he doubled over, with an eerie animalist cry. “Isiladura!” It was a scream from the lips of one in deep torment, and filled the night air with stilling the heart of any that head it. Dillon stumbled to his feet and forced himself to move. They were but stumbling uncoordinated steps at first, but within moments they were running steps at preternatural speed. He knew he couldn’t escape the living hell he was in, but it didn’t matter, all that mattered was running as far from the town as he could get. |
![]() |
|
| Isiladura | Jun 15 2005, 10:33 PM Post #16 |
|
Unregistered
|
Isiladura wrapped herslef in the robe she had uncerimoniously thrown about herself when Kaeden and the brute squad appeared at her door. Shivering out of fear, primarily, she sat at Kaeden's feet and listened to his words. Everything was so overwhelming. It was as if someone had released flood gates upon her. Her mind was reeling. She'd just spent a month hiding her relationship with Dillon from the world and now--now they were being forced apart by an even greater schism--and for what purpose? "Kaeden," she interupted. "Just tell me why Ah can't be with Dillon. Ah don't ca'uhe who did what du'hin' the Inquisition. Ah just want to know why Ah can't be with Dillon when we a'he both vampires[/i]." The answer was something she would never understand. As if a voice cried out in the darkness of her soulless body, she felt a surge of pain rip through her heart like a bullet. "Dillon," she whispered. Standing to her feet, she called out again, "Dillon!" Bloodied tears started forming in her eyes. Had Kaeden felt it? Had he heard it? It was the sound of a man so overcome with grief that he would rather meet God and be damned then live another moment without his love. Isiladura knew that feeling. She wished she'd never clawed her way out of that grave just hours before. Collapsing back onto the ground, she began to allow the tears to flow, repeating her mantra, "Ah don't und'uhstand...an' nev'uh will," over and over again. She just wanted to be with Dillon--now more than ever. She needed him--needed his love more than anything. Just to know that she was not the horrible monster she believed herself to be... She could never shake the eyes of the child staring at her...those piercing blue eyes would haunt her and her dreams. Her tears began to flow more quickly and she heaved heavy sobs of sadness as she sat at Kaeden's feet... |
|
|
| Kaeden Praetor | Jun 17 2005, 01:28 PM Post #17 |
|
Unregistered
|
Ëàèíà,* Kaeden thought to himself, thinking that McClintock's punishment should have taken longer. "It's been so long, child," he said to Isiladura patiently, "that I don't think it hardly matters what started the bad blood between the two sects." Sighing, wishing he was better at this than he really was, he continued, "However, a lot of time has passed and enough crimes have been done by one sect against the other, both then and throughout the intervening years, that even the thought of consorting with the other sect-or the enemy as it is seen-is punishable by instant final death to both parties." He didn't often regret what he had become. He had, over the years, even reveled in his state and in what the Sabbat represented and did - even his ruthlessness had served him well. But the slip of a girl sitting by him made him think back on two other faces and their young voices and it made him momentarily ashamed of what he had become. The moment passed instantaneously when he heard the gut-wrenching cry that spoke more to his bones than his hearing. Êàê áîãè ñòàâàï ðîêëíàò,** he thought, rising from his resting place. Taking a few steps away, hoping that the girl wouldn't be listening to what he was saying, he called two of the remaining templars to him. "Find Cloudhawk," he said tersely. "Stay near him, but don't interfere then one of you come back for me and not a word to anyone." When they hesitated, he said in a deadly whisper that brooked no argument, "Do it and do it now." As they went off, he went back to Isiladura and sat down near her and drewe her into his arms, rocking her gently. "I know you don't understand," he said softly. "Maybe someday you will, maybe you won't, but this is something that has gone on for more years than even I have been alive." When her sobs abated a little, he said, "I sent two of my people to look for your Mr. Cloudhawk." At her stiffening, he said, "They won't harm him, they know better than to interfere with me." Drawing her face so that he could see her for a second, he said, "One of them will come back here for me. When he does, we'll go see him." Pausing, he continued in a voice that didn't invite argument, "When we do, you will not go near enough to him for him to cause any damage - if that cry was any indication, he might not be in a totally right frame of mind....." "But," she started. "No buts," he said. "If he is crazed at the moment, he might attack. If that happens, you will let me take the brunt of it - you do not know enough about what is what in your new......life.....to be able to stop him." Letting go of a deep breath, he said, "Let's hope that just beind near him, and talking to him, will get through to him." -------------- *Bulgarian, pronounced LAH-ee-na, means shit **Bulgarian, pronounced kAHk bogee stava proklnat, means the gods be damned |
|
|
| Dillon Cloudhawk | Jun 20 2005, 10:46 AM Post #18 |
![]()
Tremere Primogen of Dallas
![]()
|
The still body of his father filled his mind eye. His body warmth gone, expended during the night as he had tried to keep his wife and son safe, warm and alive. His mother rocked back and froth, sightless eyes stared across the snow-covered landscape. She shed no tears, made no sound, just held her husbands hand and rocked. Peace though exhaustion wasn’t something he would find. His running steps slowed to a walk, as he kept to the dark pathways of the city. He could no more change what had occurred to Isidurla than he could his father and later his mother. The pain was no less intense, no less real, and in a small way that surprised him. Dillon knew he would need to return to the Chantry, to inform the Regent what had occurred. There was a part of him that want to wait for the sunrise, and face the final death, a penance for bringing such a death to a beautiful woman’s life. He wouldn’t, it wasn’t in his nature to wallow in self-pity, or take the path or least resistance. His punishment would be greater than the pain of light, it would be an eternity of memories, that were guaranteed to haunt him and remind him the cost of acting without thought. The Tremere didn’t know how long he had been followed, so lost in his own thoughts and pain. When he did realize eyes were monitoring him he whirled and searched the dark shadows, a involuntary hiss of lingering rage escaping from him lips. He knew whoever it was, was one of THEM, the Sabbat, hated enemy, even more so after this night. Dillon didn’t fear for his safety or worry about how many in number were among them, he would welcome the release of a fight, find some small solace in any retribution he could met out. Emotions high, he slowly made his way back from where he had come, surprised when the ‘other’ melted away, avoiding confrontation with him. Dillon paused and grew unnaturally still as he listened for any sound that would give away the position of his enemy. Tonight he would hunt, and in the hunt kill, and in death, perhaps find the peace that was eluding him. |
![]() |
|
| Kaeden Praetor | Jul 13 2005, 01:31 PM Post #19 |
|
Unregistered
|
The templar rushed back to where the Archbishop was waiting for him, saying, "Excellency, we have found the one you wanted found." Kaeden almost smiled at the distaste the templar couldn't quite hide. "Good," he said. To Isiladura, he said, "Come, let us go." Lest either thought to argue with him, he said, "My will be done in this case. If either of you choose to arg ue with me, you will be punished." When he received acknowledgements from both, he said, "Good. "Then let us go see Dr. Cloudhawk." Taking the back roads, then back streets, the trio made their way to the spot where the templar had last seen Dillon. When the templar indicated that they were within a block or so of where he had last seen Dillon, Kaeden stopped them. "Remember what I told you, Little One," he said. "He is liable to be more dangerous at this point in time than at any other. I, for one, do not wish to see harm come to either one of you." Drawing in a breath, he said, "However, if it comes down to it being either him or you, my priorities are with you." Hoping he had made his point, he led the way down the last block. When they reached the alleyway, he stopped them and waited, betting all of their unlives on a chance. |
|
|
| Isiladura | Jul 18 2005, 03:20 PM Post #20 |
|
Unregistered
|
Fear coerced through her body. Blood-chilling fear. She nodded to Kaeden and gripped his arm tightly to her. Through the shadows they stalked. Isiladura looked about at the night sky, nervous and fearful. Fearful for her life, her love, and her sanity. As they approached where the templar had indicated, Kaeden began to speak to her again. He was warning her of the dangers of Dillon's state of mind. Her dark eyes looked up at Kaeden with all the innocence of a child comingled with fear of the unknown. "Ah--Ah und'uhstand, Mist'uh Kaeden..." She looked around and tried to see where Dillon stood. Releasing Kaeden's arm, she began to walk blindly forward, her white robe shimmering in the moonlight. "...Dillon...?" she whispered softly as she stepped forward. "Dillon...it's...it's me, Isiladura...Ah--Ah'm fine, Dillon..." she choked back her tears and looked up at the sky. "Please..." she whispered. "Please come hold me..." She closed her eyes tightly and bowed her head, sinking to her knees. Lifting her hands, she burried her face behind them and began to cry. When she moved her hands, she went into a panic. She was crying blood. "Oh, my Gawd!!" With large eyes, she looked over her shoulder to Kaeden, wide-eyed and frightened. She turned back to look for Dillon, wanting nothing more than to run away with him and put all that had happened behind them. "...please, Dillon....my love...my life..." she whispered softly, rocking gently back and forth. She felt as if she were calling into a void that would always restrict her voice from reaching the ears of any that she desired to hear. "...Dillon, Ah need yew..." Hoping beyond hope that Dillon would come to her--would take her in his arms--would calm enough to hear what had happened and who had helped her--she waited. In the middle of the shadows under a blanket of moonlight, she waited...and wished...and hoped... |
|
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Shades of Future Past · Next Topic » |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| Track Topic · E-mail Topic |
5:41 PM Jul 10
|






5:41 PM Jul 10