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They say that I was bled dry...
Sep. 11th, 2006 07:44 pmHow exactly, I wonder, did they come to that ill-timed conclusion? Did they try to revive me? Did they give me their blood in order to see whether my parched lips would gather up the only thing that could save me? Pardon the fury in my voice but, I assure you they did not and it vexes me. They left their Elder to die and change there. My cells fighting the disgusting ravagement of the Lycan virus. I will never feel pure again. Surely, I will never be the same again.
If Kraven were still alive, I would have made what Marcus did to him look like the gentle flogging of a unruly child. I only curse Marcus from taking that pleasure from me. Poor, short-sighted, Marcus. I loved him in so many ways. He sired me. Tainted, as well he was, by the filthy blood of a Lycan. When the first drop of Lycan blood hit his lips, he was lost to us all. At least that's what those who are left tell me. Not that one could trust the ramblings of the glorious fops in the coven and those ladies whose intellect sharply reflects that of dim lightbulb. Obsessed with finding his brother William, instead of bringing back stability in the wake of Viktor's murder and Kraven's treachery, he left his kind without an elder. That is, until I came back. Indeed, above all, it was Marcus who commited the most heinous crime and destroyed Orghodaz and, those who didn't have time to flee for their lives.
For awhile, the Lycan virus did one thing for me. It made me more resilient. Without it, Corvinus' Coroner's would have surely made me wish for my death. Instead, I sent them to their's when they happened to lean in a bit too close for my taste. Lucky me. Weak, but alive, the next thing that I remember was trying to get off a large ship. Well no, forgive my lie, the last thing I remember was the faint smell of Alexander Corvinus' blood carried upon the air and a very large explosion that sent me flying into dark water. Blessed are the two who found me and gave their lives to save me, though I do not recall taking theirs. I shall make them guards of the highest order if they ever forgive me for the virus I passed onto them.
And so, it came to pass in these last five years, that Amelia-the last vampire Elder-became what she is today: determined to live, thristing for revenge, driven to reunite the covens, and hell bent on winning the choatic war that will undoubtly engulf us for her sins. They said that I was bled dry, dead. They underestimated my will to live.
If you want peace, prepare for war. Viktor understood that. It is in his honour that I will make the streets run red with the blood of our enemies.
If Kraven were still alive, I would have made what Marcus did to him look like the gentle flogging of a unruly child. I only curse Marcus from taking that pleasure from me. Poor, short-sighted, Marcus. I loved him in so many ways. He sired me. Tainted, as well he was, by the filthy blood of a Lycan. When the first drop of Lycan blood hit his lips, he was lost to us all. At least that's what those who are left tell me. Not that one could trust the ramblings of the glorious fops in the coven and those ladies whose intellect sharply reflects that of dim lightbulb. Obsessed with finding his brother William, instead of bringing back stability in the wake of Viktor's murder and Kraven's treachery, he left his kind without an elder. That is, until I came back. Indeed, above all, it was Marcus who commited the most heinous crime and destroyed Orghodaz and, those who didn't have time to flee for their lives.
For awhile, the Lycan virus did one thing for me. It made me more resilient. Without it, Corvinus' Coroner's would have surely made me wish for my death. Instead, I sent them to their's when they happened to lean in a bit too close for my taste. Lucky me. Weak, but alive, the next thing that I remember was trying to get off a large ship. Well no, forgive my lie, the last thing I remember was the faint smell of Alexander Corvinus' blood carried upon the air and a very large explosion that sent me flying into dark water. Blessed are the two who found me and gave their lives to save me, though I do not recall taking theirs. I shall make them guards of the highest order if they ever forgive me for the virus I passed onto them.
And so, it came to pass in these last five years, that Amelia-the last vampire Elder-became what she is today: determined to live, thristing for revenge, driven to reunite the covens, and hell bent on winning the choatic war that will undoubtly engulf us for her sins. They said that I was bled dry, dead. They underestimated my will to live.
If you want peace, prepare for war. Viktor understood that. It is in his honour that I will make the streets run red with the blood of our enemies.
