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[20 Dec 2004|06:42pm] |
I’ve always been proud of my Maverick eyes. They were grey and consuming, like glacier ice. My vision was always a little on the weak side at a distance, and especially in the dark. But they suited my purpose. Won me a man, in any case.
Last night I lost one of them. I don’t understand exactly what happened… one minute I was riding Elh through the forest, headed for home, the next I was flat on my back in the snow, receiving the beating of my life from Gretchen. My mind was swimming with screams and hallucinations. But I know that she dug out my right eye… I remember the pain. Nothing else could feel like that! Being cut or hit is one thing… but to feel three talons scoop into your socket and pull out the mutilated remains of your right ocular is another entirely. Everything went black.
And when I awakened, somehow not dead… my eye was there. My eye? An eye. It feels odd, like it’s there and not at the same time. The eyelids on the right side feel heavier, somehow, like I have to fight to keep it open. Kind of numb. Maybe that’s just my imagination.
Dad found me on the way home, and closed my wounds. He was so exhausted by the end of it that I had to toss him over Elh’s withers and take him home like a potato sack… with myself riding shocked in the saddle. When we arrived, Gian came out of the house and helped me get Dad in, and gave me a thorough checkup. Finally, he convinced me to uncover my eye… the eye. He didn’t recoil in horror, he just… looked confused. Maybe a little shocked, himself. “It’s different,” he said. “The colour is different. Go look.”
It’s so… pale. Mismatched. The shape is the same as my left eye, but the colour… it’s so weak. It’s almost a sickly imitation of it’s former self. The whole thing isn’t milky or filmy like a cataract, because my pupil is still pitch black. The iris looks… white-washed. It’s not grey. It’s… snowy, almost.
I hate it. The ugly thing stares back at me in the mirror like an abomination set into my head. That’s what it is. I don’t know what happened… if she merely wounded it and Dad’s healing is what caused this change, or if this is something more. My whole face feels different. Looks different. It’s so ugly. So pale and sickly. And the vision is worse than before… weaker.
I… I want to pull it out of my head.
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| Subject? |
[09 Dec 2004|02:23am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 Freezing cold. |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Loud, drunk people in the pub. |
] |
This Christmas thing is getting rather close, isn't it? I'm not 100% sure what day it's supposed to take place on. This is too much work... getting a stupid tree in the house, fighting with tangled strings of lights (NB; for a priest, Gian knows some very interesting curses involving various bits of human anatomy, and resulting in my hands over Aria's ears), making sure the whole thing doesn't fall over and crush our child, and wrapping presents.
Ah, yes. Gian showed me the "art" of wrapping gifts. Essentially, you go out and buy a big roll of shiny, colourful paper. Then you use the paper to cover the box in which you've placed the gift. All this is done in secret, of course. Don't want to ruin the surprise. It's all very frustrating because I don't know how to wrap a horse, and I can't ask Gian because then he'd know what I got him. And here's the kicker; the person then tears off the pretty, shiny, expensive paper, and throws it away. It's pre-packaged garbage.
And so I've come to this conclusion: Christmas is retarded. We're celebrating Solstice next year. No more scary fat men will be coming into my house to eat my damned cookies. Seriously, Gian must have been in the can when they were passing out religious holidays.
Aside from holiday stuff, I've been busy working on a few things for Lazarus. I have to find Dante and ask him about meeting with someone by the name of Bree Monet to talk about possible vampire involvement with the sudden influx of slave-sales around here. Something about a group called Shade. The picture Laz gave me isn't of any kind of vampire I've ever seen... granted, it's blurry... but why would a vampire wear a mask? If it's even a mask.
So here's my plan: I'm going to talk to Haunt. Stupid? Yes. Stupid, while also being fiendishly clever? Of course. Something about this smells of more than just vampires. Ophelia says that Haunt knows the other planes like the back of his hand/claw-type thing. Why not have him do a little sniffing where I can't? Let's face it... my astral eyes are good, but any secret organization worth it's stripes wouldn't leave enough of a trail for my novice eyes to follow.
I need a fedora, a magnifying glass, and a mini-skirt. Sexiest shifter-detective ever.
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[04 Dec 2004|11:56pm] |
Give me a day or two to recuperate from an encounter with Dae, and then throw me to the sirens. But of course. Give the shifter an exciting life. No peace and quiet for her. A night alone with the family? No! Leave a headless coyote pup on her porch for Aria to find. Yes, yes… this is the life for Mrs. Samantha Campbell.
Yesterday morning was when Aria’s screams brought Gian and I to the door with our hands on our blades. But it wasn’t Silke waiting or us, or a pack of sirens thirsty for vengeance. It was a tiny, furry body, resting on the top step. A coyote pup, its head torn from it’s two month old body by the reeking talons of a siren. Somewhere, a mother like myself would come home to an empty den that stank of eels and blood. She’d search and search, and never find her pup… it was easily enough to make my blood boil. Off to Ophelia’s I went, carrying the tiny, pathetic thing wrapped in linen.
When I got there, everything was a mess. Her frost-wyrm have been attacked and wounded, though not seriously enough to kill it. I buried the pup, and we went back inside. When our senses began to go a little haywire, we checked the upstairs for any sign of trouble… and found it in the form of two eel-bitches. They both wore tears around their necks… more tears. There are more of them.
They attacked. I didn’t get in much of a fight before the bigger of the two slammed me to the floor with her tail. That was what cracked five of my ribs. I think I wounded the other. Then everything goes white.
The next thing I remember is Gian standing over me. He looked so afraid. I guess there was some bleeding in my lungs from the blow that siren bitch gave me… in fact, I remember tasting blood on every breath. Gian healed the bleeding with magic, but my ribs will take more energy out of me than he thought was safe right then. Herbs and more mundane tactics will suffice till I’m a little stronger, he says. Maybe he’ll be able to heal me up tonight before bed… I really don’t want to spend another night flat on my back with pain shooting through me every time I take a breath.
Now that I’ve got some time to lay and think, I’ve started to wonder about those bloody tears again. Where did they get them? I thought there were only nine… but there are more? How in the hell can we kill these monsters if there are other tears out in the world that are unaccounted for?
It’s really starting to look as if things aren’t going to work out in the end. Fighting to find nine of the tears was hard enough… what if there are hundreds more at the talon-tips of all those sirens? I’m afraid to say that I may not be alive much longer.
What can a woman do? Worried that I’ll never see my daughter grow up and become something to make me proud… certain that I’ll never see the first gentle stroke of silver in my lover’s hair. What can I do, aside from prepare myself for what comes next? I don’t dare tell Gian, because he’ll guard me even closer than before. I’d die if he were hurt or killed in this stupid battle only to protect me. Then everything would be for nothing, and Aria would grow up without a mother or a father. I wouldn’t give her that. Ever.
I want to protect my family. Maybe this is the best way.
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[01 Dec 2004|11:30am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 contemplative |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Morning sounds. |
] |
Parenthood's a tricky thing. One minute you're convinced you're the world's greatest model-mommy... the next you're trying to figure out why you've done something so ridiculously idiotic in the presence of your only child. I'm not sure I understand a lot about parenting. I'm not sure if I'm ready to take care of another living thing. Gian seems... so much more suited to it than me. Maybe because he's older? Maybe because of being a leader at his Church? I'll never know.
Last night was supposed to be happy and relaxing; a nighttime ride with the family with two of Lateal's horses. Everything was perfect at first. The woods were beautiful. But then I scented him on the wind, and new that we had to run.
So we did. We ran till we reached a small clearing a few minutes away. Aria was terrified. I was terrified. The Huntress pulled herself forward and prepared for a fight that I knew was going to come. I remember Gian passing me Aria to watch... her sitting on the saddle in front of me, fingers curled into Mum's clothes. Then I remember losing it... the beast pulling so far forward that even my maternal instincts were cloaked... and riding toward danger with my knife drawn.
If Gian hadn't ridden in front of me and blocked my path, I would have ridden toward Dae with Aria sitting in front like a screaming target. His yell woke me up enough to realize my mistake... thank the Gods. What had I done? Aria was staring up at me with wide eyes, wondering the same. Maybe she doesn't understand now, but she will later. I'll bet that she won't be happy.
Am I ready to be a mother? I guess many women ask themselves the same, somewhere along the way. But granted, the circumstances under which they question themselves probably don't involve demons or sirens, or even shifters. Gian wants a bigger family, and dear Gods, I've tried every technique I know to aid pregnancy. The problem is on my end, not his. But am I ready? Should I bother trying, if I'm already proving myself unfit to raise our first daughter?
Last night I sat up and watched them sleep. Aria insisted she sleep in our bed, just in case the bad thing came back for us. Needless to say, neither Gian or I argued. The two of them look so much alike when they're asleep. Black hair on the pillow.
Would they get along all right...?
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| Dusty Pages to Fill. |
[21 Nov 2004|10:39pm] |
Hey, wow. Lost my journal again. And lookit, here it is. I must say, I’m lucky that this thing hasn’t fallen into the wrong hands or anything yet. Very lucky. There’s a lot of incriminating shit in here, I suppose. Anyway, on to business.
A lot of shit has happened. A lot. I’m not going to write it all down, because I know that I’ll remember it all. I joined an anti-slavery mercenary group called the BloodHawks. Mavei introduced me to the group, naturally. And… naturally… I want to get rid of those sleazy, disgusting slave sales all over the place. I’ve seen the inner-workings of a slave caravan. I know what it’s like in there. Thankfully, I wasn’t there long myself, but those who were… might as well have been killed along with the slavers who “tended” to them. So, the sales must be stopped. Et cetera.
A man named John needed my help, and so I gave him my blood. Now, John is far from a stranger. Dr. John Sanford is a trusted friend and fellow BloodHawk. To cure the cancer that riddled his body, he fused his genes with shifter DNA. And so, I had to bargain with Coyote in order for the exchange to work. In payment, Coyote took a tiny piece of my soul and put it inside John. Gian was… not happy. But, who would be?
The sirens have been quiet, and so has Silke. I guess that means we should count our blessings. The first snow came and stayed. Aria has been playing outside nearly everyday. Funny, how a little girl who by all accounts looks four-years-old is only now getting to play in her first snow. Gian’s been a smartass and taught her about snowballs, and how funny it is to hit Mommy with them. He thought it was real fun till I pinned him down and put a handful of slush down the front of his pants. Haha. Now that was funny.
I ramble.
So here we are, trying to get ready for the holidays. Aria is very excited about Santa (though the idea of a jolly fat man sneaking into my house at night doesn’t seem too kosher with me) and presents. I have no bloody idea how the hell we’re going to do the holidays. I mean, you can’t find two religions that are any more different. Really, Solstice isn’t a huge deal. I might as well give into this Christmas thing. Having a decorated tree in the house sounds retarded to me, but it might be fun. I don’t know. I’ll give it a shot. It means I have to get gifts for everyone, and I enjoy giving gifts.
The only problem is, Gian is probably the hardest person in the world to buy gifts for. He just… doesn’t need anything. And if he does, he doesn’t say anything about it. I could get him books and he would be happy. I could buy him clothes, and he would be happy. But those presents are boring. I want to give him something that will make him really, really happy. A present that possibly involves sex. But not necessarily. I mean, I’m flexible. Double entendre.
That’s about it for now. Time to find Gian’s journal and threaten to read it aloud to the pub if he doesn’t start writing again.
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[08 Oct 2004|08:56pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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Bleak |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Silence. |
] |
The sirens are back.
Last night I was nearly flayed alive by three of them in a small tower while rescuing Ophelia… luckily, instinct reined over fear and I beheaded the lot. They wanted me alive… why, I’ll never know. But it’s one more thing to deal with, one more thing to watch out for… one more nightmare made real.
I don’t know how long I can keep running.
Gian holds me, he tells me that there is a way to survive, that I’ll live on, I’ll triumph over Dae and whatever else is thrown directly at me. That we’ll make it. Together. Our family.
But… even coyotes can only run for so long.
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[04 Oct 2004|11:52pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 okay |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Gian's breathing. |
] |
The world works in very funny ways, really. I’m out of the hospital, fortunately, and home safe with Gian and our little girl. Aria is very happy to have her bedtime stories back… though Gian tells them so much better than I do, he wasn’t in the mood to read when I was in the hospital. I understand entirely. I’m not energetic at all when Gian’s away, and even less so when I know he’s hurt or unhappy.
But now I’m home, able to sleep in my own bed and everything. The stitches come out very soon. But last night Gian and I talked about this whole thing. He’s been really worried about me… more than I originally thought. I guess the thing with the katana was the last straw, and he’d been meaning to talk to me for a long time. Also, he knew that I’d been sneaking out at night when he’d been in bed. While normally, me nipping out to the pub to have a snack in the middle of the night would bother Gian in the least. However, with Silke on the prowl these days… I understand his apprehension. Sticking in the house all day, everyday is enough to make me go insane, and Gian understands that. He doesn’t want me to be cooped up… he just doesn’t want me taking unnecessary risks. And so, a deal was struck. I get three chances. If I risk myself like an idiot three times… he’ll shave off his goatee.
A definite loss. Gian’s convinced that once (if!) he shaves, he’ll look younger. He doesn’t look old in the first place. Honestly, I think that if he shaves off his goat, he should chop off a goodly length of the hair, too. Gods know he’ll look different without the scruff… he’ll look like a completely different man without the locks. Cut it into a stylish short thing. Mmm. Then again, I’m about as attached to the hair as I am to the goatee.
… Long hair doesn’t give you little tickles when you kiss the person, though. I like those little tickles.
Today, however, I was feeling much better. I went out this afternoon with no thoughts of causing trouble… just taking enough time to myself to enjoy a cup of hot chocolate and a smoke. And… bounty hunter. That can’t possibly count as taking a risk. He found me, not the other way around. Our chase brought us to the clearing, where a bullet grazed my left arm quite nicely. Wounded in my dominate hand and facing the barrel of a very large firearm, I did what any smart outlaw would do. I gave up. You think I was going to try to run away from that? I’m fast, but I’m not faster than a bullet. So I went with him to the bounty hunters’ little HQ thing, where Dalashi showed up and threw doors around (literally… don’t ask), and I eventually convinced the hunter of my innocence. Huzzah, I was free.
After getting myself stitched up by a friend (I’m beginning to look like a bloody rag-doll, I’ve got so many stitches), here I am back home, snuggling with Gian after putting Aria to bed. I’ll have to find his journal again… he’s gone and misplaced it yet again. Can’t say I’m surprised. I’ll bet he hid it under the bed with my dirty magazines and such. I’ll have to take a peek. Silly man.
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| Hospitals Suck. |
[30 Sep 2004|03:55pm] |
Well, it happened… I wound up in the hospital. That’s no huge surprise, considering the life I live, but it’s upsetting, nonetheless. Dae nabbed me again. Third feeding in three days, now. This time he injected that venom. The properties seem to have changed somewhat, as it’s a temporary paralytic. An extremely potent paralytic. I almost stopped breathing. I don’t remember much… but Melaina stabbed Silke in the back, and he ran off… she watched over me till Heat showed up, and stabbed me in the chest with some drug to keep me alive. I woke up in the hospital, and here I am.
Last night was unpleasant. I didn’t understand why there were things stuck to my body, and tried to tear them off. Once Heat explained that they were listening to my heart, I relaxed a little. That’s all right. The doctors stitched me up and put something called plasma into my body to make up for the blood I lost. I learned that human blood is readily accepted by a shifter body. That’s useful, I guess… if I ever need blood again.
The food here is horrible. Heat brought me hamburgers last night, I was happy. It took the hospital forever to get in touch with Gian… when he showed up, he must have scared the crap out of the nurses, because he was lookin’ pretty wild. I got kisses and hugs. The doctor wouldn’t let him bring Aria in for some reason… something about no children allowed in the ICU or something. Gian stayed with me all night so I wouldn’t be scared. I love him so much.
I’m allowed to go home tonight after “dinner”… if you can call it that. The nurse keeps calling me a “were”, and it’s really annoying. They also won’t let me have my clothes and satchel. I guess those are locked away in a locker somewhere. For now all I can do is watch the little green blips on the heart-monitor, and wait till I get to go home. I hate it here.
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[29 Sep 2004|05:23pm] |
So... last night I learned that Mavei and my father have something going on between them. I don't know what to think. Honestly, I know that it's none of my business. But how should I feel? My father is messing around with my best friend. I'm a little put-off by that. Wouldn't anyone be?
And everyone wonders why I'm so messed up... maybe I'm still grasping for whatever little bits of my birth family are left in this world. It almost feels like a personal attack... "Hey Sam, I'm sleeping with your Dad. Want a whiskey?" Ahh... I know it's not... but that's how I feel.
I need sleep. And I certainly didn't need to hear that.
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[28 Sep 2004|09:28pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 Comfortable |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Summer -- Antonio Vivaldi |
] |
Last night I did the stupidest thing a shifter ever did. Well, maybe not the stupidest, but damned close, anyway. I still came out on top. Coyote granted me tricks, and I used my tricks. I used one of many. And maybe, just many, those tricks are what I’m going to need to beat Silke. Not magick, not brawn, not an army… my wits. My mind. My cleverness. If that’s a word.
I went home to sit in the garden for a little while. Everything was quiet and peaceful, perfect for a September night. And then, without warning, there was Dae, sitting on the bench, watching me.
Immediately, I felt a part of my mind go under… the human part, the weakest part of my being. But the beast - what Gian calls the Huntress – stayed awake. And she had a plan. We – I pretended to be under his spell, enthralled by his voice and those chilling eyes. I got close. The katana was in his lap… if only I could get close enough to reach it…
He sunk his fangs into my neck, and drank – not once, but twice. And oddly enough, fate played into my hands, and he did not inject me with any venom. Lucky me, Coyote smiled on his favourite daughter last night, the night before the full moon. I let him feed. I pretended to be under his command, begging him to feed. All the while, my hand strayed closer to the sword in his lap… and I got it.
As soon as my hand tightened around the hilt, I pulled back. I had Gian’s sword back. And though my body was nearing empty, Dae had left me with plenty of blood to stay awake. We parted ways. It’s odd… Silke has had his chances to kill me. And yet, he leaves me alive. He put it into words last night, and I thought it was fitting to place in my journal, for posterity, maybe. We are, in the end, only predator and prey, if a more intelligent pairing than a wolf and a deer, or a mongoose and snake.
“I seek what I will seek, and there will be no changing this. The shifter tempts, the Devourer hunts. What I want...You cannot willingly give me- nor will your accursed friends and family give...”
He left out the part about the shifter tricking him, though. Maybe it’s time Coyote and I had a chat, God to Daughter. And we’ll see what Poppa Trickster’s got in his personal bag of tricks for Sammy to borrow.
I found my father… he patched me up and carried me home to a worried husband and a crying daughter. Gian scolded me for a few minutes for “taking a stupid risk for a piece of steel” and “risking my neck for no good reason”, and all that jazz… but I’m still glad I did it. He’s got his blade. He worked hard for it… and I won’t let a cheap-shot like Silke get his filthy claws all over it. Though my life is worth more to Gian than that blade, I’d still risk myself to get it back. And I did. And in succeeding, I think maybe I’ve raised Dae’s expectations a tad. I’m not going to be an easy meal.
So here I sit… in my favourite chair by the fire in an empty house. I took a nice, relaxing bath in the hot spring out back and am curled up in my housecoat and slippers, enjoying hot chocolate with marshmallows and some crackers I found in the kitchen. And I think I’ll spend the rest of the night right here. I’m perfectly content and comfortable.
Sometimes a little solitude is all a shifter really needs.
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[27 Sep 2004|02:19pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 Terrified |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Gian and Aria talking. |
] |
Here I am, falling behind on the news yet again. I don’t want to write all this out, because then I’ll be forced to remember it all in detail. Detail is something I wish I could shirk on, just this once. But, considering my reasons for keeping this journal in the first place – as a documented retelling of our collective story – I really should write down everything. And here I go.
Dae is back. It seems that now he means to stay, as well. The demon finally showed his face to my friends and family. He stalks my every waking moment now… my paranoia is running high and fast every time I blink. And again, I fell into his trance and walked to him willingly. I can’t break that stare! I can’t! He looks into me… and I feel my mind beginning to obey… no matter where I am, who I’m with…
And now we have other shifters to worry about. My father, my brother. My daughter. He wouldn’t take something so young, would he? He wouldn’t feed on a pup? Sadly, I can’t seem to hold him above something so horrible. He’s a monster. Why wouldn’t he try to hurt Aria?
Even now, I feel the crawling, pulling at the back of my mind… the demon calling my name, drawing me in. Is this what Gian felt? Was this how the siren song pulled at him? Gods… I feel like my mind – what’s left of it – is going to snap in two if I don’t shake this feeling. And the nightmares. The nightmares are back. Of course they are… why wouldn’t they be? Walking toward him, feeling that pain at the back of my skull when I look away, look back to my family…
Will he make me kill them? Will he pull me that far in? Make me kill the people I love and have me awaken, holding my daughter’s body? Just like the nightmares… just like the nightmares…
He took Gian’s sword. The katana. The one he made during his training… the one he forged and re-forged… folded till it was perfect. The one with Gregory’s cross in the hilt. That bastard took my husband’s sword. I’ll get it back. I’ll get it, just like I got both blades back from Ophelia all that time ago. And then I cleaned them up… and I’ll clean them again… and I feel the headache coming back…
If I go to him, will the nightmares stop? Will the pain go away? Will he give back the sword? Will he give back my sanity…?
Stop… stop stop stop…
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| Finally... |
[19 Sep 2004|07:51pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
calm |
] |
| [ |
music |
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The fire. |
] |
It’s really been a while. I’m almost as lazy as Gian when in comes to this thing. Note to self… wedgie Gian.
Aria’s fourth birthday was on the fifth of this month. She’s happy and healthy, like any normal four-year-old. She’s very excited for fall, too. The little fox has been bringing me colourful leaves to tape to her bed. She likes sleeping under all the leaves, she says. Cute. Her poncho is getting lots of use now, since the weather is gradually getting nippier. I started sketching out the plans for building her a little room. What we might do is just spruce up the back room for her. Aria wants a place of her own.
Gian turned twenty-nine on the twelfth. He’s doing all right. We’ve both been so busy getting ready for fall and winter that we haven’t had much time to really do anything fun. I’ve been out hunting for the season (the pheasants are getting slower), Gian’s been chopping wood like the sexy guy he is (arf), and Aria’s been getting in her last few chances to play outside before the weather turns bitter. I like fall, myself. It’s got a smell to it… reminds me of baked pheasant and stuffing and apple pie. Mmm. Apple pie.
So, the shifter’s been relaxing in the peace and quiet of the changing seasons, contemplating where to go from here. Everything seems so peaceful and serene. It’s almost enough for me to wish something exciting would happen, and soon. I remember five months ago, Gian and I were fighting sirens and demons and all that… now… nothing. Could we really have cleared up all of our problems? It seems impossible.
The feeling of darkness on the horizon is faded now, but it’s still there. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to it. Who knows? Maybe it’s just a bored shifter, hoping for adventure one of these days…
I just don’t want all that we’ve fought for to fade into obscurity.
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[03 Sep 2004|05:57pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 cynical |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Chatter and bickering in the pub. |
] |
Times are very slow, it seems. There is absolutely nothing going on in our lives right now... at least, nothing worth noting. Aria managed a full shift with some coaching from me. She's a beautiful little black fox... and she likes to nip at her mother's paws when we're out for walks. She had trouble walking at first... her little butt tended to waggle like she was crawling in human form. No need, as a fox. Y'just go with the flow.
Gian and I haven't spoken much over the past few days... he's been busy in the garden, I've been busy with Aria. He still seems rather happy about the whole shifter thing. I'm glad. Not many are as accepting of him. He sees something plainly weird as something beautiful... and I thank him for that.
Got stabbed the other night... nothing serious, but I bleed like a stuck pig, and I tend to enjoy keeping blood inside my body as opposed to all over everything else. Gian hasn't been around enough to close it properly... so Mel's been looking after it. We're going through one of our distant stages, I guess. I hope.
Hopefully I'll actually get to talk to him tonight. I miss him.
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[28 Aug 2004|10:36am] |
| [ |
mood |
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"D'aww!" |
] |
| [ |
music |
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Something cooking. |
] |
Last night went from normal to weird to "Sam angry with Gian" over the course of a few hours. I know I shouldn't be angry, but... enh. Female. You know. Gotta blame the man sometimes, right? I'm going to feel bad about this later.
So, we're sitting in the pub, talking about horses or whatever, when Vivi walks in. She gave us a beautiful orange blossom as a late wedding gift. It was nice to see her feeling a little better about things... it's hard being caught in the middle of a Gian versus Viviane deathmatch, it really is. Especially when you're kind of "the other woman". The one what stole her man... that she dumped. Yeah. Something like that.
Anyway, so we're talking to Vivi a bit, when something from outside called to me. Not sure what it was, but I followed it... and Gian didn't follow me, for some reason. That's a little worrisome in itself. Either way, I wound up in the west tower. Someone slammed the door shut behind me... and no one ever said coyotes could see in the dark. I got nailed by some tranquilizer darts and passed out... happy day.
When I woke up, I was alone in the dark. My head was pounding and my legs felt like rubber, but I still managed to find the door. Unfortunately, without the benefit of eyesight, I couldn't figure out the bolt. Wonderful! All this time, I'm wondering where the hell Gian is... but he never came. Mavei, on the other hand, did. She kicked the door down and helped me out of the tower. We went to the main hall to relax.
Eventually, I went home. Gian was worried sick about me, of course. Apparently I hadn't left much of a trail for him to follow, and having Vivi following him around wasn't helping much. We did the hug thing, then went to bed. I'm alive, a little groggy (still), and pissed that there's a slice in my favourite jeans where I received an injection of some kind during my black-out.
Right now I'm lying in bed, curled up in warm, clean sheets. Gian's frying up something for breakfast. He won't tell me what it is... but I smell sweet strawberries in it. Might be pancakes. He insisted on breakfast in bed after last night. Every few minutes he comes over to check on me, sitting down on the edge of the bed with a soft smile. Gods, I love him. I received a battery of check-ups from the healer last night when I walked in, just to make sure nothing was left in my system. He checked around the injection site for any signs of infection or even a tracking device. Nothing. I guess I'm okay, so long as Gian doesn't accidentally smother me with worry.
And I was right! It is pancakes. Gian's a damned liar... says he can't cook. He just doesn't want to! So now he's curled behind me, his chin on my shoulder. If you're reading this, Gian... I'm talking bad about you. Bad husband! Bad! Go get my slippers! No soup for you!
Yeah. I guess it's time for me to own up to overdue infatuated cuddles or something. Not that I'm complaining.
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| Shifter |
[27 Aug 2004|10:17am] |
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mood |
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chipper |
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music |
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Gian working. |
] |
Even though Aria smelled like a shifter from the moment she came to us, I never suspected that Gian’s hopes would come true. I say Gian’s, because I can’t say I’m thrilled that Aria carries my blood so strongly. But, then again, the Gods decide what you are, and I’m not about to argue with them. They’re Gods for a reason, after all.
Gian was in the pub with her, I guess, when her tail showed up. Shifters are odd… we have two forms, and then something in between called a half shift. The only changes are in the teeth, and of course, the tail. A human doesn’t have a tail… a shifter in half-shift does. And she had a tail. A black, vulpine tail.
So, the husband comes running home with Aria in his arms, smiling fit to make his face crack. I smelled the fox on her immediately. Ace’s influence? I guess. But the colour is definitely all Campbell. I’ve started teaching Aria about shifters and what she is. The kid can’t manage a full-shift yet… but that’s really only a matter of time. She’ll figure it out eventually. We all do.
The feeling of darkness on the horizon has faded for the moment, it seems. I haven’t been having nightmares or visions since a few nights ago. Then again, the herbs that Gian’s been giving me to help me relax may be dulling my senses. I guess I won’t know until something happens… if it does. If it doesn’t, I guess whoever finds and reads this will think I’m a fool. And hey… they may not be half wrong.
Also, since both of their birthdays are coming up (much to my poor husband’s chagrin… he’s convinced that Death is sneaking up on him, I swear… twenty-nine is not old!), I’ve been doing some shopping. The pocket-watch I bought Gian is beautiful, engraved and with a picture of his girls inside. I gave it to him early because I couldn’t stand waiting. So far Aria has a wool poncho and a plush fox waiting for her on the fifth of next month. I think Gian’s going to get her something else, too. She’s excited to be turning four. Funny, how we’ve had her with us since May and she’s turning four… as if time is sped up. It’s weird… but at least I never had to change a single diaper. Can’t complain. Thanks to Coyote for watching her after the miscarriage… and for sending back a beautiful little girl to us.
And that’s about it for now. It’s chilly and damp this morning, but hopefully that will burn off before lunch. Aria’s still sleeping, miraculously. Gian’s outside on the porch putting the final touches on her new bed with some sanding. I’m inside cleaning up… well, taking a break from cleaning up, obviously. I made the bed, at least. I hate dusting, though.
Speaking of my husband, there is now. I’d better look busy before I’m pounced.
Or maybe I won’t look busy. Hmm…
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| Perfection. |
[21 Aug 2004|11:13am] |
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mood |
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"Perfect." |
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music |
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A heartbeat. |
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Last night was amazing. Absolutely amazing.
I’m not going to write down exactly what happened, sparing anyone who happens who finds this thing of any incriminating details, and also, because I’m sure that I’ll remember every insignificant sound and scent and drop of color until my dying day. Putting it into words would dull it. And I never, ever want to dull it.
We rested in the garden after, one just looking into the other’s eyes, caught and unable to let go. Rapture. There was nothing dark or worrying between us at that moment, our promise almost tangible in the air. We would stay together till the last star fell, and after that, never holding back or hiding our fears. Speaking from the bottom of our entwined hearts. Soul mates.
We picked up our things and went inside, warming up with a shared blanket and hot tea. The silence was golden. No words were needed. We stayed quiet as we went to bed, my hand never slipping free of his. And we slept, dreamless, save for one another.
I’ve never felt closer to him. Right now, I’m just content to sit still… and let the perfection last as long as it can. The silence, save for the beat of a familiar heart against my ear as I write. The scent of my love.
So sappy. But I don’t give a damn.
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| Almost Leaving. |
[20 Aug 2004|10:16am] |
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mood |
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relaxed |
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music |
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Silence, for the moment. |
] |
So here I am, lazing in bed on a foggy, damp morning after a foggy, damp night. The weather didn’t change my mood. Seeing Gian upset last night didn’t help… knowing that I was the one who’d made him upset… that was the deepest hurt.
I’m not sure how it works… but I learned yesterday not to fall asleep wearing the Ioun Stone Ophelia gave me. I felt fine in the morning and the early afternoon. But when I fell asleep in the clearing before dinner, I had the most vivid, depressed dream I’ve had since Dae left my mind alone. The images I saw were vague and mostly symbolic, but they read like a book to me.
In the dream, the bad thing came and hurt Gian. Now, the dream seemed to have an almost mirror image… what would happen, and what could happen, if I managed to get away from the Keep. I tried to lead the thing off and away from here in the dream… it followed me, and gave my family a wide-berth. They were safe. I wasn’t with them… I missed them terribly… but I knew that I could go back. Gian would wait for me.
I woke up and was convinced that I had to leave. If I didn’t, Gian would die. So, as I sat in the clearing, thinking about the choice that I’d just made - that I felt I’d been forced to make – until Safira came. I feel bad for being cool toward her, unemotional… because I know that a pregnancy is a wonderful, sometimes scary thing. I’m happy for her and Jake, but I also worry. At the same time, I think that I was scared to get attached to the idea, since I knew that I would soon be leaving.
And I did. I walked west, toward the feeling and the thundercloud that felt numb on the horizon. I’ve been feeling it so long now that I’m starting to wonder whether I would notice if it went away. The cliffs over the desert near the hill with the petrified tree were where I wound up. That was when Gian found me. There was no point in lying to him. I told him that I was leaving… that I didn’t want anything to hurt him. At the time, it felt so plausible. The dream was so vivid and real. How could it not be the truth?
I’ve only seen Gian cry a few times in the time that I’ve known him… despite the fact that we’ve been though some very hard times during the course of our relationship. Those blue eyes filled with tears… I knew, last night, that I’d really hurt him, really scared him. How could I leave him? There’s never been another human being who cared for me as much as him. The idea that I was so prepared to walk away from that… to leave it behind in hopes of protecting it… I have no idea where my mind was. I promised him I wouldn’t leave… ever. Never, ever. I could never leave him and Aria. We went home then, both of us sniffly and rather puffy-eyed.
Aria was already in bed, sleeping soundly. Looking at her made me feel like a coward. How could I run from that? Leave my little girl without a Mom for Gods know how long? Gian lead me to bed, and we got some much needed talking and sleep done. I told him everything I knew about the pendant Ophelia had given me the other night. He seemed unsure as to whether or not I should keep it… and judging by the way it affected my dreams, I’m a little unsure, myself. Needless to say, I’m not wearing it now, and probably won’t put it back on in quite a while. It’s an interesting trinket but I don’t know much about it, yet. I’m betting it’s part of the reason I was so easily duped by my dream yesterday afternoon. The dream was so power and real. It felt so right. If it can make a bad dream feel so real… I wonder what it would do for a good dream?
My theory is that the Stone helps the shaman fall into a deep trance, to clarify visions and bring the other side closer… make it brighter. Maybe that’s why I felt such a strong pull in my dream. I hate to imagine what my last meditation with Gian would have been like had I been wearing that thing. I might not have made it out sane.
But. Morning is here, and all of that’s in the past now. Aria is awake and crawling on the bed, asking Gian to help her feed her fish… she’s still scared that she’ll give the little guy too much food. Gian himself is barely awake. I don’t think he got much sleep last night after we got home. Needless to say, thanks to the clouds outside and the fog hanging in the yard, it doesn’t look like any of us will be doing much of anything today. Plenty of time to rest up and recuperate.
I’m looking forward to some time with my husband tonight. We rarely get to enjoy one-another’s company very much anymore. Jake’s taking Aria out, and we get the house all to ourselves. Knowing us, we’ll probably fall asleep soon after Aria is gone and wake up when Jake knocks on the door after midnight with a sleeping niece in his arms. C’est la vie.
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| Dreams, Missing Daughters, and Ioun Stones. |
[19 Aug 2004|09:31am] |
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mood |
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calm |
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music |
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Gian in bed beside me, talking in his sleep. "Pancakes..." |
] |
A lot’s happened in the past couple of days. I supposed I’ll start from the beginning, since that’s the logical place to start. Then again, I can’t remember the last time I actually used - or adhered to – logic.
Gian and I meditated on the premonitions I’ve been having. This happened a few days back… I’ve only gotten the chance to write about it just now. During the Dreaming, he appeared in the body of himself ten years ago. It was odd, looking at him at a nineteen-year-old and not a twenty-nine-year-old. I was in the desert, and he was in his Church. The place where I “appeared” on the other side was odd enough… a small canyon I sheltered in during the sandstorms one year. All the glyphs and designs I’d painted on the red walls of the canyon were still there, as bright and fresh as the day I’d smudged the ochre and charcoal. Eventually Gian found me (by opening the door to the confessional, oddly enough, and winding up in my canyon with me, only ten years younger), and that’s when things got weird.
My name in the Desert Tongue is Stormbringer, or, directly translated, “The Bringer of the Storms”. The Shamans dubbed me this on the night they found me, newly shifted, alone, scared, and wounded in the desert. When they’d brought me into their camp, the skies opened for the first time in ten years, sending healing rain down onto the thirsty desert. Rain is normally a good omen in the desert. However, when the skies turned black and thunder rolled in the Dream, I knew that it couldn’t possibly just be rain. The canyon burned and bled around us, red dust mixed with water. It looked and stank like blood. We escaped through the confessional door and into Gian’s Church in Freeport.
That was when my mother showed up.
I know that the limping woman in the Church wasn’t really my mother. For one thing, she would never meditate, seeing as she didn’t believe in all that stuff. Also, she would never, ever be that overtly cruel to me in front of anyone. The woman in the Dream wasn’t really my mother. Instead, she was a mirror-image of my worst nightmares. She slapped me, berated me, and called me a “filthy half-breed”. Gian stood up for me, though… and Father Gregory made an appearance. Eventually, she left, and so did we, waking up in the garden with no answers, but a whole lot of questions.
I’ve been having nightmares ever since the Dreaming. Gian gives me herbs before bed to help me sleep, but they don’t stop all the dreams. I’m still getting very little sleep, which leads me to my next story. Yesterday, Aria went missing.
I was reading her a story yesterday afternoon before her nap, and fell asleep myself. We were lying on the bed, and damn. I was comfortable. The fact that I haven’t been sleeping well certainly helped. Anyway, Gian wasn’t around, and Aria wanted someone to play with, so she crawled off the bed, found Kitty, and went on an adventure to find Daddy.
Meanwhile, I’m sound asleep at home.
Somehow she managed to find her way to the pub. I’m not sure what happened there, seeing as the details Melaina gave me later were a little on the sketchy side, but apparently Aria made friends with a mute man who wanted to help her and gave her some chocolate to calm her down. Eventually Melaina found her and brought her home to me, who by this time was panicking and running all over the place looking, expecting to find a ransom note.
Last night, I went to the pub with Aria to take a load off and relax with some tea. She fell asleep as soon as I put her down on the couch. Ophelia came around with an Ioun Stone, an ancient artifact from the desert. Kenata (my shamanic teacher) had one, but the inscriptions on this one are so hard to read… judging by the look of the characters, it’s easily over two thousand years old. Ophelia was really, really iffy about how and where she got it. I’ll explain what an Ioun Stone does for a shifter at a later time. My wrist’s getting tired from all this writing. I went home last night with the pendant and showed Gian. The thing certainly seems to like me… it shines and hums when I feel any strong emotion. I doubt I’ll wear it often, though. It’s a little heavy, and I wouldn’t want an enemy to get their hands on it during a fight or something. I wouldn’t want this little power-house turned against me.
That’s about it for now. Wow… I’ve written two pages! Maybe if I wrote a little more often, this wouldn’t happen.
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| Thunder on the Horizon |
[15 Aug 2004|09:17am] |
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mood |
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drained |
] |
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music |
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Aria playing on the deck.; the sound of Gian pulling weeds. |
] |
Gian woke me up this morning to show me a family of deer that was feeding in the yard. He’s so amazed at nature… it’s fun to watch his face light up. I held Aria up to the window to see. She thought it was neat… a Mommy and Daddy deer, and a Baby deer. She suggested we invite them inside to have breakfast, but Gian nullified that idea… we didn’t have any grass-cakes to share with them (and later, nudged me in the ribs and said “And Mommy would probably make a meal of them, hmm?”). I love being a vicious predator sometimes.
Right now I’m watching Aria play on the porch with Kitty and some wooden animals while Gian digs around in the garden (sometimes I swear he’s part badger). It’s nice just having some time to sit and watch my family do what they do. I might take Aria to the pond again today if it gets any hotter.
Ophelia came home last night, and Heat showed up at the pub as well. I was uptight and worried about the feelings I’ve been getting. Now, the sensation of something coming has actually filtered into my dreams. My dreams start out normally… then, slowly, I’m reminded of the ominous darkness on the western horizon that I’ve been feeling since the other day. Maybe I’ll hear thunder or the sky will turn grey. It varies, and it’s worrisome.
Anyway, as I was saying, Ophelia came home with a couple of new additions… namely, a crap-load of body-art. Wow. I’m all for tattoos, but I’d never cover my whole body. That’s daring, man. I told her about the feelings I’ve been having. Really, the more time I spend thinking about this premonition, the more certain I am that it’s coming, and that my fate may already be written out somewhere. I have no idea what to expect, but I know that something very big, very bad, and very important is going to happen to me. And honestly? I don’t think Gian’s going to be able to save me, this time.
Given the choice of my life or his… I wouldn’t want him to. Aria needs a Daddy.
There’s always something waiting to pull the rug out from underneath me. I hate to start following Gian’s philosophy, but I’m almost not surprised anymore when the shit hits the fan… I mean, there’s always something out there wanting to screw us over one way or another, right? In some cases, literally. We’ve made it this far… but what if this thing doesn’t roll over and die like Dawn did?
I hate to admit it, Journal… but I’m scared.
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[12 Aug 2004|12:01pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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bored |
] |
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music |
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Nothing. |
] |
Nothing much happened yesterday… Gian was out running errands or something, so Aria and I stuck around the house, thanks to the crummy, overcast weather. There wasn’t anything worth doing outside. I made supper and took a bath after Aria went to bed, then tried to catch up on some reading. Gian finally came home at around ten, and came immediately to bed. We both read for a while and went to sleep.
Lazy day. Yep. This morning, the weather is the same… and I am bored out of my little skull. I hope something happens today. Something not bad. Like... drinking.
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