tinhuviel: (Augury)

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.

tinhuviel: (Cadmus Art)
[livejournal.com profile] acook finished the cover for the third and final installment of The Vampire Relics. I am astounded by it, and in awe of her talent. I'm cutting it because the file is rather large.

Click to behold the wonder! )
tinhuviel: (Shriekback Logo)
I find it hilarious that 90% of the Shriekback pictures used in most You Tube videos and online articles are pics I uploaded to the SDC site in 2000-2001 from all those magazines I got off eBay. I'm not complaining. Lord knows, All Things Shriek need to be proliferated with abandon. The images never belonged to me; I just scanned them. They belong first to Shriekback, then to everyone else. If more videos are made for the Shrieks using the pics, I say "good on ya mate!"

The world needs to hear their music and, if the pictures help you get that music to the masses, then I am all for it. Then again, I'm all for anyone reposting those pics since the Shriekback Digital Conspiracy no longer exists and I have not yet gotten permission to archive everything on another website. Something needs to be done!

In other news, since I have gotten a new computer and a couple of new Roth movies, the Tim Roth Tutorials are back in almost full swing. I need to get another month's worth of Plus account on Vimeo before I can upload anything there, because uploading without a Plus account takes 4582430975234098520394 hours. I'll at least be posting the You Tube versions here for now, so stay tuned.

I got a call from what sounded, for all intents and purposes, like Indrid Cold. It went to voice mail. I can't make out what the person is saying. It has scared me. So I will be taking one of my new sleep meds tonight since, if I don't, I know I won't be sleeping. That said, if I start making gobbledegook posts later one, please email me or comment to stop me dumb ass.

Jem just came on my iTunes, a song called "And I Pray." It's one of the songs that helped drive the Sainted Confessor "mini-novel." Faust was a very devout Christian Vampire. His main defense against what Cadmus Pariah was doing to him was to pray. Here are the lyrics.

And So I Pray by Jem
Storm is brewing in the air tonight
So many pressures on my mind
Want to escape just wanna run away
But it's not an option I have to stay

And so I pray
I wish that all these things would go away
To disappear if only for a day
Know I can't go but I don't wanna stay

Can't believe the irony
The thing I wanted is killing me
All the happy smiles I miss
Didn't think it would be like this

And I pray
I wish that all these things would go away
To disappear if only for a day
Know I can't go but I don't wanna stay

Storm is brewing in the air tonight
So many pressures on my mind
Want to escape just wanna run away
But it's not an option I have to stay

And so I pray
I wish that all these things would go away
To disappear if only for a day
Know I can't go but I don't wanna stay
To be left alone if only for a day
I wish that all these things would go away (pray to you I hope it will be alright)
To be someone else if only for a day (and over soon, I feel it)
Know I can't go but I don't wanna stay (hope that you hear me)
tinhuviel: (Faust)
This isn't always the way it happens, but this is one good example.

Earlier today while I was coming home from dropping off Diane after she'd helped me empty the ION of all my personal belongings, Froderick played "Now We Are Free" by Hans Zimmer and Lisa Gerrard. This was one of the songs I listened to almost constantly when I was writing "The Sainted Confessor." Actually, the three driving songs during that dark period were this one, DMB's "Lying in the Hands of God," and "Veridis Quo" by Daft Punk. Well, honourable mention has to go to Cyndi Lauper's "True Colours" and "Sister Rosetta Goes Before Us" by Robert Plant and Alison Krauss. But I digress.

One night while I was writing on Sainted, working on The Joker Blogs site, and chatting with Megs and [livejournal.com profile] gunslingaaahhh, I figured I would pop on to You Tube and see if I could find a decent video that used "Now We Are Free" to share with the girls. If memory serves, they one or both of them weren't entirely sure what song I was talking about, and I needed for them to be with me on what I was "seeing" with my ears since they were both being my psychotherapists for while I wrote Sainted. Yeah, it was that disturbing for me, especially since the character Cadmus was ripping up every night had been anchored to someone I actually knew and called friend. Anyway, I was trawling through You Tube, searching under the song title and came across this video (yes, I favourited it then, that's why I could so easily find it now).

Seeing James McAvoy's face accompanied with that music instantaneously solidified the mortal side of Faust and fleshed him out as Kallum McCreary. And it did something never before done in my world, having given essentially one character two different anchors. Even though Scott anchored to the Vampiric Faust, and James McAvoy anchored to the mortal Kallum, they are essentially anchoring aspects of the same character.

But that's how it happens, more often than not, the anchoring of a character. It's an accident and it's almost always an irreversible instance.
tinhuviel: (Faust)
30 Day Meme )

28. Have you ever written a character with physical or mental disabilities? Describe them, and if there's nothing major to speak of, tell us a few smaller ones..

Not really. There was a section of Faust's account where he helped a member of the Tribe of the Tomb. Here it is for your perusal.

Faust was only two years into his new Vampiric existence, so he was still learning what it all meant. He knew very little about the Tribe of the Tomb, so he was surprised when the emaciated woman asked Faust for money.

Reaching into his trouser pockets, Faust found a few coins and handed them to the Vampire woman, who kissed his hands in thanks. Faust knelt before her and gazed into her eyes.

“What is your name, ma’am?”

“I…” The Vampire woman cast down her eyes out of shyness or shame, he knew not which, maybe neither, he never found out. On impulse, the young vampire reached out and cupped the vagrant’s dirty face in his other hand, staring into her faded eyes with his own blazing gaze. Her face brightened a little and he could feel her tremble under his touch. “I am Constance.”

“That’s a very pretty name Constance. Tell me… Why do you need money? You are a Vampire. We really have no need for it, you know. Do you?”

Constance nodded. “He won’t just give it to me anymore.”


“The butcher… And I am not fast enough to capture animals for myself,” she said, looking down at her legs.

Faust followed her eyes to see legs three sizes too small. Polio. And the Blood had not repaired in the way it would normally have others. He didn’t understand, but he ached for this wounded Vampire. “So you’ve been taking blood from the local abbatoir?”

“Yes, but he says I must pay. Times are tough all over. Everywhere, that’s what they say. Times….are tough all over.”
Tears welled up in Faust’s mosaic eyes. “Come with me. It’s okay, you can trust me. Come.”

He helped the vagrant up and took her home. She was too weak even to pierce his throat with her almost spongy veins. Faust ended up biting his own wrist and offering it to her. She drank meekly and gratefully, and he let her take her fill, even though it was beginning to drain him to the point of starvation himself.

30 Day Meme

Sep. 3rd, 2010 09:15 am
tinhuviel: (Faust)
30 Day Meme )

19. Favorite minor that decided to shove himself into the spotlight and why!

Oh that would have to be Faust! When I first thought Faust up in the early 90s, he was a Vampire who enjoyed the Disco culture in late 70s. I just wanted a Disco Vampire, to be honest. He was never part of the story until I mentioned him as being an unfortunate victim of Cadmus Pariah. When I began work on The Blood Crown, the first thing I wrote was "The Sainted Confessor", during which Faust exploded onto the scene. Once I had him anchored, Faust became a three dimensional soul and trumped even Cadmus during the section of this book. I wrote over 30,000 words, all Faust-centric, in the course of a month and Faust is one of the main characters in the next book, The Augury of Gideon, as the mortal Kallum McCreary. Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker, who drew Faust during the time I was writing "The Sainted Confessor," Faust became a real person to me. I've had several people who read "The Sainted Confessor" to agree with me that Faust was a very real entity. It was strange to have this bit of character drabble monopolise the story in which he dwelt. I have more respect for all my characters now, both the vague and detailed, because I realise now that, at any time, a character can demand more attention than initially I thought it needed.
tinhuviel: (Faust)
How I missed this song for this long is inexplicable.

BABY BLUE by Dave Matthews Band
Confess, your kiss still knocks me off my legs.
The first time I saw you was like a punch right through my chest
and I will forever, 'cause you'll forever be
my one true broken heart, pieces inside of me and you'll forever, my baby be.

You will rest your head, your strength once saving.
And when you wake you will fly away,
holding tight to the legs of all your angels.
Goodbye my love, into your blue, blue eyes,
your blue, blue world, you're my baby blue.

Confess I'm not quite ready to be left.
Still, I know I gave my level best.
You give, you give, to this I can attest
You made me, you made me.
You and me forever, baby.

You will rest your head, your strength once saving.
And when you wake you will fly away,
holding tight to the legs of all your angels.
Goodbye my love, into your blue, blue eyes,
in your blue, blue world, you and me forever.

You will rest your head, your strength once saving.
And when you wake you will fly away,
holding tight to the legs of all your angels.
Goodbye my love, into your blue, blue eyes,
in your blue, blue world, you and me forever.
tinhuviel: (Faust)
I have read almost 80 pages of The Blood Crown and am now entering into "The Sainted Confessor." I had no fun writing it. I had no fun reading it the first two times. I'm having no fun reading it the third time around. It does strike me that that the term Bohemianism is used on numerous occasions. That made me laugh because, this time, the chicken truly did become before the hipster egg.


Jun. 3rd, 2010 11:29 am
tinhuviel: (Cadmus and Faust)
The man I want to play Cadmus, Tom Hardy, played a young Jean-Luc Picard, a role originated by Patrick Stewart.

The man I want to play Kallum (the one Cadmus tortured and an increasingly important character in the story), James McAvoy, is set to play a young Dr. Charles Xavier, a role originated by Patrick Stewart.

After I get over suffering from the layers of weirdness that this information caused, I'll get back to writing. Only 1000 words to go for goal!


May. 29th, 2010 07:59 pm
tinhuviel: (Have a Nice Day)
The names of the chapters so far in The Augury of Gideon.

  • The Haunted Angel

  • The Shroud and the Jewel

  • The Dhampir

  • The Dreams of Madness

  • Remembrance

  • The Persistent Spirit

  • Kids These Days

The binding theme to all of these is that the spirit of Faust moves through the narrative. My revelation the other night was that he would be the one to bring the players to the field and they would be the ones to resurrect him as Kallum McCreary.

My word count for the day 3047. Total word count for Augury is currently 14627.
I am obsessed.
tinhuviel: (Faust)
Long before I ever write anything solid regarding the resurrection of Faust as Kallum McCreary, I'm trying to get the perfect picture of him in my mind, how he will behave toward those who brought him back and make him crave the Blood, and especially how he'll handle working closely with Cadmus in retrieving the Augury of Gideon. The song that seems to be working for me right now is "Come Tenderness' by Lisa Gerrard. Kallum will have the memories not only of his extended murder as Faust, but also as the Sainted Confessor, brought to his singular heaven by his angel Roesetta, who also allowed him to see the Face of God, the one thing Faust wanted above all.

All this bit on Cadmus is far far down the road. I'm looking forward to November to hopefully get the gumption to finish The Blood Crown and continue work on The Augury of Gideon. In the meantime, my focus on Kallum will continue to develop so that, when I'm ready to write him the way he wants me to write him, everything shall be in place. In the meantime, here's pictorial progress on the character first known as Faust and later called by his peers Kallum the Confessor. Enjoy!**

cut for mucho pictorial content )

**Thanks go out to James McAvoy and Scott for helping to anchor Kallum/Faust down and flesh him out in the strangest and most unusual ways.
tinhuviel: (Faust)
The Augury of Gideon begins with Kallum McCreary, which should make [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker very happy indeed.


Sometimes we’re only the action figures of ourselves. This is the sort of thing you couldn’t make up. Banality is the camouflage that God wears to walk unseen. It’s a very funny dream, sometimes we wake up. ~ Stic Basin “Downthere”

Fascination is what drew him to the incorruptible body in which his endless spirit had once resided. No sign of the Pariah’s vicious intrusion upon his physical person could be seen and he was just as young and vibrant-looking as the day Rebekah and Mephistopheles paid him the bloody visit that forever altered the course of Kallum’s life. In this stasis, the body of the Vampire once called Faust, rest in perfect repose, his bare-opened eyes the only indication of his death, being dried by the dust that buried him several feet below the new building that had long replaced his old apartment domicile. It was still a haven for the artistic folk who so preferred SoHo, but there was no indication whatsoever that these painters, singers, composers, actors, and comedians spent their evenings treading the ground where a saint rested waiting.

For what was he waiting? Rosetta, his angel who had embraced his spirit during the worst moments of his misery at Cadmus’ hands, never revealed to him what that might be. He cherished every moment of paradise afforded him, but he was still drawn to the place of his death and very much enthralled with the body that carried Kallum in mortal form and then as Faust.

Indeed Kallum, mortated from the young Vampire Faust was whisked away from the mundane world which had become an immortal hell for him had beheld the face of God and had been told that, someday, Kallum would be asked to return to this Vale of Tears to bring about a sort of redemption for those seemingly incapable of such a spiritual miracle.

His paradise was his alone and indescribable in even the simplest of terms. Heaven was indeed a unique experience for each soul and was incapable of spoken explanation not only to living beings, but also to disembodied souls. When he left his special place of bliss, Kallum longed momentously for his presence in that sacred space, but he was equally as compelled to return to the place of his murder and ponder the words of Rosetta and the nature of his destiny.
Kallum studied his wan face as encased solidly in packed Earth, forgotten rubbish, and seemingly impenetrable concrete. Above his resting place was a four-story building comprised for twenty-four fairly sized, poorly built apartments, all in which resided struggling artists of every race, creed, and colour. The only thing that had changed was the building and its owners.

Sensing that he was no longer alone in the etherealness of his sainted existence, Kallum sent forth waves of unconditional love for angel. “Rosetta, why is it you are here?”

“My dearest sainted confessor, I come to drench you with the blessedness of respite and pure love only the Creator can bestow upon the children of the universe. Your time is nigh, Saint Kallum, to redeem all that the Apostate has twisted in his unnaturally long and miserable life. You come here more and more often, I have seen you.”

“I am compelled, even though I’ve never known the joy and contentment that the afterlife has to offer.”

“You know in your heart, dear Kallum, that no afterlife will be wholly complete when the existence in this plane has been so warped in a way never intended. This realm is one of mortal understanding. The walking dead is an aberrant that only you, Kallum, can help to rectify, to redeem. Touched by the Gideon’s divine madness, only you can complete his song and reveal to the immortal cursed what it is they must do to end the wretched blight cast upon the teachers so very long ago. Your presence will set things aright and, once you’ve achieved this miracle, your heaven will complete and eternal.”
Kallum thought back upon his last days on Earth, bound by a variety of geasa and tortured in ways that would immediately have killed a mortal, he felt that all-too-well-known dread boil up in the pit of his spiritual throat.

“Rosetta, I will not have to be near…him…will I?”

“Kallum…” Rosetta said softly, wrapping her rainbow arms around the indigo-eyed saint. “Cadmus Pariah is why you must go back.”
Kallum’s dread manifested in diamond teardrops that fell to the pavement below becoming tiny quartz crystals picked up by the delighted passersby.
tinhuviel: (Faust)
From The Blood Crown.

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.
tinhuviel: (Faust)
The oddest thing is driving me to finish The Blood Crown: The Augury of Gideon, specifically the character of Kallum McCreary, the mortal incarnation of the Vampire Faust. I'm about to get to "The Sainted Confessor" section of The Blood Crown. Despite falling victim to Dengue and not hardly writing at all for the past three days, I'm still current on my word count with The Blood Crown. I even have added some of the cushion that allowed me to fall deathly ill and not suffer stress from being behind on NaNo. In the past two hours, I wrote over 1700 words. It's like I was possessed. Then again, I was writing Cadmus. I was actually writing as Cadmus, so I was kind of possessed.

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?
tinhuviel: (Faust)
If you write, you know how a character or a story just won't let you alone until you do something about it? Once you succumb to it, then it eases off you, at least for a little while. Well, this is how Faust/Kallum has been treating me ever since I finished "The Sainted Confessor:" BADLY. That said, I'd written this blurb, which will actually belong to the third book, The Augury of Gideon if I ever get The Blood Crown written. The Summoning Chant Cadmus uses is based on "The Incantation to the Land of Ireland" by Amergin, whose song laying claim to Ireland is re-envisioned as "The Gin-Soaked Boy" by The Divine Comedy, which is Faust/Kallum's theme song. Convoluted much? Whatever. Here's the Awakening. Now I can get back to "The Artist's Date" for [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker.

“Are you sure this is the location?” Orphaeus crossed his arms and tapped his left foot impatiently.

Cadmus looked up at his arch-nemesis slowly. Why again was he saddled with this waste of immortality? All he needed to do was exhume the body of the Sainted Confessor and see what it was about the incorruptible body that would lead him in the direction of the Augury of Gideon. The prophecies hadn’t been clear to him at the time Faust had told him, but it was pretty obvious now. Compelled ye shall be to bring him forth from the belly of the Spirit of Creation….he waits! Pools of indigo will carry you Home. Redemption in the song that goes before us. That one and he’d collected another over time: In the dust shall you find the ruby, the untouchable jewel sublime. Fierce with arcane knowledge, the Dove will cleave wisdom to that of the Dragon and the Swan. Prophecy shall come alive in the human heart.

I'm the ruby in the dust, I'm the trust in the mistrust )
tinhuviel: (Faust)




“What has happened to you?

The clear, clipped accent of Cadmus awoke Faust, who opened his mosaic eyes and breathed the air as a mortal for the first time in decades. He had forgotten how truly wonderful it was to walk the Earth in uncertainty and hope, wondering if your life would be snuffed out at any moment, yet carrying on with a force of Will surely driven by that Divine Spark that dwelt within everyone, if you could only find it.

“Me?” the man said, his voice drenched with mockery. Me?”

“You…you are different.” Cadmus bent down and inhaled Faust’s breath, then backed away in a kind of disgust. “How can this be? You are…human.”

“Mortation?” the young moppet offered, smiling merrily.

“Mortation is a myth. It cannot be achieved…You are what you are.”

“Yet here I am, you bat-clad Abomination. Here I am.”

Cadmus frowned, his vast black eyes studying the healed and naked form on the ruined bed before him. Faust was mortal again. The Blood, if given to him in any quantity would kill him and a sip would only serve to addict him to the chalice. Cadmus could not vivisect the youngling without killing him. The boy was of no use to him. He looked down at the chalice of Blood, taken from another child running wild and free in the streets of Brooklyn. He’d brought it to fortify the Vampire before ripping into him again and bathing in the agony and Blood.

How had he done it? How had he achieved the impossible? Mortation…no Vampire had ever achieved mortation. It was a myth brought about by rumours and scattered prophecies said to be found in the Augury of Gideon. It was all rubbish to Cadmus, who believed nothing but the reality before him.

But that reality right now was a Vampire turned mortal.

“How did you do it, Faust?”

“Don’t call me Faust, Cadmus. I am Kallum again. After all these years, I am Kallum.”

How did you do it?

“I…had…faith.” Kallum said slowly, deliberately, and with not a small about of contempt for Cadmus.

incorruptible )
A note about Faust's mortal name: being of pale blue Scottish blood myself, I have a certain fondness for All Things Scottish. Early on in the story, it was pretty much determined in my mind that Faust would be of mortal Scottish descent, thanks to his secondary anchor James McAvoy. At first the name was just Kal, but I changed it Kallum, because the name is the Scottish variant of the name Calum:
Variant spelling of Calum, the Scottish Gaelic form of the Late Latin personal name Columba ‘dove’. This was popular among early Christians because the dove was a symbol of gentleness, purity, peace, and the Holy Spirit. St Columba was one of the most influential of all the early Celtic saints. He was born in Donegal in 521 into a noble family, and was trained for the priesthood from early in life. He founded monastery schools at Durrow, Derry, and Kells, and then, in 563, sailed with twelve companions to Scotland, to convert the people there to Christianity. He established a monastery on the island of Iona, and from there converted the Pictish and Irish inhabitants of Scotland. He died in 597 and was buried at Downpatrick. The name has recently enjoyed considerable popularity throughout the English-speaking world.

His last name, McCreary, is a nod to the extremely talented composer, Bear McCreary, who is prone to wearing a Triquetra pendant he picked up at the Highland games in Washington State.

So that's just to say that, over the course of this composition, Faust became an amalgamation of souls and heritage, not to mention a vessel into which I poured a good bit of my own soul. I guess what I'm saying is that he's become like Cadmus Pariah, indefinable in a way and, therefore, a sentient being unto himself.

And, no, we haven't seen the last of Kallum McCreary.
tinhuviel: (Cadmus and Faust)
This is undoubtedly the worst of the torture and agony. If you're faint of heart, I suggest you do not read.

Steps came in the dark and Faust felt the panic begin to rise in him until the Angel sank down into his body as she was wont to do. A kind of peace followed, so Faust waited and listened to Cadmus as he crawled upon the bed and set to changing the bulbs. The room was suddenly and shockingly awash in bright light again, and there stood Cadmus on the bed, looking down at Faust, that almost-smug expression on his face.

“No more keening, now, young man. I only bought enough bulbs for two more sessions with you and I shall be very displeased to have to expose myself to herds again just because you couldn’t keep yourself under control. Screaming is fine. I expect that and welcome the sound. Moaning, gibbering, shouting – all well and good. But no more Vampiric keening or I’ll give you something about which to truly keen. Are we clear, Confessor Faust?”

Faust just stared at Cadmus, his cerulean eyes exuding an unusually peaceful reproach compared to how Cadmus had left the Vampire. Cadmus cocked his head at his young captive, then shrugged before jumping easily to the floor.

He reached around the back of the side table, then he turned back to Faust. In his wan, spidery hands Cadmus held a mask that looked as though it were made of a kind of Plaster of Paris. One of Faust’s artist friends would have been able to tell him in happier days. Like every knife and like the chalice, Cadmus held the mask out to Faust in a ritual of presentation. “Do you see this mask?”

Faust slowly blinked his eyes in weary acknowledgment.

“Since we’ve spent our Summer together having such a lovely time in one another’s company,” Cadmus said, he voice imitating someone being sarcastic or ironic…or maybe both. “I was reminded by your poor example that it was time for me to remake myself. We need to do it every few decades and, as far as I can tell, you haven’t done it since you were transformed. Your idiosyncratic inflections and outmoded slang, not to mention your moth-eaten thrift-store Chaplinesque fashion choices, scream that something is amiss with you. Now…you may be Out, as they say these days about anyone who has had, by necessity, to remained cloaked to society, and people may accept you for who and…what you are, but not all of us care to take that route, especially someone like me. So your failing to redefine yourself reminded me that it has been way too long since I did so myself. This mask is the key to my doing so and you, my little sacrificial lamb, are going to help me baptize it and me into my new life.”

the baptismal font and the face of god )

tinhuviel: (Cadmus and Faust)

Ten minutes of heavy silence past between the two Vampires. One sat calmly on the floor at the bedside, just out of reach of the other, who sat up for the first time in well over a month, propped on his elbow. Faust’s fingers flexed as though hungry to slip around Cadmus’ throat and throttle him, freely and clearly. The priestly Vampire was so near to him, yet not close enough…just enough to taunt, to mock.

The transformed Blood of the children coursed through Faust like a bolt of divine lightning. The elation he felt as a result of it was tempered only by his guilt over having ever drunk the Blood to begin with. But he had not known. He’d never known the victims who fed the chalice prior to Cadmus’ arrival and subsequent revival of Faust and honestly, until now, Faust had never given it any consideration. His hunger had always been too dire to allow Faust the luxury of such concern. Seeing the bodies of children littered about his bedroom floor forced Faust to rethink the time he’d been forced to spend with Cadmus since mid-June. As his agitation waned into a more meditative state, Faust’s fingers slowed their flurry of motion, giving way to a slower rhythm. He sought out any presence of the Angel, but found none, so Faust contented himself to pray for those whose lives were lost to the chalice so that he might exist for a just a while longer. Especially the children, however many there were besides the little babes that lay like broken toys before him now. He prayed for their parents, who would be devastated at the loss of their own, wondering what happened to their tiny tots and never knowing.

What would be worse, Faust wondered; knowing your child was dead and having to bury your own baby or never knowing for certain what had happened to the child and succumbing to the worst a human’s subconscious could conjure forth in the dark silence of the night?

Faust could not answer that question, never having had children of his own. All he could do was pray for the parents of these children before him even as his body rumbled and buzzed from a pure Blood high. The fingers of his one free hand opened and closed to the inner rhythm of his prayer.

The Litany of Confessions )

tinhuviel: (Cadmus and Faust)

“Oh God…” Faust said, licking his lips absently and tasting the Ambrosial Blood there again, which sent him into a fit of rapture for a few seconds. He got caught up in it and lapped at his mouth hungrily, taking everything he could into himself, including the now-encrusted Blood grin Cadmus had painted on his face. He couldn’t reach the outer edges, but he rubbed the flecks upon his shoulders, then licked his shoulders. Anything, anything to get the Blood into his system. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew he would be, and the very thought of it frightened him in the deepest core of his spirit.

“Oh God…” He said again, closing his eyes. He kept them closed for several minutes, breathing as deeply as he could, trying to calm his suffering and his jangled nerves. Cadmus’ filthy mouth had healed the wound that he’d opened up in the superficial dorsal vein, but the other wounds, long down the length of Faust’s limbs, were on fire.

Faust thought back to his Gideon’s Litany and then remembered one tiny bit he’d left out. It had been in the Litany the entire time, but he didn’t share it with Cadmus. There had been this one brief moment…

“I want to show you something. I’ve been working on it for a while. Everything I have in here,” and Gideon pointed to his greasy blonde head. “Will be in here.”

And Gideon opened up his dirty paw of a hand to reveal a tiny ruby or garnet.

“How does that work?”

“Taaarrmiaaan Magick!” Gideon laughed. “I can’t explain it to you. It’s an encoding, I guess you could say. Everything, everything, everything is in the genetic code. Memory is cellular. That makes no sense to you, does it? You really need to get that noggin of yours out of the 20’s and here in the 40’s. Things will start to change in a few years and you’ll need to be ready if you’ll ever survive past the 70’s.”

That last bit actually made Faust laugh ruefully because he hadn’t taken the advice of the mad man and now it appeared as if he would not actually see 1980. Maybe Gideon had been a prophet after all.

The laugh was cut off suddenly as Faust wondered if Cadmus would realise he’d withheld information. Faust began to panic and that panic made his pain increase it seemed a thousandfold.

“OH GOD!” Faust screamed and he threw his head forward, his hair flopping down into his face. His eyes shot open wide from the agony only to be peering into a pair of wide-set eyes.


“Are you – Are you real?”

We are what you need for us to be. You need to ease your mind and heart. We have heard you.

“Are you God?”

No. We are Angels of that Spirit. We have heard you now be at peace.”

“Please help me. Help me free of this. Heal me. Set me free. Please, I’ll do anything.”

We haven’t the power to do work in that way, young one. But know that we are always beside your or above you or…within you. You have been chosen. The finger of what you call the Spirit of God rests upon your brow. There are only two who are Blessed amongst the Accursed spirits of your clans. You are one of them. Take heart in that.

“Did I do all right? Did I call out my greatest desire when I was suffering my worst?”

‘Twas a test, it was. You have proven yourself to be steadfast in your desire, even when you are at your deepest depths of hopelessness. So special are you, dear Faust. We love thee with a great and furious love.

And the Angel kissed Faust on the lips before she sank into him. This time he felt her, felt her warmth flow throughout him and, for just a few minutes, Faust’s pain was eased.

The Blood of Innocence )

tinhuviel: (Cadmus and Faust)
More of the unedited, unproofed, raw version of what's now an entire section of The Blood Crown and has been broken down into chapters. [livejournal.com profile] gunslingaaahhhis editing the entire manuscript as I'm writing this but, lucky you, you get the crappy version! HAHAHAHA!

A continuation from here.

Cadmus waited for Faust to recover from the Blood Rapture, then sat there watching the young, freshly-plumped Vampire breathe easily and happily. The Blood on his lips began to dry and he licked at them absently, tasting the sweetness there. Then he looked at Cadmus looking at him and the smile faded.


Cadmus inclined his head as though proud of the label.

“Gideon mentions an abomination in some of the…gibberish…he said to me. Do you think he was talking about you? Are you important enough to be in his prophecies?”

Cadmus smiled that shark smile that never reached his eyes. “I’m important enough to be in every prophecy the madman ever uttered, you ignorant little git. Now…are you ready to tell me what he said to you? Everything? To the last…little…word?”

“Yes…” Faust glared at Cadmus for a moment, his eyebrows almost meeting in the middle of his head. The glare lasted for quite a few moments and Cadmus accepted it with no emotional reaction whatsoever. Faust’s glare had no effect on him. His disapproval meant nothing. All that mattered right now were the prophecies nestled in that young little moppet head of his.

“Please proceed then,” Cadmus replied, his voice as gracious as he could muster.
the becoming of Gideon )


Faust closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it through puffed cheeks. He took another and cleared his throat with the extra air, the clearing was almost like a growl. When he opened his eyes, they were no longer his. There was a hint of madness gleaming in the eternal blue gazing at Cadmus.

“Coffee…it’s a gift from the Mighties you know, lad,” Faust said, he voice at least an octave lower than his own. Cadmus was beholding Gideon resurrected within the body of this young Darkling. He searched for the philosophical apex closest to awe, found it in his well of souls, and proceeded to explore it as he watched this boy transform further into a dead mad man. Faust slowly cocked his head to the right, his ear almost touching his shoulder, his hair absolutely reaching it. “I love my coffee. You are a delight to watch, young’un, a real darby, you are! Niftic! Sanguinem mittat let the Blood be sent forth inscribed upon the sacrificed. So how long you been doing that act of yours? Seems like you’re a natural, and that’s good…. Good…. His destiny is mortation and the sanctification of flesh. Immortality in death shall be his repose, sainted in suffering. Blessed in the bliss of dread and dissolution, this vessel of secrets, this child of wisdom. Utterances of crowns rest upon his lips. Compelled ye shall be to bring him forth from the belly of the Spirit of Creation….he waits! Pools of indigo will carry you Home. Redemption in the song that goes before us…”

“Uhm, what?” Faust said in his own voice, looking out at nothing. He was actually conversing with the entity that seemed to have inhabited him. Was this even possible? Vampire memories didn’t work like this. Of course…this Vampire was a performer and a good one it appeared. He’d been doing this for decades. Cadmus caressed his apex of awe just a little more so that he might actually feel it.

“Sorry, son. I get a little off-topic. Name’s Gideon. I’m one of the Original Ten, if you know what that means. I’ve been here for…well, it seems like forever! And it shall come to pass that an abomination be born out of a forbidden union unknown even to the Regency by way of profane alchemies wrought by the Magus of our doom. It shall stir in the belly of a she-Wyrm, feeding on her form from within and taking her very nature into it until the dark night of its rising. Coffee…there’s nothing like it. Caffeine gets to me, though. It’s my Tarmian Blood, I guess. We Tarmi were a delicate bunch when it came to the natural stimulants and depressants of this planet. We felt everything tenfold. We did. We..we… the desert shakes with the footsteps of the Jinn, ascending for the perishing sun, owl and serpent alike…. And you, you are a real treasure. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed your show. You should be in those moving pictures…if you’d show up.”

“I’m not certain what you’re talking about, sir… Can I help you? You seem a little… I dunno. You seem to have a case of the heebie-jeebies. Maybe coffee isn’t what you should be drinking?”

“Like you should be drinking all that gin! She finds him again, takes him and he drifts away into the mist of time, leaving her bereft, but she knows they will meet again. Destiny made manifest is their union. They will walk into the End of All Things hand-in-hand. Gin is bad for you, especially for one as young as you. Well, how old are you anyway?”

“I thought you said you knew everything.”

“I lied! HA! Hahahahahaha! I lied, boy! I don’t know everything, well, not consciously. So?”

“I as turned at 26, and I’ve been a Vampire for eleven years now, one of the Dark Blood Hive.”

“Aaaahhh, so that’s why you were eying that doll Bettie. Well, you can eat later. OUTCAST shall be his cognomen and he shall be known and his name be uttered as a curse among those of the Great Hive. Death is the pathway of the Abomination’s Dominion! All shall keen with lamentation at his behest and his song shall be the utterance of the damned.

“You Sah Door Kin Nah Ee You Lorr Kin Roe Fail Lee…

“And I remember well in the deepest realm of memory…

“The dread progeny shall bring us from every corner of the globe, desiring of us the life that stirs within… Its venom shall burn and brighten the night and its voice shall summon sorrow.

“Woe unto the Darkbloods!

“Woe unto the Flagellants!

“Woe unto the Bathers in the blood and the Crippled in spirit!

“The Bride most Pure shall pave the way for the Beast, her Garden of Blood come to harvest. And yon beast…yon beast shall tread forbidden paths and whisper songs into the Basin of Life. His voice….shall summon sorrow!”

“Gideon.. Gideon.. Can we get someone over here? This man has collapsed!”


The air of possession slowly faded from Faust’s face and he slowly turned his head to stare fully at Cadmus. “Gideon’s Litany. In full. As requested and as promised.”

“What happened to him?”

“A couple of Dough Boys rushed over to see what they could do. When they touched Gideon, the mad man came to, screamed, and ran off into the night. I never saw him again. I’ve told you want you want to know, now Cadmus, be a sport now and let me go. If you’re worried I’ll tell anyone about you, don’t be. I’ll just be happy to be free, I’ll never think of you again.”

“I’m sure you’d be thrilled to never give me a further thought. But you still have thousands of confessions and I want to hear as many as I can before…setting you free. And I’m hungry. You’ve taken all my Blood for the night. It’s time you gave some back.”

Instead of cutting him open, which was what Faust expected, Cadmus took four of his longer daggers and plunged them into Faust’s wrists and ankles. He chose the flesh between the bones of the ankle and the Achilles Heel to anchor Faust’s feet further to the bed. Of course, Faust screamed from the pain, but quickly quieted when Cadmus struck him hard across the face, making him see stars. By then Cadmus was straddling Faust, bending down to study his face.

“Such an expressive child and such a gift for conjuring memory. I’ve never seen Vampire memory so intricately played out. It’s usually just relayed with no flair whatsoever. After all, it really is…just a memory.”

“It’s what I do,” Faust replied blankly, his endless blue eye staring up at Cadmus through tears. “It’s what I’ve always done.”

“You do it well. Now, feed me.”

Cadmus bent down and placed his mouth on Faust throat, piercing it doubly with his two sets of fangs. He set to drinking from Faust, sucking hard at the wounds. Faust thought he would be sick, having this leech, this abomination, attached to him in such a way. Despite himself, Faust grumbled, “I’d rather have you cut me open and drink from me like that than have your filthy mouth so intimate on my throat.”

Cadmus took one last long drink from Faust before sitting back. “Oh, no worries, youngling, I plan to. That’s what the knives are for. Sometimes, pain in such extreme can break geasa, although that’s very rare. But you are a very rare soul, so…I’m hoping those geasa-blessed knives will keep you safe and snug. We wouldn’t want you lurching free and getting away before the fun is over now, would we?”

The look of horror on Faust’s face was all Cadmus needed to know it was time to proceed. He moved off his little captive and walked around to where his knives still rested beside Faust. He picked up on delicate blade, a scalpel, and ritually displayed it to Faust. He then brushed his spidery fingers over Faust’s arms and legs, and then his belly.

Faust flinched away from the Abomination’s touch, watching his captor’s every move through a veil of tears. It seemed like everything he was, was knotted up at the base of his throat, making his Adam’s apple work constantly for a place to rest. When Cadmus came at him with the scalpel, Faust closed his eyes tightly, forcing the tears that had shimmered on the surface of his Kaleidoscope eyes out and down the sides of his face. The first cut he felt on his arm, beginning where his arm met his shoulder, right at the pit, and moving downward to this trapped wrist. He refused to scream. He only wept silently, wishing it were only just a nightmare from which he could not awake. He heard the rustle of Cadmus’ priestly robes as Cadmus moved around the bed and did the same to Faust’s other arm. Strangely, Faust felt no blood coming from the wounds. With the amount he’d drunk, he should be bleeding in profusion by now. But no. Nothing. He continued to weep silently, the tears wetting the pillow beneath his head.

For a moment there was silence and Faust stole a peek from one barely opened eye. Cadmus was just standing there, looking at him with that blank, almost darkly amused expression he kept on his face. He then turned and went to the foot of the bed. Faust’s squinted eye followed him as the elder vampire crawled up between his legs. Faust’s exorbitant Blood supply rushed to his face in shame. He just wanted to crawl away and hide from this monster.

But what Cadmus did next took away all that shame and replaced it with unspeakable suffering. Cadmus cut precisely right into the internal iliac vein on the right side of Faust’s body. The pain that Faust felt burning in his groin made him buck violently and shout in spite of himself. The shout became a shriek and then a howl as Cadmus continued on to the femoral vein, and moving downward smoothly and deeply, followed the course of the vein into the great sephenous vein and further on as the vein shrank into the posterior tibial vein. He shifted and continued his work, repeating the horrible act upon left side of Faust’s groin and leg. Still, there was no blood. Cadmus then moved upward, resting his head on the very area that would cause Faust to hold his breath in shame, despite the agony he was in.

“I have heard that the sweetest Blood to ever grace the willing tongue of a Vampire is the Blood that comes from the previous reproductive area of an Incubus or Succubus from the Dark Blood Hive. I’m certain you’ve engaged in all forms of Ambrosciata during your time as a Darkling, Faust. What’s your opinion on this?”

Faust only whimpered in humiliation and pain.

“I want to know….” Cadmus rasped, and he buried the scalpel into the superficial dorsal vein where Faust’s penis met his body. It was a deep gash and one that did summon blood with the help of a few arcane whispers on Cadmus’ part. This cut almost did break the geasa on Faust, who lurched and crane in the agony.


“Shut up with that sanctimonious blather and let me feed in peace,” Cadmus growled before clamping his mouth over the wound and drinking the Darkling Blood that spilled outward as though begging to be drunk. He lingered there, if only to cause Faust psychic, mental, and emotional distress as much as to cause him physical pain. It was true, though…Darkling Blood from that particular area was indeed the sweetest he’d ever tasted. He’d have to do this more often to his prey.

Cadmus didn’t take much, just enough to sate him until he could feed someone else to the chalice. He lifted his head and crawled up Faust’s frame, making sure to trace a finger in up and down the split in his left arm, causing him to wince with pain. Once they were nose to nose, Cadmus stuck his bloody tongue out and lathered Faust’s lips with his on Ambrosial Blood.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it? Even when it’s your own. Oh, don’t be so high-minded. Blood is Blood.” That last bit came out as a whisper, a sultry summons to Faust to succumb to his dark nature. And Faust did. His own tongue darted own quickly, taking in some of the Blood. He closed his eyes against the joyousness of its flavour, then opened them again to meet Cadmus two-dimensional gaze with his own cobalt reproach.

“Why are you doing this to me, Cadmus?”

“Because you are the one for whom I came,” Cadmus said simply. “Now, when I leave here, I won’t be back for a while. You’re not bleeding….yet. I’ve stayed your body’s natural inclination to spurt out from the veins I’ve opened. When I leave, that stay will be released, but very gradually, so you don’t starve too quickly. As I said, I’m leaving you to your thoughts and the confessions you carry for a while this time, so be sure to have as many of them as you can muster ready to share with me during my next visit. You won’t see me for some time, for which I’m certain you’re thanking your god with mad abandon in your heart of hearts. You’ll be wishing for me before the blood coma takes you, as I’m sure you were before. Strange how that happens, eh, boy? How you can wish for your worst nightmare because he’s your greatest salvation.”

“My greatest salvation is Christ,” Faust said flatly, his lips touching Cadmus’ own supple ones, their faces were so close.

“If I could laugh and mean it, I would,” Cadmus spat, jabbing his finger into Faust’s wound, eliciting a new round of tears. “So I will not. I’ll leave you to your thoughts and the discomfort of lying in your own slowly spilling Blood.”

“The knives,” Faust said quickly before Cadmus could move. “Remove the knives, please. You know the geasa weren’t broken. They aren’t needed.”

“The knives remain, my lovely Faust,” Cadmus said, kissing Faust’s forehead before getting up and retrieving his beloved chalice. “The knives remain.”

When Cadmus reached the door to Faust’s bedroom, he looked back. “Bleed,” he murmured, and a slow trickling began to emit from the veins Cadmus had split in Faust’s arms and legs. It was so slow, it was almost like a tickle and barely noticeable at all, had Faust not seen it begin.

“Please, Cadmus,” he implored, hopelessly but determinedly. “Please stop doing this to me. Just let me go……. Please.”

“Goodbye, Faust. Oh, and here’s a confession from me. Of course, it’s not true, since I don’t love, but I’m sure you’ll remember the song and appreciate the irony…” Cadmus paused. “Or maybe not. Either way, my confession to you as I leave you to your ponderances…


I’m confessin’ that I love you . . .
Tell me, do you love me too?
I’m confessin’ that I need you,
Honest I do, need you every moment!
In your eyes I read such strange things,
But your lips deny they’re true . . .
Will your answer really change things,
Making me blue?

I’m afraid someday you’ll leave me,
Say’n can’t we still be friends?
If you go, you know you’ll grieve me,
All in life on you depends . . .
Am I guessin’ that you love me?
Dreamin’ dreams of you in vain,
I’m confessin’ that I love you

I’m afraid someday you’ll leave me,
Say’n can’t we still be friends?
If you go, you know you’ll grieve me,
All in life on you depends . . .
Am I guessin’ that you love me?
Dreamin’ dreams of you in vain,
I’m confessin’ that I love you.”


His voice grew more distant as Cadmus sauntered to Faust’s front door, out of it, and down the hall. His was a musical voice, but not for a song so fraught with hope and the promise of love. Cadmus was right. He knew nothing of love.

The tears came freely now. The Blood slowly oozing out of his veins combined with the four apparently permanent piercings of his wrists and ankles by the magickally-charged knives exacerbated Faust’s pain, but he could do nothing but cry. Why cry out for help anyway? No one would hear him. All he could do was suffer through the agony and wait to heal, hoping that he’d retain enough Blood, he wouldn’t die before Cadmus returned.

But something told him that wouldn’t happen. Cadmus wasn’t finished with him yet and Cadmus wasn’t one to make mistakes. He’d return…in barely enough time. But he would return.


tinhuviel: (Cadmus and Faust)
After having fed from Faust, Cadmus is mocking him in his odd emotionless way. Faust knows the suffering is only about to begin. Art created by the amazing Meg Farley. You can see more of her breathtaking art here: http://mldrfan.deviantart.com/

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.
tinhuviel: (Ka-Tet)
The language she uses to speak to God.... How appropriate.

tinhuviel: (Faust)

Two nights later, Faust began to feel the hunger, the marrow-deep thirst that defined his Vampiric nature. It took longer this time, perhaps because of the quality of Blood he’d been fed. The thought of his cannibalism sickened Faust, yet it didn’t stop him from salivating at the thought of taking libation from the chalice again. Now. He wanted it now. He needed it. Faust found himself wishing Cadmus were there. Then he cast his eyes to the knives that rested beside him, waiting for their chance at his flesh. Only a little did the thought of their piercing his person sway Faust’s desire to have Cadmus lift the chalice to his chapped and peeling lips again.

“Cadmus, where are you?” Faust croaked, using his voice for the first time since the night Son of Sam last struck. “I need you. Oh, Christ…. What am I saying?”

Faust shook his head and licked his lips while he still had some moisture left in his mouth. He was so hot. This Summer was interminable. Despite what humans may believe about Vampires, if they believed at all, Darklings could feel heat and cold. The sway of the seasons could be just as uncomfortable on a Vampire as a human and, the more poorly-fed a Vampire was, the more he suffered the effects of the weather. Right now, Faust was wholly subject to the heatwave that held New York City in a vice grip of extreme discomfort. A drop of sweat dangled from a wet lock of hair right over his right eye, then plopped in before Faust even had a chance to blink. The salt burned and brought tears to both his eyes.

angels and blood )

That's all I have so far, but I'm writing furiously. I need to be shed of this chapter and Faust's suffering, because it's eating me up inside.

tinhuviel: (Faust)

Three hours. It took three hours for the incisions to heal. It took another two hours for the scars to disappear. During that time, Faust prayed. He recited the 23rd Psalm many times. He also recited the sleep prayer beloved of so many children. It was the only thing he could think of and he wished more than anything that he could sleep, truly sleep.

But freshly fed Vampires seemed quite incapable of sleep. Vampires didn’t need sleep anyway. The only time they ever came close to sleep was the blood coma, which came only with extreme hunger or starvation. Despite Cadmus drinking from him, Faust was still saturated with Blood and not just any Blood but, according to Cadmus, the transformed Blood of Kelat herself. Faust had no reason to doubt the monster’s veracity, as he could sense the deep power of the food coursing through his being. And it was keeping him awake to enjoy every agonizing moment of his rejuvenation.

Once he felt at peace enough to think clearly, Faust thought back to the night he met Gideon.

It was 1942 and Faust was performing with the USO for a group of soldiers who were spending their last night Stateside before shipping off to war. He was half of a comedy duo in the fine tradition of Abbott and Costello. Faust was the clown to his partner’s flawless straight man. Nothing was off limits to ensure these boys got as many laughs as possible. Many of them would never return from the second Great War. The least he could do was give them his all so they’d leave with a laugh in their throats and a smile on their lips. The world was at war and everyone, even Vampires, needed to do their part. At least that’s how Faust saw it.

Faust's memories of the Depression and the Second Great War )

tinhuviel: (Faust)

Two hours into it, the agony finally subsided as Faust’s unnatural Vampire flesh began knitting together the gaping wound in his belly. Until then, Faust was incapable of rational thought. The animal seeded within each human was the only thing that was present, desperate for escape, for a way far from this trap of pain and fear in which it found itself. At one point, Faust found himself scraping his upper left arm with his fangs, contemplating the virtues of gnawing off his limbs as way of escape. But his capacity for thought returned before he began the gory process, and he reasoned that the bonds that held him would not allow for even one limb to escape with him and, if he had no arms or legs, how would he ever get himself free of this monster in whose grasp he found himself?

Again, he cried for help. Faust cried himself hoarse. No one came. Not even his surly neighbours pounded on the thin walls for their crazy fellow tenant to quieten it down. Cadmus had done something to keep people from hearing Faust.

He thought about his play mates at the Studio. Surely some of them would wonder about his not making an appearance to cuddle up in the hot tub. But….none of them knew where Faust lived. Despite his open demeanor, Faust was actually a very private person, keeping himself to himself, and his deeper motivations deeper still. He had opened up to Cadmus because he….. Faust’s eyes widened and his jaw went a little slack. He couldn’t believe it. Faust had been Compelled to open his life up to Cadmus. He’d been drawn to Cadmus in way he’d never been with any other Vampire or human. This creature had Compelled him to bring him into his home, to give him the reasons behind his communion with so many for so long.

Faust thought back to that night at the Studio. It had been no accident that Cadmus had been there, and had honed in on Faust so quickly. He had been waiting on the Confessor. Now it seemed to clear when, then, it was all just happy coincidence. He wondered now if Cadmus even knew anything about Rebekah and Mephistopheles.

He wondered now if his search for God was over. Would he now die alone in this dilapidated apartment and suffer awareness until his soul dispersed without the hope of redemption just because he had been transformed? What was it when a person was transformed without his consent? The word….it was conversion. In the Vampire world, when a person was transformed without consent or despite his protestations, that transformation was referred to as conversion. Can someone be held accountable for sins committed against one’s will? Then again…he didn’t really fight that hard when it happened, now did he? Once the Blood touched his lips, Faust was a willing participant in his own damnation.

The wound was now completely closed and it itched. Faust tried to no avail to reach down to scratch the incision. “Grraaaaahhhh!!!!” he uttered loudly, beating his head on the pillow underneath his head. The line of knives beside him jangled with his movement. “Why why why why why?! Okay okay…. Let me think.. He wants information. He wants to know what I know. But what do I know?”

The Ten Confessions )

tinhuviel: (Faust)

Everything was a haze at first. He couldn’t really focus on anything, mainly because he was so dreadfully hungry. His face itched. When he moved to vigourously rub his face, as he was in a habit of doing upon waking, Faust realized that he was unable to move his right hand. He tried his left hand to find the same result. Faust felt not bonds, so this confused him.

He attempted to get up, to swing his legs over whatever surface he found himself, only to discover that his legs wouldn’t move either. Well, that wasn’t entirely correct. He could move his arms and legs, but the movement just...stopped…at the wrists and ankles.

Faust strained to clear his vision. The world was seen through a thin veil of wet cotton, it seemed. Even though his sight was impaired, Faust’s other senses began to swiftly awaken. Someone was there with him.

“Who –“

“Who indeed.”

“Cad-Cadmus?” Faust moved to free himself again to no avail. “What’s happened? Where are we? Are you okay?”

Cadmus licked his lips slowly as he processed what Faust had just said. Faust actually thought Cadmus shared his own predicament and was expressing concern for him. He never thought that he alone had run afoul of some poor choices and even poorer luck. His first inclination was to see if his new acquaintance and elder was all right. This one should never have been transformed. It was no wonder he hadn’t turned Beast. There was no conceivable way it could have happened without instantly destroying the Vampire Rebekah and Mephistopheles had just created.

“I am well, Faust,” Cadmus said, his smooth almost-British clip drenching the room with a feigned charm. Passing a hand over Faust’s eyes, Cadmus instantly cleared the youngling’s impaired vision. Faust cut his mosaic eyes to Cadmus, who sat at his bedside, the questions already beginning to form in their cerulean perfection. “You, on the other hand, are very far from being well. You will never be well again.”

What are you talking about? Cadmus, please….let me go. I’m hungry.”

“Never you fear, little one. Here, here, look.” Cadmus took Faust’s chin and pulled it toward him and the side table next to Faust’s bed. Sitting on the table was the chalice. “Do you see this? Do you see this chalice? It’s very special, this vessel of life. It transforms human blood into Vampire Blood.”

“I don’t care,” Faust said, his voice level, barely containing a growing panic. “Just let me go.”

Cadmus picked up the chalice and, transferring it to his left hand, he supported Faust’s head and neck with his right. “Drink. This will be the most divine Blood ever to grace your tongue. It may well bring you…a religious experience. This is the blood of your Domina.”

Faust's Tribulation begins )

tinhuviel: (Faust)

“And they left me here alone in my new body with my new name, nursing a new and burgeoning thirst.”

“The bloodlust…” Cadmus pointed out.

“No, not just that. It was a thirst for knowledge about the meaning of it all and for that one precious vision of God, the seed my parents planted before they left. Do you have any idea why they’d do such a thing? Because it’s been my experience over the past few decades from talking to so many fellow Vampires and humans alike, that Vampires are separate from God. If you know Rebekah and Mephistopheles, any insight would be most deeply appreciated.”

Faust's entrapment )

tinhuviel: (Faust)
This section features actual slang from the 20s and 30s. If you aren't sure what something means, scream. Oh, and his mortal name is a nod to Bear McCreary, who rocks every which way to Sunday. Period.


Life was great. It was absolutely swell ! I hadn’t a care in the world, hoofing it to the wee hours in joints, then working on musicals all day with the hope of making it big someday in the Big Apple. I’d rode in on the rails to New York at the age of 15, old enough to know better, but still very young enough to not care! It was all an Adventure then. Still is.

I came from Illinois, what was then the heart of Gangster country. Faust rolled his eyes and gave an almost weary smile. Those were really violent days, the Age of Prohibition, but fun too, if you knew how to handle yourself. That mess should have taught this country something: the more Free Will is meddled with, the further away from the Plan you get. Hmm-mmm. No doubt there.

Now my generation, we were all about Free Will. Give us a snifter, a hookah, a cigar, and a dress made of stringed beads and a little air, and we’ll give you a party you’ll never ever forget. For my part, I wanted to embrace my Inner Bohemian and help others realise their own. I wanted to take the hilarity you could find in the prohibited substances of the day, and translate them onto stage and maybe even radio, so folks who couldn’t afford liquor or the risk they’d take trying to buy it could still enjoy the effects of it in the bland safety of their parlours.

I already looked young for my age, but nobody cared. In New York, nobody ever cares about your story as long as you’re doing what they expect of you or you’re doing something they think is aces. I was acing it in every way in those days. My song and dance routines born on Tin Pan Alley were the cat’s meow in certain circles back in the day. I was the community’s little darling. Everybody knew me and everybody loved me. Not braggin’, just sayin’.

I spent years on Tin Pan Alley and every year just seemed to be even better than the one before it. The whole world was in a full-on perpetual celebration, or so it seemed. And then that fated day in 1929 came, when we saw invincible men cast themselves from atop the highest structures they could find because everything we thought existed, everything we were so certain would always be there, suddenly….vanished.

how Faust became a Vampire )

tinhuviel: (Faust)

The cab ride took approximately 25 minutes from Studio 54 to Faust’s modest domicile on Bleecker in Soho. An overly renovated building, it was just this side of being ramshackle, artists’ paint literally holding it together in places. This was a domain for creative souls, souls who embraced their phoenix and flew with it from the ashes of their mundane existence.

The moment the cab stopped, Faust thrust a hefty sum of cash at the driver, thanked him profusely. The driver grinned and nodded in appreciation at the Darkling, gave him his name and number, and said in a thick accent, “You ever need ride, you ask for Draggan, k? I’ll be good to you, young man. You? You good soul.”

“Thank you, Draggan! I’ll be sure to call just you next time I need to go somewhere. You’ve been wonderful to my companion and me, and I really do appreciate it.”

As they exited the cab, Draggan scowled at Cadmus and gave him the Romany sign of the Evil Eye. Cadmus just stared blankly back at Draggan, searching for any flaw in his body that could be touched just a little. There.. right there. A clot in the man’s leg, ready to break free. Cadmus nudged it with his mind and felt the tiny killer float into the man’s blood stream. It would reach his lungs shortly and that would be the end of Draggan and his Gypsy Evil Eye.

Cadmus pretended a sweet smile, even lifting his lower eye lids the way he’d seen so many humans in full mirth do. “Have a nice life, Draggan,” he rasped, illiciting another sign of protection from the Gypsy cab driver as he followed Faust onto the street in front of the Darkling’s apartment building.

in Faust's apartment )

tinhuviel: (Faust)

Faust, known also as the Confessor amongst those closest to him, was a young Darkling who dwelt in the Soho area of New York City but, every night, could always be found at Studio 54. He had a section of one of the infamous balconies of hedonism partitioned specifically for his particular activities of preference. No one really knows for certain from whence he came as a mortal child, somewhere in America, that’s for certain. He always had that fresh-faced, hopeful enthusiasm you tend to find in the American face. It was known that he had been transformed by Rebekah and Mephistopheles, and that Mephistopheles gave the new Vampire his name, as a nod to the legendary Faust character. It was also known that Faust had traveled far and wide before finally settling in New York City to embrace a freer existence than perhaps he had ever known. He was truly a child of his age, but was ever seeking to learn the ways of his present incarnation or, as he may have perceived it, predicament.

read more )

tinhuviel: (CadmusOrphaeus)
I'm posting what I have right now because I'm close to the end of the chapter, which has become....massive. This may be a repeat from a post a week or so back, but I want it all together, so please have patience with me. And, yes, this is what I've been doing with my time. Not Joker Blogs so much as this. I've been a writing fool. Oh oh, and all this is unproofed; however, I now have an editor and she's gonna fix me up really good with all three books. And I have an artist who will probably be doing the jacket art. So yay!
read here )
tinhuviel: (Faust)

And So I Pray by Jem

Storm is brewing in the air tonight
So many pressures on my mind
Want to escape just wanna run away
But it's not an option I have to stay

And so I pray
I wish that all these things would go away
To disappear if only for a day
Know I can't go but I don't wanna stay

Can't believe the irony
The thing I wanted is killing me
All the happy smiles I miss
Didn't think it would be like this

And I pray
I wish that all these things would go away
To disappear if only for a day
Know I can't go but I don't wanna stay

Storm is brewing in the air tonight
So many pressures on my mind
Want to escape just wanna run away
But it's not an option I have to stay

And so I pray
I wish that all these things would go away
To disappear if only for a day
Know I can't go but I don't wanna stay
To be left alone if only for a day
I wish that all these things would go away (pray to you I hope it will be alright)
To be someone else if only for a day (and over soon, I feel it)
Know I can't go but I don't wanna stay (hope that you hear me)
tinhuviel: (Faust)
Okay, I've compiled what prophecies I already know. I'll have to go mad to summon up more, so that'll be fun. Good ole Gideon. Based on Syd Barrett in spirit, but not in looks, he said such wonderful things before he set himself on fire at the Woodstock Festival. Good times, man. Good times...


the prophecies )

Thank again to [livejournal.com profile] booraven22 for the moleskin journal. You are a beautiful soul!
tinhuviel: (Faust)
In her wisdom and mercy, [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker drew Faust for me. Since I am pretty much speechless right now (and that hasn't happened since BRB....and it hadn't happened before that since...well, I can't remember), I'll just let the piece speak for itself.

art,faust,the sainted confessor

You can visit [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker's other masterpieces on her Deviant Art site

Okay....I'm going back to writing the horrific death of this soul. Could you kill him? Hm? No, I thought not. Guess it's up to me and...Cadmus. At least now I have my Faust icon, once I shrink this lovely bit of art down.

Thank you again, [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker! I'm wholly in your debt!
tinhuviel: (Can't Stop Writing)
I'm still writing on "The Sainted Confessor." I just broke the 10k mark and Cadmus has only now rendered Faust unconscious, fed from him, and placed immobility geasa upon his naked frame. Now it gets....fun for some, unpleasant for others. I'm on a writing roll. I don't want to stop right now. Those of you waiting on me for things, thank you for your patience. But this chapter must be written or the entire book will have to be tanked.

After I finish "The Sainted Confessor," I'm treating myself to a Date Story as a reward. [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker wants a date and so does my Reconciled J. Too bad it won't end up nearly as good for Canada as it will for J. In between that, though, I've a review to write and a short story to read. And I need to connect to some of my Tribe like I haven't in a while. You know who you are, Sweet S!

And I really need to figure out how to make myself a Faust icon without the world imploding.
tinhuviel: (Cadmus Castigation)
What I have so far. It's maybe 1/3 of the way done. All this is leading up to Cadmus'.....unique methods of information gathering from Faust. This is a first draft and written on a Cheerwine withdrawal, a caffeine high, sleep deprivation, and deep guilt. Enjoy!

Cadmus tells Orphaeus a story )
tinhuviel: (Cadmus)
I had to create a separate playlist for this chapter, now named "The Sainted Confessor." I think that sounds better than "The Tale of Faust," which has kind of been done, and it packs more of a psychic punch. It's my theory that there are two Vampire Saints, one sainted in madness, the other in suffering. Those two Saints would be Gideon and Faust. Anyway, there's a lot of Disco on this playlist, but Faust was a prominent regular at Studio 54, so you do the math.

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 )
tinhuviel: (Cadmus Castigation)
I forgot I'd mentioned Faust in The Chalice.
Cadmus turned Dunlevy’s mask around to admire it. When had he made this again? Wasn’t it in the 1970s when he decided to remake himself? Yes, yes. After Studio 54 and the Summer of Vivisection he enjoyed with that unfortunate disco Darkling, Faust.

Now I have to incorporate the making of the Mask of Dunlevy into the account of Faust. At the very end. Perhaps the mask is baptised in Faust's blood. So much horror... When I think it can't get any worse, it does.

Aaaaaand, I've connected a song to poor Faust, from the new DMB album. It's called "Lying in the Hands of God," which has so many levels of connotation, I can't even begin to comprehend them all yet but, somehow, this song fits.

Lying in the Hands of God by Dave Matthews Band

Baby I'll be your soldier. Gladly, I'll do your bidding
For just a taste of what your holding, for just a taste you could own me.

Save your sermons for someone thats afraid to love.
I'll be right here lying in the hands of God.

Here it comes, diving in into me.
Now the floor is the ceiling.
If you never flew why would you, cut the wings off a butterfly?

Save your sermons for someone that's afraid to love.
If you knew what I feel then you couldn't be so sure.
I'll be right here lying in the hands of God.

If you feel Angels in your hand, tear drop of joy runs down your face
You will rise.

Fillin' me up, now drain me
Skin begins to grow back slowly,
faster until I'm choking.
Really should call my mother.

Save your sermons for someone that's afraid to love.
If you knew what I feel then you couldn't be so sure.
I'll be right here lying in the hands of God.

I am in love with nothing less.
Tear drops of joy runs off my face,
I will rise for someone that's afraid to love.
If you knew what I feel, then you couldn't be so sure.
I'll be right here lying in the hands of God.

Now the floor is the ceiling.
If you never flew, why would you?
If you never flew, why would you? You.
Why would you?

I am going straight to Hell. I think I might already be there. But, if I can get this chapter written, the rest will be gravy. Tasty gravy, thanks to Barry.

I need a Faust icon, but that can't happen right now.
tinhuviel: (CadmusOrphaeus)




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 )
tinhuviel: (Cadmus Castigation)
During their return to Jerusalem to receive further instruction from Kelat for their journey to Rome, Cadmus reveals to Orphaeus how he learned of the existence of the Blood Crown. He tells the story of young Faust, a hedonistic and naïve Vampire residing in New York City during the heady Disco days of the late 70s. An artist, actor, writer, and performance artist, he was a fixture at Studio 54 where he was exposed to a number of other Vampires who felt compelled to be around Faust and use him as a confessor of sorts, either before or after their sexual exploits. This made Faust an unofficial and unwitting steward of Vampiric knowledge, most of which he ignored, but held on to in the event he encountered the same Vampire. He never wanted to offend any repeat visitor to his territory by not remembering who she or he was.

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.
tinhuviel: (Cadmus Castigation)
He did it with a slow deliciousness, the kind that only Cadmus could conjure. He slowly took the knife and inserted it into the vampiress' throat, watching it heal even as he slid the blade along her flesh. cut for adult concepts )
tinhuviel: (Cadmus Ink)
I'll probably be expanding this over time, just for fun. It's something I've been poking at all day, off and on, for no good reason really. I've had better things to do, like apply for jobs (which I did....about 30 of them just today) and work on the second draft of The Chalice, but Faust has been niggling in the back of my mind..... and Cadmus is always there. I haven't even proofread the offering behind the cut so, if anyone reads this and finds it appalling, you have no one to blame but me!

Faust meets Cadmus. Cadmus eats Faust. )

August 2017

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