First off, thank you for taking my poll about the Greys. I didn't even know they still had the poll option on LJ, but my knowledge about LiveJournal declined after I lost Semagic, which isn't supported on a Mac.
The symbol above is a holy one, according to the Tarmi. It was the rune that represented the original Deaghydhe from which the three nations sprung after setting off across the multiverse in search for a new home. The three nations were the Rhyllans, the Thranodiena, and the Tarmi. Supposedly, the symbol has been seen by humans who have found themselves on board a Thranodiena craft. When I began mapping out the history of the Deaghydhe (DYAH gih theh), the symbol was one of the first things that arose from the first few brainstorms. It dates back to around 1985-86.
I still have oodles of notebook paper with notes about the Rhyllan and Tarmian histories. I have never really written much about the Thranodiena, because I wanted to keep them a mystery, even to myself, the reason being they were based on the Greys. They really didn't come into existence in relation to the Deaghydhen annals until I "reverse-engineered" an illustration of a Rhyllan, and it turned out to be a dead ringer for the Grey depicted on the cover of Communion. The only things I've suggested about them are 1) They fell in love with the Infinite Astral, their nation growing in the expanses between the stars, 2) The effects of radiation, solar winds, and gravity - or lack there of - triggered an evolution into bodies that were better suited for a space-dwelling people, and 3) Long after the Tarmi settled on Earth, the Thranodiena arrived as well, but made no contact with their Deaghydhen kin. Instead, they began studying the nature of Earth and its endless lifeforms, including humans. They've been doing this for hundreds of thousands of years. Why? I don't know. Someday, I may attempt to create a theory but, for the time being, I think the mystery sits well.
The only Tarmian creation that utilised the Deaghydhen rune and survived the purging of the race by the Apostate is Cadmus' staff, given to him by Kelat in The Blood Crown. I drew the staff on Cadmus' 5-page profile back in 1996.
First off, thank you for taking my poll about the Greys. I didn't even know they still had the poll option on LJ, but my knowledge about LiveJournal declined after I lost Semagic, which isn't supported on a Mac.
(From a post made on The Vampire Relics' Facebook Page with some extra added mental meandering that happened after the fact.)
One of the themes that threads throughout all three books is that of Absolution (it's important because of the capital A!). I'm not referring to just Christian absolution but the essence of the word itself, sparking the human imagination to entertain the possibility, or feel secure in their faith to believe without question, that forgiveness for anything is possible. One of the sub-hives, the Hive of Redemption, established by Thiyennen, took the idea of absolution to a whole other crazy level with many of its members, including Thiyennen, resorting to behaviour seen in the travelling Flagellants during the Black Death. This twisted version of what may achieve absolution is studied in depth in The Augury of Gideon, when Thiyennen and his allies capture and imprison Cadmus Pariah.
Of course, all of this is only my opinion, and I respect and will aggressively defend your opinions on the matter, because that would be only fair. The nature of true absolution, in my opinion, partially based on personal experiences, is one of being accepted and loved for who you are, faults and all, and being able to return to a possibly simpler (as in uncomplicated) point in your life, when you could embrace wonder with abandon, and be shed of guilt that only serves to break spirits down rather than build them up. Absolution happens when you no longer accept such programming imposed on you from almost the point of birth throughout your life.
A song by Eliza Gilkyson, entitled 'Emmanuel', is very close to what I have believed in the past regarding redemption and absolution, and it still has an effect on my beliefs (or lack thereof in recent years). Superficially, the song would appear to be Christ-centered (this is different from Christianity-centered in my world, so just bear with me), it addresses the longing we all carry, regardless of religious or spiritual persuasions, to return home, or to the past, or to some place or state of being that existed before we think fell to the lies of shame and sin that weigh much of the modern world down. Even that storyline, documenting the spiritual enslavement of humanity, shows up in 'The Blood Crown', the fault of which is clearly placed at the Apostate's door.
The first time I heard the song, at work in 1993 (I was inspecting the CD the song is on), I listened to it from a Christian perspective, although I am not Christian, based on its title alone. Assumptions are easily made, are they not? When the words sunk in, my first interpretation was of a reality where the fallen angel Sammael is welcomed home by Emmanuel after going through incarnations of humans, animals, and even things (a rock, at one point!) before he could bring himself to revisit the music he had made prior to leaving in pursuit of the glories and tragedies on Earth. This interpretation dictated the last picture in the video.
The bigger story the song tells isn't one that heaps guilt, fear, and ultimately spiritual banishment if you don't toe a particular line on the listener; rather, it gives the message that, even after you've experienced and done all you feel you need to, both the good and the bad, the door will be open when you want to walk through it to whatever you believe is there ('What Dreams May Come' is an example of what I'm trying to communicate here). From that perspective, the song does not belong to just one faith. It belongs to all faiths and all levels of spiritual sentience, including Atheism, human and non-human. It is non-judgemental, and can be enjoyed on a purely secular level, particularly from a psychological viewpoint. Liking and agreeing with Carl Jung may help here, too.
I believe that's truly the only way absolution or redemption can be achieved. It's an acceptance and a presence of old knowing that we tend to lose in the physical realms, and many may perceive such acceptance and old knowledge to be an external phenomenon, which is completely acceptable, but I think it also is present within everyone and everything. All that said, even though my history with the song predates all three books, 'Emmanuel' is definitely a strong musical presence in 'The Augury of Gideon', considering both the song and book address the concept of cyclic returning so that healing may follow.
I believe that Eliza Gilkyson achieved something greater than all of us, including herself, when she wrote this song, and I think it's one that should be shared with as many people as possible, not as a means of conversion of any sort, but as a campaign to allow us to not only forgive one another, but to forgive ourselves.
The video is one of my much earlier attempts at movie-making, so please overlook the general sorry mess it is. The song is rare and the album it's on has been out of print for ages, so there's more people than not who have never heard it. My making the video was an attempt to rectify that crime against good music. One thing I did want to draw your attention to, regarding the video, is that the pictures used, with the exception of the last one, are all tapestries or tile mosaics in the Byzantine style, or at least that's what Teh Intarwebz told me when I started collecting images for the vid. Byzantine art was a major influence on the physical appearance of the Tarmi, specifically because of the eyes of the people in the art. If one did not know, one might assume that everyone in Byzantium had gigantic alien eyes and, as a teenager when I started mapping my personal myths, I got all caught up in the what-ifs that arose in my mind from studying the art. (And why hasn't Ancient Aliens addressed such possibilities yet?) Using these images for the video helped me tie in the importance of the song to my own mythologies.
So, if you're still with me after this godawful ramble, I hope you enjoy the song, and I encourage you to share it people who may benefit from the non-demoninational and/or secular message of hope that it is never too late to embrace the absolution sitting around waiting for you to pick it up. It's inside you already, despite what you believe or don't believe. You were born with it, it's still there, and it'll be there until you die, if you're an Atheist, or continue on with you, if you believe in the existence of afterlife and the many flavours in which such beliefs come available. Even if they don't need a message like that, but do appreciate good music (and who doesn't?), I feel the song would be a gift to them, as well.
If you want to learn more about Eliza, she has a website: http://elizagilkyson.com/
I also made second crap video using another song from the same album, this one focusing on any number of pagan histories after encountering invading religions, sung from the viewpoint of a priestess who lived such a history, but the song is specially focused on the Divine Feminine, as it is represented in the song by the catch-all Goddess name, Diana. It's called 'I Become the Moon' and it also had an effect on the writing of the Relics trilogy, especially 'The Blood Crown,' which features the Tale of the Blood Moon, whose narrative focuses on the triumph of the Apostate over the remnants of Tarmian civilisation, and the subsequent tragedy of humanity losing its way in the wilderness of the conquering magus' lies.
And if any of this inspires you enough to want to read the books, here's the link to them, for your continued convenience: THE VAMPIRE RELICS ON AMAZON.
DF: Why write about Vampires?
TAE: I write about Vampires because I was raised on a steady media diet of vampirism, thanks to watching 'Dark Shadows' in my playpen whilst the mother unit toodled about.
While you're at it, explore the blog. Derrick is a fantastic writer and reviewer, so I'm sure his insights will tickle your fancy.
It may take up to five days for this to show up on my Amazon author's page, so I figured I'd upload it to the Cliffs and the Vampire Relics Facebook page. Hopefully, it makes sense.
When I first began writing The Chalice, I had no plan to carry the story any further. But, one day, I decided to write a little drabble documenting an encounter between Kelat and Cadmus Pariah. I wanted to see where a few hundred words describing Cadmus' invasion of Kelat's sacred space, hidden away in the heart of Jerusalem, would take me.
The result was Cadmus mentioning a mysterious crown I had never thought of before. He called it the Blood Crown and hinted that it was still in the Apostate's possession, somewhere in the twisted tunnels that navigated the Roman catacombs. From there, I was committed to expand the story.
I decided that I wanted to include Orphaeus Cygnus in the narrative, because I enjoyed describing the dynamic between him and Cadmus. That decision threw me way out in the realm of absurdity, when I realised I was conjuring what was essentially a horror/fantasy version of the Bob Hope/Bing Crosby Road Pictures, with Orphaeus and Cadmus taking on the mantle of those classic comedians. As a result, The Blood Crown carries with it a kind of levity in some of the situations Cadmus and Orphaeus find themselves, during their journey from Israel to Vatican City.
The Blood Crown is the book in which I decided to share myths I had conceived years prior to the writing of the Relics trilogy. Some of the tales were written in the 1980s, mapping the history of the Tarmi and their kin, who escaped a dying world in the hope of finding a new home. Other stories, like the ones that explain how the full moons got their names, were written after I became involved in my local Wiccan community, and became a kind of bard, participating as high priestess and sharing these new myths with those in the Caledonii Tradition. These were based on the concept behind Rudyard Kipling's Just-So Stories. I was always keen on why we believe what do. Why do we, and all beings on this Earth, behave in a certain manner? So it seemed a natural progression in my own spiritual education to ask why each of the full moons had titles attributed to them. As a result, The Moon Myths were born, but they had never been read outside my "circle" of Witch friends and acquaintances. Those stories, along with many others mentioned above, became the backbone of The Blood Crown.
To be frank, of the three books in the Relics series, The Blood Crown is my favourite. The only part of it that distressed me while writing it, and still does upon revisiting, is the story concerning Faust, in a large section of the narrative called "The Sainted Confessor."
Mentioned only in passing in The Chalice, Faust was a Vampire in New York City, who fell victim to Cadmus' charms in the dazzling Disco days of Studio 54. He grew to prominence as The Blood Crown's plot developed in an almost organic fashion. Since the character of Faust became anchored to a talented young actor I know, the horrors that befell him distressed me on a cellular level. During the time I wrote it, on through to present time, I would occasionally apologise to him. That part of the book, however, gives me faith that, sometimes, the story really does write itself. Faust evolved from an incidental mention in The Chalice to an integral part of the story in both The Blood Crown and The Augury of Gideon.
There were some liberties taken in regard to historical events and some geographical descriptions. This was intentional, because I don't perceive these stories as happening in our reality. That said, if you come across something in the book that doesn't quite compute, I invite you to reach out to see if it was a result of alternate reality voodoo, or actually a mistake on my part.
In fact, if you want to contact me about anything, by all means, do. You can do so by posting queries, concerns, or anything in between on my author's page here on Amazon, or you can find me on Facebook, with the username "VampireRelics."
I hope you enjoy reading The Blood Crown as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Ů sa dorken na’aaůlor kenropfehli
And I remember well in the distant realm of memory…..
Listen well, Child of Star and Child of Tree, to the youngest tale in the Cycle of Moon Myths. This is the last tale that humans know was told by the Tarmian folk for, with this tale, the last of the Tarmi veiled themselves from the World of Man, knowing that the time was not yet come for humanity to truly live the mystery.
It has been over a millennia since the Apostate had conjured upon the Dol-Princess and her Prince Thiyennen the Bloodlust, thus planting a seed of distrust between human and Tarma.
And now the Apostate had suggested that the Tarmi were the Fallen Ones so often mentioned in the Eastern Legends of humanity, and they would bring only grief and woe to the good people of the world. Days were dark indeed and the people began to live in fear of the ancient Dalni and the Teachers who answered to them. The Tarmi retreated to the mountains and forests of Europa. They abandoned Khemeth, for it was awash in confusion and strife, the kind they were unable to quell or cease altogether without looking like the tyrants the Apostate portrayed them to be. Much anger was directed at the Tarmian progenitors of Khemeth. The old symbols could no longer be read and were held in contempt by the humans who dwelt there still. But the Apostate read and understood the history of the Ancients, and he learned of the Twin Force of futility known only as Belien Tuthalidon.
And, from the fortress of temples and chapels contained in what was once Troy, the Apostate spread rumours that the Tarmi had brought with them the undying evil of which they themselves were an intrinsic part and worshiped without question. And they held humanity in thrall with their blasphemous teachings.
“See ye the true power of the Tarmi as they lurk in the night, feeding upon the blood of your Kith and Kin,” he proclaimed, using Kelat, Thiyennen, and their Vampire Hive as examples of his twisted truth. “They are indeed Satanspawn, born of their black gods. They fell to Earth by their own admission, these fallen angels, with the stain of evil tattooed upon their very spirits. They wish to enslave us with their magicks! The Bible says suffer not a Witch to live. Can we passively sit by and let these alien creatures take over the lands rightfully ours? No! I say no!”
And, to the shock of the Tarmi, more and more people began to believe in the Apostate. He built armies of Holy Men who marched throughout the country converting the folk to hate and fear the Tarmi and their human followers.
A great hopelessness fell upon the land for, as the Apostate spoke of Belien, Belien's futility awoke, their dark star a smear far above Eterah, drawing into it the negative adoration of humanity. And Belien Tuthalidon grew thrice stronger than before, being redefined by the words of the Apostate and the blind faith of his followers, and the Twins of Futility struck down Omanola and Thessalonika with plague and starvation. Humans throughout the countryside praised God for this act against the Evil Ones even as they themselves fell to pestilence, while the Apostate smiled, knowing that he had won.
And so the Tarmi of the fields and forests fled Westward toward the sanctuary of Meybhelahn, their human companions fleeing with them. But the Apostate desired the Tarmi utterly destroyed, so he called forth a great army composed of his most devoted servants
The leaves were painted and fell on chill days as the men came from throughout Europe. They were tall and pure zealots, untouched by woman and clad in the white of the Apostate. And they pursued the Tarmian procession, seeking to crush them before they reached Meybhelahn.
Two weeks did the White Army follow the Pilgrims. And it was that on one cold evening, as the Tarmian Pilgrims reached the Silver Gates of Meybhelahn, the White Army fell upon them. Immediately both Tarma and Human blocked the Gates so that none of the White Army could enter. A great slaughter ensued as the White Army laid waste to the Pilgrims. But the Tarmi would not fight. Through their tears and their terror, the Tarmi sang, returning to the Language of Old.
For it was song that was the first language and would be the last for any sentient being ever conceived in Existence to utter or to hear.
And Meneterah heard their beautiful music, and tasted their blood upon Her bosom, and She wept for what was lost. Now, it was always said that when people can hear the Earth cry, great and terrible things occur, for the Earth is our Mother and weeps always for Her children in times of joy as well as in times of sorrow. Eterah's weeping was heard throughout the land. The White Army ceased their purging to stop and listen to the ethereal weeping.
Never before had such an incredible sound been heard amongst the mortals of the Earth.
A heavy full moon illuminated the tragedy below. It was the first Moon of Autumn in the year 762 c.e. And as the Earth Mother wept, the blood of the slain ones rose in torrents and bathed the Full Moon. Before the Pilgrims and the White Army there appeared the Mother Mnemiva, Starry Kessilon, and Dark Vaadel, Mistress of Death.
Kessilon, Patron Goddess of the Tarmi, drifted to the Pilgrims and, enveloping them with starlight, sang. But Vaadel hovered over the cringing White Army, paralysing them with Her terrible beauty and the promise of swift and terrible vengeance.
Mnemiva spoke and Her voice was as a song:
"Ye of Eterah, remember always what it is that thou hast beheld on this night ~ the Night of the Blood Moon ~ for this ends the Age of Wonder, where Human and Tarma lived in harmony and magick. The Tarmi and their people shall pass from this realm to a place where only the faithful may someday follow. Humanity must relearn what it has lost under the dominion of the Apostate. But know this, o ye followers of Futility and Fear: the Full Moon before the Festival of Summersend shall forever be named Luma'Rhos, the Blood Moon, to remind thee of the Age thou hast ended with thy swords of hatred and spears of distrust. It is to remind thee that no one ever kills for God, but for those who deify themselves for the sake of power over others. With this crusade, thou hast sealed the fate of thy kind to always walk in darkness and fear, to be once-borne, to never see the Mantle of the Universe save by My Grace. Go ye back to the Apostate and tell him that his reign shall thrive for now, but that the Blood Moon shall loom yearly as a promise that My Children shall return to replant the Groves and sing to the Spirit which embodies All."
Mnemiva bade Vaadel release the White Army and they ran screaming and weeping into the hills, dropping their weapons as they fled.
And, as Mnemiva turned to the Pilgrims, Kessilon opened the Silver Gates of Meybhelahn, the Blessed Isle of the Tarmi.
"My Children, My Kinsfolk," Mnemiva whispered. "For thee Luma'Rhos shall represent thy fallen comrades martyred here by those grown blind to thy beauty. It shall herald a time when the Faithful may reach thee, for it will be when Luma'Rhos shines that soon the Veil shall grow thin and the Gates shall be revealed to those who can See. Welcome those who remember Our Ways, for it shall be these stray away children who may pave thy way back to this realm in some future bright with music and magick. But for now, go ye into Meybhelahn, be safe and happy, for the Andera love among thee and within thee always."
And so, under the moon awash with their blood, the Tarmian and Human Pilgrims entered into Blessed Meybhelahn ne'er to return until Humanity reclaims our beauty, our magick, and our Inner Song. So look ye to the Blood Moon, the full moon of October. The Veils grow thin and, in the Darkness, there is a Song.
I wasn't going to do this, but I don't have much of a choice at the mo, so here goes.
I have a few copies of The Blood Crown that I am selling, and I will sign them before I send them to you. The price is $26.00 and you can PayPal the fundage to me using firstname.lastname@example.org. Just be sure to include your name and address, so I'll know who to autograph the book to and where to send it. You can also send me a cheque. My mailing address is:
PO Box 807
Duncan, SC 29334
Here's to even more Vampires and Vampirism in 2012!
If all goes as planned August will be the month of the release of the second installment of The Vampire Relics, entitled The Blood Crown. With breathtaking cover art drawn by Art Center’s Amanda Cook and with plans for a for a future kindle, we here at Fey Publishing is very excited about the story and wonderment to come. Unlike The Chalice, The Blood Crown will focus primarily on the two vampires Cadmus Pariah and his arch-nemesis Orphaeus Cygnus as they travel by foot from Jerusalem to Rome to retrieve the second mysterious relic that is sacred to the Vampire Great Hive. Throughout the story, we will learn more of the ancient alien Elfin Tarmi, and their role in human development throughout the long ages.
We will also learn how Cadmus came to learn of the Blood Crown and the horror he enacted on another to acquire this knowledge. Not for the light of heart, The Blood Crown is a necessary and important story that connects both the first and the last of the The Vampire Relics trilogy. We hope you enjoy it.
In other news, I'll be delving deeper into the the third draft manuscript of The Blood Crown and making changes where needed as suggested by The Mother Unit. I need to get this done so I can pass it on to gunslingaaahhh as I want to get the finished product to Sophie ASAP. Khanada is wanting to draw Cadmus and asked me if I had any suggestions for the picture. I mentioned that a crown of thorns in the background would be superb. If all turns out well, her picture will be the cover of The Blood Crown as she's already given me permission to use the picture however I want. Of course, I'll need to get written permission for Fey Publishing's records, but I don't foresee that being a problem. Things seem to be magickally coming together.
Other things I want to do is go through more of The Blood Crown that mama edited. She's also willing to read through The Augury of Gideon, for which I'm eternally grateful. She's just such an avid reader and exemplary in English, I really appreciate this help. Of course, this doesn't mean I'm abandoning gunslingaaahhh. gunslingaaahhh will always be my editor. The Mother Unit is my ace in the hole. You can't proofread a manuscript too many times. That's my belief.
A friend of mine who also happens to be an artist just finished reading The Chalice, and now wants to draw Cadmus Pariah. She's already given me permission to use the piece however I want to use it. Depending on the route she takes, I may have the cover for The Blood Crown! She's an incredible artist and I'm looking forward to her interpretation of Cadmus Pariah. She said she had some other artistic obligations, so it may be a few months, but I'm a patient person and I just know that the wait will be worth the while.
Later on today, Janice is coming down to help me figure out how to block off the top of a certain area of the fence. Fitzgerald is climbing up and over the fence at this point and got out four times while Aunt Tudi and I were gone yesterday. Janice got him back in the yard each time and she saw what he was doing, so hopefully we'll be able to nip this in the bud once and for all. If this doesn't work, I'll have no choice but to crate his little irritating arse.
The Mother Unit proofread The Blood Crown for me and left me extensive notes with suggestions on things to change and grammatical errors. I need to start trawling through that and making the necessary adjustments to the manuscript in preparation to send it to Sophie. I also need to order another copy of The Chalice to send to vwip now that the moneys are finally transferred from PayPal. That four day wait can seem incredibly long sometimes.
Right now, though, I'm watching cartoons on Retro TV. I think I've entered my second childhood, or maybe I'm just reliving my kiddie days. You can't go wrong with He-Man and She Ra, though. Nope. Never.
Oh, and I have discovered that Techno/House music is ideal for proofreading. I clicked the genius button and have been grooving now for hours whilst I read. I may try other mixes, but I don't see their having the same effect on me as the Techno/House mix has.
booraven22 has mentioned on several occasions about making major revisions to the story. I've never had to do that. The story is exactly how it was told to me and I just wrote it down with my many grammatical mistakes. It's like I channel the stories, so revising it would be like sewing an extra leg to one of my dogs. It just seems unnatural. booraven22 must have much more control over her stories and characters than I do mine. At some point, early on in my stories, the characters take control and write through me. I barely remember anything about The Augury of Gideon, which is kind of scary. All I remember is getting up way early and writing like a fiend until the early afternoon, sometimes beyond.
Is this a sign of my insanity? Was Tish right to peg me for a lunatic. That still bothers me more than it ought to, I guess because Scott doesn't know the whole story and probably never will. Whenever I do something odd or out of the norm, I always wonder if Tish was right and was justified in shutting me out of helping Scott with his career. Then again, if I were still helping Scott, I wouldn't have gotten these manuscripts written in the short period of time that I did. Everything happens for a reason I guess. It doesn't mean I have to like it though.
Like any warm-blooded human, I like to be appreciated for my work. I haven't been and I won't be on the Scott front, but maybe I will with The Vampire Relics. I'd like to someday see it on film. I know that's stretching the dream a little tightly, but it's a dream nonetheless. Tom Hardy would make such a perfect Cadmus unless young Finn wanted to take off the hat, shave his head, and try his hand at acting. I doubt that was ever happen.
Okay, enough babbling. Time to read around 5000 more words before I can't take anymore.
More than likely, I will finish this book today. I've been writing like a fiend for days now. When <lj user="gunslingaaahhh"> gets home, she'll have a manuscript of well over 120,000 words to edit. God help her. I'm not currently satisfied with the ending, but that's the great thing about writing ~ you can always change the ending. So far, the past 10k words or so have been written by the characters themselves. I love it when that happens. It's like being possessed, for lack of a better description. I wonder if people who are possessed by possible demons are those who don't have the ability to write out what is being channeled through them. Does that make me demon-possessed. In a way, I guess I am. Cadmus is most definitely demonic in nature. His parents are so proud ::she writes sarcastically::
So anyway...I want to do a rewrite on what transpires after Cadmus dons the Blood Crown. I'm just not satisfied with the instructions given to Orphaeus. I may trash them altogether and have Orphaeus run a gauntlet to get out of the catacombs; however, that may make the book too long and I don't want that. We'll see where it takes us. I'm drinking Monster energy coffees, so God only knows what will happen on this fine day.
Cadmus wasn’t hungry. He lay in the dark of the hotel and dozed while Orphaeus was gone. As soon as the Swan returned, he would go into the Otranto Notte night to find his own food. He wondered if there were any Vampires to be had in such a small place. If not, a human would have to suffice.
Soon, Orphaeus returned, obviously well-sated and deeply satisfied. He said nothing to Cadmus and Cadmus returned the favour, lifting himself from his bed and walking to the door. Orphaeus kept his back to the Pariah as the vampire left their small plaster and stone chamber.
Walking out into the crisp ocean air, Cadmus watched the people secure their boats for the night. He soon came to the public houses where the fishermen and their women would meet for the night, pairing up like the rutting apes they were, until the sun once more called the men out to fish the waters for fortune and food. One large public house, called Fermo del giorno caught Cadmus’ eye. The double entendre was not lost on his growing sense of humour.
He entered into the pub and all eyes turned his way. In Italian, he explained that he was merely a traveler in need of some good ale and good food, preferably the catch of the day. The waitress warmed to him immediately, being a buxom lass of about 17, her dark curly hair spilling about her shoulders like storm clouds on a Spring day. Turned out her name was Nunilona.
“That’s a very old name, isn’t it?” Cadmus asked conversationally.
She blushed and nodded. “My parents are fans of ancient Roma, so I ended up with a Roman name. You like?”
“Si, very much,” said Cadmus in the colloquial Italian. “So what is the catch of the day, since this after all the Catch of the Day.”
“Crab cakes and our special house wine,” Nunilona enthusiastically.
“Then that is what I will have, along with your charming company if you get a chance to break with me.”
Nunilona brushed furiously and nodded her head. “It would be an honour – uh…”
“Cadmus, also a very old name.”
Nunilona beamed. “Dragon killer! I have heard the legends.”
Not nearly what the actual truth is, he thought to himself.
Before he knew it, Nunilona brought Cadmus a large plate of crab cakes with a bowl of steaming hot salmon soup, a bowl of home-baked bread, and a flask of room-temperature wine with a glass. She sat down across from him and smiled at him.
“Please feel free to eat with me,” Cadmus said, knowing that he could never pretend to eat all of this swill when all he wanted was the hot transubstantiated blood of this beauty before him.
Nunilona took a rolle of bread and a crab cake as she began to animatedly discuss her plans to someday make it to Rome to become a singer and dancer. Cadmus politely took part in the conversation, pulling from his various trapped souls to respond correctly at every nuance Nunilona offered her handsome dinner mate.
Soon dinner was complete and the two shared the wine, which was white and dry. Cadmus only sipped at his, waiting for the real wine to pour into him. They discussed the village in which Nunilona felt herself trapped, and her dreams of being a singer on one of the many glamourous stages in Rome.
“And the Vatican, I would simply die to stand in the Vatican and see the Pope, even though my sins are numerous.”
“Well, for what it is worth,” Cadmus whispered, taking her right hand and kissing her knuckles. “I absolve you of all sin, you innocent amongst the much guiltier in this land of horrors. Can you walk with me?
“My father owns this pub. He won’t mind.”
“Come then. Let us enjoy the sea air and the cries of the birds.”
Cadmus took her by the hand and pulled her from the pub, but not before paying for the meal he barely touched. He and Nunilona strolled along the cobbled stone that framed the sparse shops and ristorantes, enjoying the song-laden voice of the birds responding to the crash of waves and the endless breeze.
“Nunilona, I’ve something to show you that will allow you to behold wonders you’ve yet to even ponder in your short few years. All it will take is your acquiescence.
Nunilona was enthralled and, of course, took Cadmus up on his offer. She followed him to a crashed fisherman’s boat near the sea tide and sat down across from him. Cadmus drew out his chalice and set it between them. “Now are you sure you want to see?”
“Is it in the chalice that I see these things?”
“No child, it’s in my eyes. Look at them and see thousands of years of beauty, anguish, music, lovemaking, murder, the whole of human existence. Watch and become a part of it, my lovely Nunilona. Join my pets and feed me on this, the last night of your life.”
Nunilona flinched at this, but Cadmus latched on to her arms and caught her gaze in his own black one. He pulled at her soul, taking every innocent flirtation from her memory, watching as she play on the shore, feeling disgust at the cleaning of fish. Everything Nunilona was became his within a matter of moments until Nunilona was no more than a shell of a human, a mechanism whose blood sas no longer needed but to sustain an empty shell.
Taking out his dragon claw knife, Cadmus slit the automaton’s throat and, tipping back the head, allowed the gush of blood from her neck to fall into the chalice. All eight pints were collected and Cadmus whispered vespers and utterances of abomination over the chalice as the blood sat pooled and ready for ingestion.
The white ghost of what was once Nunilona he left behind the old fisherman’s boat as he stood and sipped her virgin blood, fully transformed into Kelat’s ancient elixir. It was time to fly again before the corpse was found. But Cadmus had time. He strolled the boardwalk as he drank his meal, eventually returning to collect Orphaeus so that they could head for their final destination.
“More than ready,” Orphaeus replied with a conviction that surprised even himself.for what we are and take measure to end our lives. And there’s nothing worse than an angry mob out for blood.”
“You’ve surmised the situation surprisingly well,” Cadmus muttered. “And what conclusion have you drawn?”( Read more... )
As it stands now, I have Cadmus and Orphaeus in Kosovo where Orphaeus summoned the tale of how humanity came to be on Earth. This was always meant to be the last memory Orphaeus tapped before the two enter the catacombs beneath the Vatican. Having the two Vampires travel, no matter how swiftly they traveled, has been exceedingly difficult because I always wanted to keep it fresh. There's only so much you can do with two characters, one of which is still quite static in his emotional development. I felt like the narrative was on the threshold of being repetitive or stale.
Since it came out that Orphaeus can turn into a raven, I've decided to have the Vampires travel over the Adriatic sea at top Vampiric speed. This will get them to Rome quicker and set up the last part of the book where Cadmus and Orphaeus enter the catacombs to face the dread wards set up by the Apostate. I'm hoping to get all that written today. If I keep going the way I'm going, the book will be finished by next week. And it's about bloody time, too.
Cadmus sat on his bed and watched Orphaeus breathe evenly as he slept. Satisfied he was asleep, Cadmus lay down, his bare head prickling in response to the soft pillow beneath it. Almost instantly he was asleep. And, this time, the Pariah dreamt.
He was running, but he wasn’t certain if he were running toward or away from something. The moon was high in the sky, but there seemed to be a shadow cowling it in some impossible way. Cadmus felt moisture on his face and he reached up, expecting to find Blood on his hands; instead, he found tears…his tears.
It was then that he heard them, the cries of a lynch mob. His judge and jury were hot on his heels, ready to exact a certain dreadful justice upon his body. It wasn’t meant for him to survive this gauntlet. They were herding him through a path of misery until it was time for them to end his life. He was more powerful than all of them, yet he was somehow unable to overcome them with what he had. Or was it something he did not have?
“You have all you need for now,” a familiar voice said to him in the dream. “You have come to the end of your journey and it is the end for everyone. These tears you cry are tears of redemption. Accept them when they come to you in your waking hours.”
“Who are you?” Cadmus asked the dream voice.
“You know who I am, Cadmus. And you know who I will be. It’s all been foretold. You’ll see the world victorious when the time comes.”
Cadmus opened his giant eyes and turned them to the small window of their room. Sun still filtered in, but it was a late light. They still had two more hours to wait. Turning away from the offending light, Cadmus settled in to patiently wait until it was time to go. He’d slept for many hours and dreamt the majority of it. He felt more exhausted now than he did before he chased Morpheus. Needing mortal sleep was the one thing Cadmus hated about being a living Vampire. If he never slept again, it was suit him just fine.
He thought about the dream as he listened to Orphaeus sleep. Who had it been speaking to him in the dream? He did not know, despite the speaker’s assurance that he did. Not knowing anything vexed Cadmus more than anything in the world. His was a perfect mind that needed no prompting to know anything, or at least he liked to think it was. When coming against a thing that was unknown to him, Cadmus would usually either ignore it or kill it. If it were unknown to Cadmus, it surely deserved one of the two options, if not both. There was nothing in this world that Cadmus did not know.
But that voice, that voice… How vexing was that voice. It reminded him of a voice from long ago, one that put his teeth on edge and wrangled his last nerve. Who had that been? The dream and voice were fading, as dreams and their revenants tended to do, leaving Cadmus alone with unfinished thoughts and unresolved questions. And that vexed him even more.
So it was that the Apostate was utterly banned from the realms of the Tarmi. He was driven out of Khemeth and a geasa was placed upon him, so that he could not enter into the realms of the Tarmi without suffering the pain he had inflicted upon his fellow Earthlings.
Sent into the wilds, the Apostate roamed the unknown roads Westward as he sought out the underground strongholds that the Tarmi once shared with the first race, the dragons. There he could begin his slowly growing, intricate plot to punish the Tarmi for their indiscretions. How dare they assume to banish him, who had learned the secret genomes of both human and Tarmi? He was more powerful than even the wisest of priests in the Colleges. And his taste for the forbidden and profane knew no depths, so nothing was beyond his capacity and bid for power. The Apostate would stop at nothing to make his former teachers pay for what they had done to him. Even if it took him thousands of years, he would make certain that the Tarmi would experience the deepest wounds imaginable, and their scars would forever carry the memory of the Apostate had inflicted upon them. His name would be uttered with dread and respect before the end of this. In the meantime, he would work his magicks upon his human counterparts, for they were much easier to manipulate and torture in every way. Before they knew it, humanity would be cowed and enslaved without even ever knowing it.
After this work of science and magick, folk from around the empire of Khemeth flocked to Telhumethiel’s laboratory so that he could help them see better. He made only a few pairs of spectacles before moving on to other studies. But the people kept coming in droves, begging Telhumethiel to help them in their various afflictions.
Telhumethiel heard them and decided to focus on the medical sciences of alchemy. He studied the blood primarily, at first only taking a few drops from willing test subjects.
But eventually that was not enough for Telhumethiel. He began capturing some of the wild beasts that lived in the vicinity of Khemeth, caging them and running various, taking tests great amounts of their blood. When they died, Telhumethiel buried them in a small chamber within his laboratory, for he knew the Tarmian teachers would not condone his work. They taught never to harm or kill, but Telhumethiel had done both in the name of his alchemical explorations.
After some time and many animal deaths, Telhumethiel produced some medicines to help the humans who constantly clamoured for his genius to heal them. He swelled with pride when they celebrated his name in the streets of Khemeth. And he felt he could do much more if he graduated his test subjects.
It was then that Telhumethiel began to take humans into his laboratory. He picked them out from the throng waiting to be healed and he took pints of their blood, studying the various aberrations therein. His reasoning was that he could do so much more good if his subjects were of the same species as the crowds waiting at his door to be healed.
But Telhumethiel was not torturing humans and creating new medicines and healing methods out of a desire to heal; he was breaking the Tarmian laws in order to better glorify himself. And he began to enjoy administering punishments to his test subjects who cried too loudly or begged to often. Eventually, his subject would finally escape the alchemist’s lab by dying and Telhumethiel the broken person in his secret chamber of death, and bring in new test subjects.
Telhumethiel’s primary teacher, Fer’Jinn, visited his student unexpectedly and saw the bound humans, battered and bloody, begging for release. He released the humans and, as they ran from the lab, Fer’Jinn admonished Telhumethiel for his crimes, telling him that his practices were wholly intolerable and that he would be banished from the school.
“Not if they don’t know about it,” said Telhumethiel, and he used his advanced knowledge of alchemy to capture and bind Fer’Jinn. It was at this time that the promising young student performed deliberate acts of horror upon Fer’Jinn’s body. He took some of the Tarma’s blood, studying this sacred fluid with great fervour, learning the secrets of this sacred race.
After three days of agony, Fer’Jinn finally escaped the laboratory in Telhumethiel’s absence, running as fast as he could to the college palace. He told of Telhumethiel’s crimes and the high council of Khemeth bade Telhumethiel to come before them.
Standing before the high council, Telhumethiel was cast out of the College of Khemeth and denied entry to any other Tarmian school.
“This matters not to me, Telhumethiel said to them. “I have seen the sacred blood and made note of its song. I’ve seen and mapped every tiny nuance of human blood. I know everything there is to know about any of you and I can use that to heal or to punish. If you won’t allow me to continue my studies here, then punishment is the only answer. How dare you try to wield power over me? Some day you will know the power I possess. I can make disease as easily as I can heal it. What will your little lap dogs think when the Tarmi are defenseless against me? If it’s the last thing I do, I shall sunder the Tarmi and humanity. They will bow to me, the humans and utter curses at you. What will you do then?”
“You speak such things with pride and hatred in your heart,” Fer’Jinn said. “You are banished from this realm. Banished and called Apostate.”So it was that the Apostate was utterly banned from the realms of the Tarmi.
Cadmus drew the air in through his nostrils.
“The stench of your fear pollutes the air,” he growled at the man in Hebrew. “But I will not complain, for that animal fight or flight instinct only serves to fortify your sickly blood and enrich it within my chalice.”
“What are you?” The man came close to squealing through half-closed wind-pipes.
“I am a child of Lilith,” Cadmus whispered. “Her only child in fact, wrought of demon seed and stirred to life by the direst mantras you dare imagine in the dark of night as you lay awake pondering your various perversions. I am that which is brought forth when hopelessness and futility are wed, when all that you thought good in the world…disappears…and you are left in a diaphanous void, lost, lonely, eternally bound to nothingness. Come…let me show you how beautiful it can be.”
Speaking of signs, there's a new daycare in Duncan called Grins and Giggles. The sign out front is white with red lettering. I am so tempted to sneak over there in the night, paint over the Grins with white and replace it with the word Shits. "I take my son Fred here to Shits and Giggles Daycare!" It reminded me of when the shaved ice stand in Duncan had their "Hawaiian Shaved Ice" sign altered to read "Hawaiian Shaved Pussy." That was bloody priceless right there.
I'm slowly constructing the playlist for The Augury of Gideon. I've been bantering around in the brain pan about possible chapter names too. Here's what I've come up with so far.
- The Violent Inquisition
- The Mortal Paladin (this would be the chapter into which I'll be injecting my Agatha short story "The Shroud.")
- Defeated Dragon
- The Found Path
- Said the Child to the Mother
- The Final Reunion
This writing two books at the same time is actually kind of fun, if not a little frustrating. The rewrites on The Blood Crown are going to be ridiculous because I wrote a lot if it in stream of consciousness whilst whacked out on Monster coffees. I'm hoping Augury won't be as difficult on gunslingaaahhh.
I just witnessed Aunt Tudi kick a news bee's ass out of the front door. I mean literally, she booted his fat ass out. He looked back at her resentfully and said "kiss my ass next time, byotch." Yes, I speak bee and he was rather vociferous regarding his poor treatment as a guest in our home. Now, if gypsyboy70 had been here, he would have screamed like a leetle gurrl and passed flat out. He doesn't like bees. Why are so many of my friends and acquaintances afraid of bugs? I don't get it. Now, if they feared centipedes and millipedes, I could understand that, because those things are hellspawn from the planet EEEEEEEEEEEEEEK. But bees and spiders? Harmless. Mostly. Like Earth in The Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy.
I've done my LJ and FB cuts. If you were one of them and want to protest, feel free. I'll add you back in a New York minute. But I don't see that happening 'cos the folks I said goodbye to were hardly active at all anyway. And I'm betting that some of them are actually grateful to be rid of me. I know I'm grateful to be rid of me when I get to sleep. Finally, some time away from myself!
Speaking of sleep, Zyprexa is helping me do that. It may kill me, but I was close to death because of not sleeping anyway. It's either take the Zyprexa or take walk in the river. Insomnia can make you want to do ungodly things, like commit suicide. If you're dead, you're sleeping the Big Sleep. I was taking that option quite seriously last week. As a result, I came really close to being hospitalised by the doctors at mental health until I explained to them that I am intractable when it comes to medication. When a couple of Advil would help a normal person, I have to take like four or six. It runs in the family to be this way too. So the doctor gave me the next to the largest strength of Zyprexa. The first night I slept 13 hours. Second night, 7. Consecutive nights have me averaging about 5 or 6, but that's 5 or 6 more hours than I was getting and I'm achieving REM 'cos I remember having dreams. I wish I could remember the dreams, but I know I'm having them. I may have to write a love poem to Zyprexa.
There's something I've been needing to do for a while and I may just do it this evening. I need to take down the Joker posters and stash them away as a moment of short-lived blissful memorabilia. In their place, I'll be mounting on the wall a Shriekback poster from the Go Bang! era. How I'm going to sleep with Barry looming over me is yet to be surmised. We'll see how well the Zyprexa does after the poster shuffling has been achieved. And yes, there will be a picture made. God help us all.
In closing, I am hungry and want lamb koorma with naan immediately, but I'll settle for a peanut butter sammich.
They covered several hundred miles to reach to the large city of Aleppo, Syria just as the sun was peaking over the horizon. They took refuge in a cinema, which thrilled Orphaeus, who seemed to be quite the movie buff. Much to Cadmus irritation, he could name the composer of the movie score before seeing the man or woman’s name.
“It’s a talent I have,” Orphaeus said, smiling and elbowing Cadmus fraternally.
“Do not touch me.”
Orphaeus looked at the frozen-faced Cadmus, then returned to the movie on screen, a film called Wanted directed by Russian film-maker Timur Bekmambetov and music by Danny Elfman.
“That James McAvoy, he’s a card,” Orphaeus said conversationally, to which he got no reply by Cadmus Pariah.
Cadmus was actually enthralled by the star. He reminded him of Faust mortated and it discomforted him as well as fascinated him with every second of screen time. He wanted the man dead whilst simultaneously wanting to make him first of his new collection of beautiful pets. All of this distressed Cadmus, who looked forward to the next movie if only to be shed of the image of the Scottish actor.
Now it's just a matter of getting off my tuckus and continuing the story of The Blood Crown. Everything seems to be coming together in my mind. I want to get it on paper before I lose my mind.
The Joker Blogs will be coming to a conclusion soon. Only a few more episodes to go before the finale and the Big Reveal, when Little Bro finally takes off the war paint for people to see who he is. I'll be sad to see the Blogs end because I have enjoyed them immensely, but I am looking forward to the Big Reveal and all the good things to follow for Dude. I'm unsure I'll be a part of that and, if I'm not, that's okay. I've done what I can do and that's all anyone can ever do, so I have no regrets there. I just hope I've been able to help and that the gathering of what is essentially his first fan club will assist him in bringing more unique and brilliant entertainment to people.
If I don't end up with another rare tropical disease, I think I'm going to win NaNoWriMo. I won't have The Blood Crown finished, but I'll have it about three-quarters of the way, so it won't take long to bring it to a satisfactory conclusion. I already have that in my mind. The only thing I don't know about is what Cadmus and Orphaeus face when they finally enter the catacombs under the Vatican. I guess they'll tell me when they get there. Cadmus has certainly been wordy of late, so I'm sure he'll disclose what he needs to when he feels like it. Ha ha!
HOW DOES HE DO THAT? Oh, never mind. I know how...
Now the question remains to be answered: will that one of many weirdo moments in my life in relation to B fuel my fire to write more or shut me down for the day? 'Cos right now, I'm all owl-eyed and freaked out. After 10 years, you'd think I'd get used to it.
But then iTunes decided to play "True Colours" by Cyndi Lauper. This is the song that helped create the Angel that began to visit Faust during his tribulation. She always came to him in a kind of a rainbow and would disappear by descending into his body. This song also said a lot about the character of Faust. Despite his Vampiric nature, he never lost his human spirit, which was inherently good. He was a genuinely good soul. I want to show this in The Augury of Gideon, even though his mortal self returns as a little wounded. He returns with memories of what Cadmus did to him as Faust and he finds himself being forced to align with the entity who visited such agony upon his person.
Then again, had it not been for Cadmus, Faust would never have been sainted. He would never have returned to his mortal state as Kallum McCreary. I'm wondering if Kallum will purchase a Triquetra to wear in The Augury of Gideon. Not only would it be a nod of appreciation and honour to Bear McCreary, but it would also fit in the story, representing the three Vampire Relics and the fact that Kallum will be the key to unlocking the Augury of Gideon. I'm thinking it will be Cadmus who actually finds it, who lays his hands upon the relic first. He's the one who is in possession of the first relic, the chalice of Kelat, and he's the one who claims the Blood Crown, even though it eventually goes into Kelat's possession, since she is the only who can touch the thing without falling into a kind of coma.
But that's a story for later on in The Blood Crown. I have the feeling that I may actually win NaNoWriMo because I'm so eager to finish The Blood Crown so I can get back to Kallum. Watching the movie Wanted has not been a great help to me. James McAvoy's secondary anchorage to the character is stronger for the mortal Kallum than it was to the Vampire Faust. One thing that won't change is Kallum's cerulean eyes. James McAvoy gifted those to the Vampire and he'll continue to gift them to the sainted mortal.
So strange that a plot device has become so important to the overall story. Then again, Cadmus was a plot device at one time. Now he's the main character. Funny how the characters demand their place in the world of my making. Do we do the same with God?
Before I go any further, I want to be very clear here. Yes, I wait for my characters to tell me things and inhabit me in a way. Yes, that might sound crazy. If it does, I make no apologies for that. Perhaps it's because you don't understand the creative process and therefore dismiss it as the thinking processes of someone who is of questionable sanity. If so, I say that it's your loss and I feel sorry for you. That said, on to the revelations of Cadmus.
Take today, for instance: Cadmus has always had this nondescript home on the eastern edge of the West Country, about a hour away from London. He's close enough to prey upon the large Vampire population of London, but far enough away for him to also maintain his herd of humans in peace, away from prying eyes. His home always seemed to be comprised of long halls and multiple small rooms, but that's all that ever came to me. Today, Cadmus explained the nature of his home. He's been in England for close to a thousand years and would have had access to structures others would not normally have. He also has certain powers, like geasa, which he could use to hide things. So it turns out his home in the West Country is actually a very small castle, long forgotten by the people of the region. It contains a maze underneath wherein Cadmus throws away the dead or even dying cattle.
This is what he intends to do with Madeleine, actually, but certain things about her save her from that fate. Now this opened up another question about her relationship with Cadmus. She has known him since 1981 and established Magnificat with him under the name of Mary Magdalene. She fell in love at first site with him and he placed a thralling kiss upon her to hold her in that moment of love so that she could become his working partner and still maintain the hope that there would be more, despite watching him take person after person off his home in the country. Through it all, she stuck with him. But he disappears for a time after the events of The Chalice and she has become more insistent in trying to find him. Her separation from him as weakened the enthrallment to the point that she's actually going to his West Country home and waiting for him to return. Another kiss won't work now...she's become too empowered after tasting mental and emotional freedom. So does he just kill her outright? How can he collect her blood? And, what's more important, how can he collect her soul? Because that's what Cadmus really wants, is his partner's spirit.
I think it may be time for a consummation. Cadmus didn't even tup his bride because he wanted her to remain inviolate. It's safe to assume that, since he's alive, he must sometimes relieve certain biological *ahem* needs, but it's always been a given that he does so on his own, not needing or wanting the touch of another. But I think he might feel more kindly toward her and allow her that consummation. Prior to the Night of the Chalice, Cadmus was essentially emotionless except for moments of extreme rage or hatred. This is explained in "Sui Generis." His emotions were switched on by the his conflict with Kelat that night and, now, he's beginning to explore those more in the Blood Crown. This is a good way to show how far he's come from the events in "The Sainted Confessor."
Of course, after that, it's back to business as usual. And what grisly business it is. For the entire course of this chapter, Cadmus is going to be speaking to me and through me. If I come across as exceedingly polite, yet vicious, that's the reason why. Just tell me to snap out of it. The other day, I said something to someone and J and Faust both came out in the two short sentences I wrote. God help me, I'm a walking bag of insane characters. And NaNo has just begun!
Is that a dagger or a crucifix I see
You hold so tightly in your hand
And all the while the distance grows between you and me
I do not understand
Here's hoping it turns out to be everything I hope it to be.
As soon as I finish "The Artist's Date," I need to complete my outline of The Blood Crown for NaNoWriMo. "The Sainted Confessor" was always going to be the largest chapter in the book and, since I had to go ahead and write it thanks to anchoring Faust to the worst person on Earth, it totally messes with my word count for NaNo. It reached novella status, it got so huge (38,605 words!), and I actually had to break it down into mini-chapters. They are entitled: "The Timeless Vagabond," "Session One," "Session Two," "Session Three," "Session Four," and "The Incorruptible Dove." If I reach my 50k for NaNo, the novel will be right at 89,000 words. The Chalice is 88,650 words. That said, I'm thinking that The Vampire Relics will be one great big book with three pretty decent-sized parts. I'll leave a decision like that, though, to my editor. ;)
I know I haven't been the most communicative person of late, thanks to my involvement with The Joker Blogs. Since I'm participating in NaNoWriMo, it's not going to be much better, but I do plan on writing about my progress here. Hopefully, I can keep up with my f-list on a certain level too. I hope so. I miss everyone here.
Speaking of The Joker Blogs, I'll be busy tomorrow getting ready for a double release of Bloggy Goodness Saturday morning. At least that's the plan, not that any of us officially plan anything, in the tradition of The Joker in TDK. We all just "do things." But I will say that I'm slowly preparing for the viral onslaught come Saturday. And I'm pleased that the Halloween task instructions seem pretty clear. No one has really asked "what the hell does this mean?" So I guess I did my job there okay. I love writing out task instructions and Blog synopses, among other things, for Dude. I can't say I've enjoyed doing something this much in a very long time. I'll be sad to see it end.
As for doing things for The Joker Blogs and participating in NaNoWriMo, I don't know where my head is, but I'm going to attempt to do both. The only reason I'm doing NaNo is to finish The Blood Crown. If I don't make my 50k because I'm busy with The Joker Blogs, then so be it. I made a promise months ago and I intend to stand by that promise no matter what. Either way, I'll be winning because I'll be that much closer, if not finished with, The Blood Crown. And then I can move on to The Augury of Gideon.
Aunt Tudi and I have errands to run early tomorrow morning. I'll be purchasing more energy shots while I'm out...just in case. If they aren't needed, then at least I'll have them for NaNoWriMo and don't think I won't use them. I'm a maniac.
And that makes me angry at myself. Because I was fool enough to allow these people any access to my life to begin with, I'm now having to suffer their intolerability indefinitely. The situation is dire and untenable. And I have only myself to blame. I've suffered so much unwarranted abuse over the past few months and I've searched my life over the past few years to see if maybe Karma might be involved here. I have found nothing to merit such foulness. I'm still in the process of sorting out the situation. The more I'm forced to dwell on it, the more infuriated I become. If anger makes a better Sith, I'm the best Sith in the galaxy, this one or the other one that's far, far away. My rage has been sufficiently honed.
I am once again behind on my email. There just doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day for me to do everything I need or want to do. One of my problems is focus. Fibro Fog has been a serious issue for me of late and this doesn't amuse me in the least. One thing that did seem to help that condition was my consumption of a couple of Arizona Rx Energy Fast Shots the other night. No, I didn't drink two at one sitting. I paced them out over the course of a few hours. I needed to be awake and alert that night, and I needed my faculties. I got everything I needed out of that, but I am not making a habit of drinking energy drinks. First of all, despite the herbal base of such concoctions (extreme caffeine notwithstanding), I don't think they're very good for you. They serve a purpose when one needs to remain on one's toes but, other than that, it's a poor substitute for overcoming Fibro Fog naturally. It's just something I have to deal with in my own way and without the risky effects of energy elixirs. That's not to say I won't get more Arizonas if the need arises, given similar situations like the other night. I'm just not going to Do Whacka Do on a regular basis.
Even though I have signed up to participate in NaNoWriMo, I have resigned myself to the fact that I will not win this year; however, that's not to say I won't succeed in my goal. There are two reasons I signed up for NaNo. The main reason was to challenge myself to finish The Blood Crown. Even though I doubt I'll reach my 50k goal required by NaNo to win, I'm pretty certain I'll come close to completing the second installment of The Vampire Relics. I've created a Facebook group for the Relics and will probably create an LJ comm for them as well. When I do this, I'll be deleting chalice_novel. gunslingaaahhh is going to be editing The Chalice, which will go up in installments in the new Vampire Relics community. She's currently editing "The Sainted Confessor," which is a huge chunk of The Blood Crown. That'll be the first thing to go up in the FB group, but it won't appear in the community over here until The Blood Crown is complete.
I won't win NaNo this year because The Joker Blogs is still going on and will continue past Samhain. I was under the impression the series would end at Halloween. This has been extended. I don't know when the series will end now. Who knows? The current series may end and then another may begin? That's total speculation on my part maybe just a wee tad of wishful thinking. Either way, when I committed to help Dude with my own odd brand of PR, I did so for the long haul or until he tells me to walk the plank. I can't turn away from my duties to TJB for the entire month of November. I don't feel right doing it. It's not who I am to make a commitment, then just wander off for a little while when I might be needed to do what I promised I would do. So I'll be balancing NaNo and TJB in November and that means writing 50k words in 30 days might not be the most realistic goal in the world.
Is it doable? It might be. I'm going to give it my all. I'll give my all to both projects. But some things, like email, may be neglected as a result. Best to leave me messages on my posts here or reach out to me on Facebook or Twitter. That's not to say I won't write you back if you send me an email. I'm just saying it may take a while. When you have no mind to wrap around all the things you're doing, life in general gets a little convoluted.
Speaking of email, I got an email notification of a comment posted to my You Tube channel. It says: Tinhuviel...WOW! I knew you from your Shriekback yahoogroup back about 10 years ago! Not sure if I was Lilly Tilly, Sierra Bloom or Heide (or was I meengreens) in those days, LOL
I read an awesome story of yours back then, something very Vampirish, with a man remindful of B. Great stuff... just found your name on a... what else? ... Shriekback video!
How freaky-cool is that? I remember HeideHo very well. We had some very cool astrological conversations, mainly about B's chart, which is oddly almost identical to mine, even though our birthdays are almost 11 years apart and we were born in extremely different locales. Guess that's one reason why we've always kind of grokked on both a spoken and unspoken level. I left a comment on Heide's YT channel and I've friended her. If I'm not mistaken, she's a Canadian. I love Canadians. It's good to reconnect to people with whom you've lost touch. I gathered quite a network of unique and talented souls when I went searching for fellow Shriekback fans in the hope of rallying a revival of the band. That goal was met and produced some wonderful friendships, inspired creations by fans, and surreal encounters (like my visit with B in 2006). There's nothing I love more than to be an active part of a group of souls coming together for a common purpose and, as a result, Making Things Happen. Yes, that's capitalised for a reason. It's that important. And it always thrills me when souls that may have drifted apart, find their way back to one another. Now, if only Me'Shel'le would emerge from her hidey-hole...
I'm about 1/3 of the way through another Date story, this one called "The Artist's Date," and is a sort of 'thank you basket' to luvthyjoker for the lovely art she's so far contributed to The Vampire Relics. It's your typical Joker Date Night tale with the 3 rules to be followed strictly: 1) A Heath Ledger Reference, 2) An original scar story, and 3) the Date dies. There were a few special requests for this particular date since it is, after all, luvthyjoker's date. She's a horror nut and is truly looking forward to being murdered by J. This is not to say I want her dead in any way, shape, or form, but her wish is my command and J's absolute pleasure. Not sure where this will fit in the chronology, but Sidney's alive, so it's definitely after "The Nun's Date," where he was introduced. I'm not sure if I ever mentioned that Sidney is based entirely upon Sidney Poitier, who starred in Lilies of the Field. That was my paternal grandmother, Granny's all-time favourite film and, since it has to do with nun's it just made sense to me to connect this movie with "The Nun's Date" and introduce a little grounding energy to Joker's madcap existence. And I'm probably going to hell for making such a connection. Yet another reason I should be preparing my handbasket now. I'm truly racking up the Hell points these days...trust me.
After I finish "The Artist's Date," I'm making a bit of a departure in J-fic Land and am going to try my hand at writing Joker as a woman. Why? Well, it's another "thank you basket," this time to acook, who did a fantastic reading of a portion of "The Sainted Confessor." Over time, she's been creating a costume tailored just for her and her version of Joker. No, she's not dressing as Joker or as a girl trying to be Joker. No no no, it's not that simple. No. acook has defined herself as Joker, had Joker been female all along. acook is Femme Joker. That said, I'm going to attempt a fic based on that concept. I have no idea what it's going to be like and it will mean introducing yet another J into my already crowded head, but I think it'll be worth it. To give an idea of what Femme Joker is all about, I present this snappy little video. Prepare to get your Romany on.
While we're talking J-fic, I want to scream from the hilltops that the third chapter of The Endgame is available for reading. I can't stress enough how you really should be reading this fiction. It only gets better with each subsequent chapter, so you're destined to be hooked and happy for it. Here's the link to the third chapter, entitled Epiphany. paisleydaze is truly a rare talent in writing and her ability to bring life to her characters, even those who aren't originally hers, is uncanny. When I read her Joker, I can hear him in my head. I love it when that happens and, therefore, I love Soph's story. You should read it, I'm telling you. It's not just good Joker fanfiction, it's good fiction period. And I need to finish my picture of Claire that I began ages ago. Like I said...not enough hours in the day for everything I want and need to do. But it'll happen, every...last...bit... Or heads will roll. And that'll be fun too.
I'm surrounded by talented people for the most part. Some who think they have me surrounded also think they're talented. They should think better of it. But that's another rant for another day. For now, I'm just gonna sit here and be grateful for talented friends who allow me to tag along.
I think that certainly should be enough from me. At least for now. I'm around these parts, just lurking, watching and observing. I'd never desert you guys...unless offered plenty of money. Hee! I'm gonna try to doze a little now. Then it's back up to write some more. It's 33 degrees here right now. Unprecedented.
( behold this amazing art )
She even got the double fang marks on Faust's neck. Cadmus has double fangs, being of Dragon blood as well. Everything about this picture is perfect. I feel so honoured and humbled that someone would be inspired enough by something I wrote to do this.
I think it might be time for another icon.
( the prophecies )
Thank again to booraven22 for the moleskin journal. You are a beautiful soul!
I have to take Aunt Tudi to the doctor today and I'm taking the notebook along with me. The distraction of the Internet and the things I feel compelled to look into whilst on are not an issue when I'm away from it and can focus just on my writing. That said, I may unhook the whole megillah at night when the lack of phone won't be an issue, and write as if the Devil is chewing on my my neck. That might not be the best analogy.
There's been a great deal on my mind of late. I've had some very conflicted issues arise in my psyche and my spirit, which is usually par for the course this time of year. It leads up to my birthday which most often results in some sort of monumental suckage the likes of which the world hasn't seen seen the appearance of the salt monster on Start Trek: The Original Series. I sometimes feel like I really have no one to talk to about such matters because I'm either misunderstood, ignored, or summarily dismissed. Right now, I feel like there's no safe place for me to truly "vent my spleen" as 't'were, and I feel the pressure building within me. This has happened to me a couple of times in the past and it's resulted in a complete rearrangement of my life and some figurative bodies left in the wake of the explosion.
I'm uploading and captioning photos to Facebook because it's easy to do, and my Photobucket account is currently over limit. I'm limiting each album to 25 photos per. I think it's easier to see the pictures that way. Here's what I have so far.
Various and Sundry, pt. 1
Various and Sundry, pt. 2
Right now that's all I have on any front, other than that I'm about to compose a letter to Eliza Gilkyson, who responded to a letter I wrote her on MySpace. And then I need to get ready for the road. After I get back, I need to create another sound test for the HG World sound guy. I'm two days too late on that, thanks to my furious writing activities. I need to take the time to do that, 'cos I really want to be involved with this, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is it's just fun as can be!
( Cadmus tells Orphaeus a story )
Intro lyrics for the chapter: I am in love with nothing less. Tear drop of joy runs off my face. I will rise from someone that’s afraid to love. If you know what I fee, then you couldn’t be so sure. I’ll be right here, lying in the hands of God. ~ Dave Matthews Band “Lying in the Hands of God”
I really really really need a Faust icon, dammit.
( the sounds of the sainted confessor )
BASIC OUTLINE OF THE PLOT OF THE
SECOND INSTALLMENT OF THE VAMPIRE RELICS.
Basic plot: Cadmus Pariah and Orphaeus Cygnus grudgingly team up to take a Vampire Relic called the Blood Crown away from the Apostate, who is hidden in the catacombs beneath the Vatican. But they need the secrets of ancient Tarmian history and natural magick on their side in order to ever hope for success.
· Sets the tone of the story
The Veiled Sanctuary
· Cadmus comes to visit his mother Kelat in her hidden home in Jerusalem. He tells her of a Vampire Relic called the Blood Crown and how he intends to reclaim it from the Apostate.
Mother of Memory
· Kelat joins minds with Cadmus to show him the Ancient Alien Elfin Days of Tarmian Earth and how the first warnings of a human student of the Tarmian Magickal Arts had gone rogue and was threatening everything the Tarmi had worked for with their human charges. The story of Pretani Kelat’Menan, Kelat’s mother is told.
The Dragon and the Swan
· Kelat reveals that Cadmus is to travel to Rome with his most despised Nemesis Orphaeus Cygnus. A battle of Wills ensues until Orphaeus arrives at the Veiled Sanctuary, where plans begin to unfold.
The Tale of Mary Magdalene
· Needing to get their personal affairs in order, Cadmus and Orphaeus first travel to the West Country of England to deal with Cadmus devotee and former band mate in Magnificat, Mary Magdalene. We learn about her history, how she came to be devoted to and fall in love with Cadmus, and what Cadmus does to rectify the situation.
(chapter driven by ‘Blood of Eden’ by Peter Gabriel)
( more )
But Cadmus had heard of Faust’s proclivity for being a font of secrets and took it upon himself to find out what he could about the Apostate while he could, perhaps for future use. What ensues when the seducer becomes seduced himself, and the confessor finds himself in a confessional from which there is no escape is one of the most horrific tales known in Vampire history.
· Orphaeus and Cadmus make their way to Orphaeus’ musical theatre and part-time home in San Francisco so that Orphaeus can get his affairs in order. Cadmus finally meets Orphaeus’ Tribe: Genevieve, Hercules, Lolita, and the eternally strange Persephone. While there Orphaeus and Cadmus collaborate on a musical performance to see how well their psychic influence on others can be combined. This chapter will focus mainly on how the performer can pull the audience in and take over the Will of a group mentality.
The Joker Blogs
So now I continue with the rest of the outline and await the heart-stopping moment when I see his name in my inbox. After almost a decade, it still just makes my nerves wiggle to see a letter from B waiting to be clicked. And he's really a sweet soul. He's Tribe. He's like the Soul of Creativity in my world. He's the father to the dreadful beast that dwells within my head and bathes in the blood of his own kind. But, other than that, Barry is a fantastic, lovely person with an uncanny power about him. I'm rambling.