tinhuvielartanis: (Tim Roth)

Four days and three nights passed before  Cadmus’ house went quiet.  Out of desperation, Flint had resorted to Vampirising his fellow rats, as he waited for his chance to flee the Plenipotentiary’s lair.  It was shoddy cuisine, but desperation made the blood taste much better than it actually did.

Even though the place had fallen silent, Flint was more than a little frightened that Cadmus was still present and waiting for him to attempt an escape.  If Cadmus was a master of one thing, it was absolute stillness.  Flint had never been more afraid in his life, truth be told, and that fright conflicted with his impulse to flee immediately.  He fought the urge, however, knowing that it was all too likely that Cadmus was waiting silently for Flint to reveal himself so that he could sacrifice the young vagabond Vampire to his Harming Tree.

He could sense the sun sinking beyond the mouldy stone walls of his dungeon hide-out and decided to give the silence one that night and the following day before he attempted to spirit himself away from the hidden keep.  After draining another rat, Flint slept, curled up in amongst his living brothers, but still shivering from cold and trepidation.


For most Vampires, patience was something that came with the territory of immortality.  Waiting for anything was like blinking your eyes in the scheme of things.  It all passed so quickly, the endlessness and variety.

For Flint, however, patience had always run thin.  Although he almost always was of a mind to shrug off the world and walk his own vagrant path, waiting for anything he wanted or enduring any situation that was not ideal to his whims of the moment were both nigh untenable, especially if he did not have anything else to busy his mind whilst forced to exercise a virtue that simply was not part of his make-up.

Flint opened one beady rat eye and glared at his brothers, who all seemed content in the deep crevice shared by the colony.  He was beginning to feel claustrophobic and irritable.  It had been 24 hours and, still, the keep was silent as death.  Raising his nose, Flint sniffed the stagnant air, and caught no scent of the Dark Child of Night.  Cadmus had to be gone.  This could be Flint’s only chance to escape the horrors of his killing ground.

Rising from the dank floor, Flint stretched, emerging from the ancient gash in the stone wall.  Instantly, he became his human form once more, immediately crouching in a defensive position.  You just could not be too careful with a creature like Cadmus Pariah.  His powers were boggling, and Flint felt he had been nothing more than lucky to have escaped the Plenipotentiary’s lethal wrath for this long.
tinhuvielartanis: (Can't Stop Writing)

Things have been going on, so this may be a bit of an update from Hell, compared to my usually non-updates.

 

First off, my phone has been on the fritz for who knows how long.  It’s not actually the phone, but the Cricket network.  I went yesterday to try to sort it, but the folks at the store couldn’t even troubleshoot it, so they had to put in a service order, which means up to 72 more hours of no service.

 

Since the first of the year, my health has been shite.  Recurring migraines with the most vicious nausea I think I’ve ever had, has beaten down my body more than I could have ever imagined.  In the past month, I have lost 10 pounds, and spent three days in the hospital, thanks to these fucking headaches.  I’m thinner now than I have been since I was 12 years old.  It has gotten to the point where I can’t even walk to the bathroom, which is right beside my room, without my having breathing difficulties and a pounding heart.  I feel like I am dying.

 

But, I might get to tick one thing off my bucket list before heading into the Void, if I’m lucky.  Jeff Lynne is bringing ELO back to the American stage on September 9th, 10th, and 11th of this year, at the Hollywood Bowl. When it was announced, I emailed a bunch of people with a proposition that, if they could get the tickets, I’d try to arrange us a place to stay.  My old high school friend, Andy, has always dreamt of attending a concert at the Hollywood Bowl, and he bit.  We’re just waiting for the tickets to go on sale, if I can’t finagle them earlier than 1 May.  The target day is September 10th, as that’s the best day for Andy.  It’s also my birthday, which would be perfect.

 

Speaking of Jeff Lynne, David Bowie’s unexpected and untimely death made me come to grips with a truth I’ve known for a long time, but never truly verbalised, even to myself.  I decided to accept it and to come out, to use the term in a wholly different manner.  I wrote Barry Andrews and told him that he was the single most influential individual in my life, more so even than even the godlike Jeff Lynne and JRR Tolkien.  I wanted him to know it, in the event either of us kicks the bucket.  You should tell people how they affect you before it’s too late.  It could be too late in the next five minutes.  No one knows what each second will bring.  No one.

 

A few weeks ago, there was a huge shake-up in the format of the Work in Progress that officially made it into a full-fledged novel in the works instead of a collection of short stories.  I don’t even know what brought it to mind, guessing it had to be some kind of divine inspiration.  The long and short of it, though, is that Flint steals the New Hive’s first - and currently only - relic, Cadmus Pariah’s Harming Tree.  The story will revolve around Cadmus hunting down Flint, with possible help from Orphaeus Cygnus, and will include the stories and vignettes I have already written about the Harming Tree.  As The Blood Crown was essentially a Vampiric Hope & Crosby Road movie in book form, The Harming Tree will be a bit of a book version of a hunt and chase movie, kind of in the vein of Mad Max: Fury Road and the like.  I have asked Barry if he could drum up a photo of his harming tree, which is seen only briefly in the ‘Captain Cook’ video, and is obviously the benign inspiration, despite its name, for Cadmus’ dreadful tool of agony.  It would be good to have a very clear image reference as I continue this mad journey into the Darkness.  I need to jog his memory, though, as it’s been two or three months since I asked him.  I’m sure he’s forgotten, and I keep forgetting to remind him.  We are old as fuck.

 

The end.

tinhuvielartanis: (RepLogo)



The Flint Cheat Sheet

Character study on the Darkling, Simon Flynt


  • flinttapeta.pngBorn Simon Flynt in the post-Mortality years near Waltham Forest (now Epping Forest, which ispart of Greater London) to a blacksmith and a baker/midwife. One sister, named May.

  • Developed a strong friendship and bond with childhood friend Gareth Owen, whose family had relocated to Waltham from Wales.

  • Transformed into a Vampire at the age of 27 after leaving a pub for home. The Vampire who transformed him is unknown, but was probably part of the Darkblood Hive, passing that lineage on to Simon. He was given the Vampire name of Absinthe, suggesting that the Vampire who had brought him into the Hive was quite possibly French. Simon rejected the name and returned to his mortal name, hiding his new identity from family and acquaintances. Only Gareth knew what Simon had become, and took that secret to his grave. After it was obvious he was not aging, Simon pretended to leave Waltham, when he actually just took refuge in the forest, feeding on hunters, travellers, and anyone else who may happen to find themselves in the depths of the wood. Gareth also gave blood to Simon, who now called himself Flynt, deepening their bond.

  • After the death of Gareth, then an old man, at the hands of none other than Cadmus Pariah, Flynt changed the spelling of his name to Flint and joined a roving band of actors who put on Passion Plays in each village they came upon. Flint could only perform at night, and used the excuse of artist's preference as to why this was.

  • Moved on to become an artist in London, painting and sculpting all manner of subjects, from landscapes to people. He also took up swordsmanship during this period, the rumours of his prowess in this becoming local legend.

  • Sailed to America once his eternal youth became suspect in London. Was known in the southern colonies to be an eloquent travelling preacher. Was one of the first to hold nighttime tent revivals. Was often called Brother Flint during this time.

  • Relocated to New York to begin a new life, once again finding a niche in the art world.

  • Bounced from region to region in the US until present-time, where he settled in Los Angeles and no longer bothered to hide his Vampiric nature. Flint the Vampire became well-known in the club, art, acting, and Beat circles.

  • Has large round hazel eyes that occasionally flash an eerie phosphorescent green.

  • Dark blonde hair, kept at a lanky length just past the ears.

  • Stands at just under 5'7”, making him slightly shorter than the small but highly dangerous Cadmus Pariah.

  • Often mistaken to be a crazy street preacher in various metropolitan centers.

  • Prefers females for his blood, but has no qualms taking males. Is well-received in the LGBT community.

  • Is fond of animals, often having a dog companion. He shares this trait with Dmitri, Kelat's soul mate.

  • Although tempted to transform his beloved Gareth, Flint has never brought a soul over to the world of Vampirism. He has just never really been interested in doing such a thing.

  • Loves to hang out in matinees while waiting for the sun to go down.

  • Is fond of comedy.

  • Tends bar in some of the clubs he goes to on a occasion.

  • Has a fascination for the modern world's technological advances and the odd fad.

  • Enjoys participating in protests and has been registered as a subversive by Homeland Security. He doesn't care. Protesting is fun.

  • Likes to be bare-footed when at all possible.

  • Visits Epping Forest as often as possible.

  • Likes to read, and has often visited Clive Barker at book signings and various other events.

  • Has a collection of swords, from his years of being a practicing swordsman.

  • Carries a camera with him everywhere he goes.

  • Likes all kinds of music, and was actually a fan of Magnificat, not recognising the leader as the man who killed Gareth.

  • Favourite emoting gesture is the shrug.

  • Possesses the ability to anubis into a common rat.

  • Cannot abide the sun, but has no trouble with religious symbols and artifacts.

  • Has a strong Compulsion and Glamour ability, but cannot maintain either for very long, mainly due to a lack of self-confidence when it comes to such magicks.

  • Chose to remain within the New Hive when the Original Ten were reconciled by the Augury of Gideon. He felt he had nothing to offer the world as a mortal, and decided to remain wandering in the eternal night.

  • Rarely kills, and only when he absolutely has to. This does not come from some lofty ethic; rather, he would prefer to dedicate all his time to the drinking of blood, not caring enough to make a kill unless his prey becomes too vocal or physical in their protests to his attentions. These are usually mostly straight men who find themselves in a compromising position with another male. Instead of having to listen to an endless diatribe against his practices, Flint just disposes of the prey and moves on to the next one.

  • Has the ability of super speed, and can run like a cheetah if he can be bothered enough to do so, and that’s not often.

  • Developed tapeta lucida upon being transformed, which may be the reason behind his strange, flashing eyes. His night vision is double that of most Vampires and he can actually see in infrared as well, seeing heavenly bodies usually only visible to high-powered telescopes.

  • Spirit animals: the domestic canine, the brown rat, the badger, and the moth.

  • Affiliate plants: most deciduous trees.

  • Affiliate gemstones: emerald and agate.

  • Scents: opium and tobacco (specifically pipe tobacco. No one knows why, and Flint doesn't really care why).

  • Music Preferences: Chamber music, Early 80s Punk and New Wave, Electronic, Hip Hop, and Trip Hop.  It has been suggested in some Darkling circles that Macklemore's Thrift Shop was a product of the artist meeting the Vampire in - you guessed it - a thrift shop.

Vagabond Vampire, Simon Flynt was born and raised in the days just after the end of the Great Mortality, near what is now called Epping Forest. After his transformation into the Darkblood Hive, at which time he was given the name of Absinthe because of his unusual eyes, Flint spent decades haunting the formerly-named Waltham Forest, long enough to become known to the people of the area as The Waltham Phantom. He does not know his Blood parentage, and had to learn about what he had become from his dearest friend, Gareth, who had learned about Vampires from a tribe of Romani passing through the forest. He is distinct in that he possesses tapeta lucida, and is seemingly cloaked from detection by Cadmus, which gives him a particular advantage when they finally do cross paths. He has long had the habit of looting thrift stores and charity shoppes for clothing intentionally way too large for his small frame. Since he is essentially homeless, his wardrobe is his home, which he wears in layers, discarding what he can no longer use, as he goes along. Flint has never used his given Vampire name, Absinthe. (anchors and influences - I’ll leave it to you which are anchors and which are influences: Tim Roth, Wavy Gravy, Ted “Theodore” Logan, Abby Hoffman, Jimmy Stewart, John Lydon, Q-Tip from A Tribe Called Quest, the Fool as represented in the Tarot, Viva la Vida by Coldplay, Inigo Montoya, Casanova, Hipsters, the Golden Age of Hollywood, Evangelical revivals and medicine shows.)

tinhuvielartanis: (Danny Orphaeus)
So where did I leave off on the whole changing roles subject?  I think I was just addressing Orphaeus’ relationship to Kelat.

I will freely admit that my giving into Danny Elfman love was what created Orphaeus Cygnus.  I’d always enjoyed his singing, but something about his score and vocals for A Nightmare Before Christmas triggered full-on obsession for me.  As a result, Orphaeus became a former Austrian opera singer who was brought over to the Hive of the Beast by Rebekah of Judea, Thiyennen’s blood daughter, a Dhampir, who was turned by her Blood Mother Kelat, making Orphaeus Kelat’s grandson.

Because of that, I always saw him as aligned with Kelat, and he would have actively sought out her prison tomb to release her.  Of course, the prison tomb scenario never came to fruition, but Orphaeus’ connection to Kelat was seemingly etched in stone.  It became part of the story arc, and the core reason for her choosing him to become the first Father of Memory.

His closeness to Kelat also dictated an unmitigated enmity between Orphaeus and Cadmus Pariah.  Actually that, combined with Orphaeus’ desire to reconcile the Hive of the Beast with the Great Hive, pretty much put the last nail in the coffin as far as those two were concerned.  Beasts were for Cadmus’ use until he was ready to dispose of them, and they had no other purpose.  For them to become upstanding citizenry within the Great Hive would be counterproductive to Cadmus’ motives, so the attempts of Orphaeus to redeem his tribe met with violent reprimand by Cadmus, and led to Cadmus being named Pariah, as was prophesied by Gideon the Mad.

At first, though, Orphaeus was only supposed to have a short appearance in The Chalice, and possibly be slain by Cadmus in the end.  But that honour fell to Paine Bryerson, who was the character anchored to my best friend Todd.  When Todd read about Paine, his first reaction was “You write about me, and I will sue your ass.”  To which I responded, “You threaten me with litigation, asshole, I will kill off your character.  In fact, he’ll be the only main character to die in the book.  And Cadmus will kill him, ‘cos I know how you hate Cadmus.”

Of course, all of this was joking between us, but Paine did turn out to be the one killed.  That was no joke.

I was so enamoured with Orphaeus Cygnus, though, I decided to thrust him and Cadmus together in a much closer proximity to one another in the next book, just to see what would happen.  At that point, Cadmus was already writing himself, and Orphaeus was close to that zen state of character development.  The Blood Crown was established almost solely on this premise, and it became my Vampiric answer to the Hope & Crosby Road movies.  Of the three books, even though The Chalice is my baby, The Blood Crown is my favourite, because it centers almost completely on my two favourite characters, Cadmus and Orphaeus.

During the time I was writing The Blood Crown, another incidental character of mine, who was mentioned only in passing in The Chalice, flared to the forefront as my friendship with Scott, of The Joker Blogs fame, began to develop.  Faust, the Disco Darling so brutally murdered by Cadmus during the Summer of Sam, demanded that his story be told.

And this turned out to be the most difficult and agonising piece of writing I had ever tackled.  I ended up soliciting impromptu therapy sessions from Megs and [Bad username or site: ”gunslingaaahhh” @ livejournal.com] during the long nights of my writing what would become a novella inside The Blood Crown novel proper.  I also profoundly apologised to Scott on more than one occasion.  Faust went from being a Vampire with a cameo appearance, to an actual Vampire saint who would prove to be of great importance in the third book, mainly because Megs couldn’t bear to think he had actually been slaughtered.  Thanks to her, Faust got to live, albeit in a different incarnation, but live he did.

And now I’m working on The Harming Tree, which was initially going to be a collection of short stories on how Cadmus came to grips with his newfound emotions, one by one, with the help of his “new relic” for the New Hive, the dastardly and bloody Harming Tree.  But the writing of one of these short stories, introducing what was supposed to be another throwaway character that Cadmus would get to destroy, turned everything upside down.

Enter Flint.

This time, the character was one I couldn’t bring myself to kill.  And this pissed me off, because such a new character shouldn’t gain so much creative power in such a short period of time.  But there it is, and his existence has turned the original plans for The Harming Tree upside down.  I’m now thinking that it may be a fourth novel set in my Vampire world, dealing primarily with Cadmus’ assimilation of emotion and his repeated conflicts with a young Vampire he can’t seem to slaughter.

Needless to say, Flint pisses off Cadmus as much, if not more, than he does me.  And something tells me that his role in the arc stories of Cadmus Pariah is far from finished evolving.  Time only will say for certain what the future holds for the Relics characters and how they interact with one another.  One thing’s for certain, though; Orphaeus will definitely be making another appearance in the new stories.  In fact, I’m playing around with one right now.
tinhuvielartanis: (Frustration)

This is the first revision, with the idea of The Harming Tree being more of a novel than a collection of short stories. There will be more changes here until I no longer find all this revolting.


After the song of the Augury of was sung, the Great Hive was terribly decimated by the mortation and purging of the Vampires. Gone were the last Tarmi of the Hive of Purity, finally rejoining their brethren on the holy isle of Meybhelahn. With them went the only human to grace that hidden home since the Night of the Blood Moon. Eve had fulfilled her destiny and was given her reward of sanctity, despite being Cadmus Pariah’s sacred garden of Blood. The Hive of Redemption collectively mortated back into the human population along with a number of Darklings of the Darkblood Hive. Most of the Tribe of the Tomb perished, finally being released from their crippling burdens. Those who were left also mortated and led short lives in human form. The only Vampires left were most of the Darklings and those of the Hive of the Beast. Less than five thousand Vampires walked the blessed dark, feeding upon the blood of the living.

Few of the Vampire Blood Royalty survived. Orphaeus Cygnus remained the High Prince of the Beasts, happy in his position and undesiring of any greater responsibility. Rebekah and Mephistopheles had never sought power within the Great Hive and had no desire to rise to power now that the King was dead and the Queen had passed into the Tarmian realm. Thaddeus Brannon had retaken his name of Dmitri and had disappeared into the Blue Ridge Mountains to mourn his departed lover. The only one left was the true heir to the Throne of Blood...Cadmus Pariah. The newly-born Vampire, aged to a certain regal beauty, had achieved all that he had dreamt, save for the death of his mother, Kelat. He had outlived his former master, the Apostate, and risen to power within what was now called the New Hive. Humanity was his for the taking, as were the spirits in the New Hive, a resplendent and neverending feast.

But he was not King. After Thiyennen, there could be no other king and, as long as Queen Kelat lived, the leader of the New Hive was considered a regent of the night. It rankled Cadmus, but he was barely concerned with this technicality because he knew Kelat would never return to the world of humans and Upyr. He was truly the ruler of the New Hive, but his title had to reflect his position on the throne. A coterie of Darklings and Beasts convened with Cadmus, despite their fear and hatred of him, and they decided upon the title of Plenipotentiary, the Ruler of All. Cadmus accepted this cognomen and rose to power over all the New Hive, his dark eyes watching the Upyr with dread magicks.

Still, he fed upon the Blood of the New Hive, reminding them of the Sanguinem Mittat and who was their eternal master. But he mostly took humans for food now, and basked in the ability to eat and drink the vast banquet of human food. He was more of a sybarite than ever before, and his West Country home was the center of the pleasure palace he called the world.


But all of it came with a price. Cadmus was fraught with all the trappings of emotion and he found himself countering the agonies of certain feelings with ghastly behaviour. Dogging him almost to the point of madness crept a Darkling who had always been masked to Cadmus’ boundless vision. He sought retribution for those who had been murdered to soften the blows emotion so often incur on those who feel, and he wandered on the peripheries of Cadmus’ world, waiting on a chance, any chance, to end the rule of the Plenipotentiary, by way of destruction or desire...or a strange combination of both.  Driven by vengeance, yet inspired by a kind of fascination, this Darkling was unlike any other in Cadmus' long night.

Herein lie the tales of Cadmus in the early days of his role of Plenipotentiary of the New Hive, the newfound enemy he was incapable of simply destroying or ignoring, and the object he found most sacred as he navigated his way as a Darkling walking a path of desire and revulsion: the Harming Tree.

tinhuvielartanis: (Flint)
When I first started The Harming Tree, it was initially going to be a collection of short stories, each one based on Cadmus re-aqcuiring one of the many emotions abused out of him beginning at a very early age.
I had two stories written already, and was working on The Star Watcher and what was to be Cadmus' realisation of the ultimate emotion, love, in a story involving essentially Cadmus' mirror image, Gethsymonae. I had half of The Star Watcher left, and a rough outline of the Gethsymonae laid out, when the old computer went kaput. None of the files could be save.
So, while I tried to recapture my Star Watcher mojo, and play around with the idea of Cadmus falling in love, I wrote this little drabble that eventually became The Waltham Phantom. I was so enamoured with the idea of Tim Roth being a Vampire, I thought it would be good exercise to see what would come out of such a hellish partnership, what kind of Vampire would be born out of the idea of the Roth. Once I got to play around with the idea, I would of course let Cadmus have his Blood, and forget about the throwaway Darkling.

But I had a wee bit of a problem. Well more than one, actually. The Harming Tree was nowhere to be found in this story, which made it non-canon for my purposes. Also, I really liked Flint. I enjoyed his laissez faire outlook on life, his almost supernatural ability to give even less of a fraction of one single fuck. I liked that he had no concern for the clothes that he wore, only that they had to be large, so more close could fit underneath, and the many pockets could hold as many cigarette butts as possible on any given occassion. It was like he was the founding father of railroad hobo-ism. I could not bring himself to die in this story, but I had to figure out a way where Flint would be able to escape Cadmus' unequivocal grip. Enter the Wall. That vague psychic connect that blurred each Vampire to the other. Sure they could sense one another, Cadmus much more so than Flint, given his superior abilities, but neither could really pinpoint the exact location of the other. This was new to Cadmus, who could touch on every Vampire in the New Hive. The older they were in the ways of Vampires, the more easily he could see them. This should not have been a problem with Flint, who was a mere 19 years out from the Great Mortaliity when he was turned.

So yeah, he got away, with the help of actually feeling rage toward Cadmus for killing his best from from childhood. And he swore revenge on Gareth's behalf before swirling himself into his totem animal, the rat, and running into the Night.

So that was the end of the first short story, and I figured I could just let it go. But Cadmus could not. Cadmus wanted Blood, and Flint's in particular. Now anyone who has known me for any length of time, knows that Cadmus is more than just a character to me. He's like my demon child. He talks to me. He writes himself. I'm pretty much reduced to being his scribe for the things he wants to say. Flint is different, though. Flint throws wrench in pretty much everything Cadmus intends to do. So, with the second story, this time officially canon, with the presence of the Harming Tree, I was fully prepared to give Flint a wave goodbye as Cadmus made swift meat of him.

And meat was had. Oh, indeed, meat was had by both of them, just not in the way I had intended. I only posted the story here in order for a handful who knew they could find it, could read it if they so wished. Most were excited by the idea of Cadmus having a bit of a love/hate relationship with another. Orphaeus was never in that particular position to fill such a role. His and Cadmus' dynamic had more of a Rosencrantz and Guildenstern vibe, though neither were ever even a mite close to being an idiot savant. As I said, though, Flint is different. Flint is well-prepared for the eventuality of anything coming his way. He doesn't give one single fuck about anything...except avenging the death of his best friend.

All that said, Flint could very well be the shadow in the peripheries of Cadmus' world. He could be a witness to the atrocities laid before him. He could watch the Harming Tree grow. And he could turn Cadmus' existence upside-down on occasion, driving him mad with desire or pushing him into a realm of fury Cadmus did not know even existed. Flint could be the catalyst that the Harming Tree had yet to find. He could make the relic a reality to all Vampiredom. He may have the power to expose Cadmus for his dread deeds upon the subjects he is to be ruling. Flint may well hold the key to what The Harming Tree is all about.

That said, The Harming Tree is well on its way to becoming a proper novel, with each short story I had initially mapped out, being a chapter therein. This way, the non-canon stories, the ones that do not directly involve the Harming Tree, can also be included, and will actually enhance the overall story of the first relic of the New Hive. And it will allow Flint to live indefinitely, and quite possibly let him grow into an entity almost as powerful as his enemy and lover, Cadmus Pariah.

I am so doomed.
tinhuvielartanis: (Flint)
Just a few seconds ago, I had a bit of a Vampiric epiphany.

To my knowledge, Cadmus has never engaged in full Ambrosciata (the act of Vampire lovemaking wherein the Vampires involved exchange their Blood). He's always promised it, but never follows through, taking Blood until the other Vampire lay spent...and dead.

But, despite being appalled by it, his attraction to Flint is quite real, so the Ambrosciata is complete this time. And therein lies the loophole of Flint's indefinite hold on life. He drinks Cadmus' Blood. He is the only Vampire on Earth to have ingested not only the Plenipotentiary's essence, but also the last remaining Tarmian blood on Earth. Since he was already degaussed, for lack of a better term, from Cadmus' full sight, this added strength only makes him more elusive.

So.

When he escapes from Cadmus' altar room, he can remain hidden from the Abomination indefinitely.

Oh hell no.
tinhuvielartanis: (Flint)
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tinhuvielartanis: (Rothian)
Well, not really; I'm just trying to step away from the inebriated madness of last night. My excuse is perfect: PHENERGAN. That's what the doctor gave me for the nausea. So far it has worked, as I just had a potato about an hour ago, and that was the first bite I'd had since Tuesday night.

I didn't think I had committed to memory the grand mal seizure I had that night. Well, actually, it was very early Wednesday morning. First thing I lost was my bearings, and I fell a couple of times just trying to get to the bathroom. Third time was a charm, though. My vision went wibbly and I suddenly woke up on the living room floor. I'd bitten my tongue again, could hardly move pulling myself with my arms, much less stand up. The TV had automatically turned off, so it was pitch black in the house. No light and hideous confusion is not a good combination, when you're trying to get some help. It took me a good half hour to finally dial the phone right, after I finally got it knocked down from the table, with an umbrella. It was as though neither the cell nor home phone would properly work. In actuality, it was my fingers that would not work.

Finally, I got in touch with Janice around 3:30 in the morning. She called 911 and I was hauled off the E/R to be monitored to see if I needed to stay in hospital, or if I could go home. I did my best to behave as though I had gotten my bearings and consciousness back, because I had the initial interview with my new therapist, the one who specialises in grief, and I really didn't want to miss that. It's been a year this month, and it's taken me this long to actually get somewhere. I wasn't about to let a seizure put that off.

The meeting with the therapist went very well, I believe. It's still a tentative arrangement, but I think I'll warm up to him nicely, and I really think he'll be able to help me. The issue I have is with myself. I'm not inclined to allow myself to be open about much, unless I'm baring the soul (and a little leg) here on the Cliffs. He mentioned that journaling may well be a good outlet for what I'm dealing with. My thought was, dude, you don't even want to know about my journal! haha

Since the incident of the other night, I've been spending the evenings at Uncle Michael's and Janice's. I just did not, and still don't honestly, feel comfortable with being alone when I still felt like a mean jelly. I will probably go up to their house again tonight, especially if I'm still a tad nauseous. If I have to have more phenergan, I want some physical support in the event I fall out from the medicine.

Regardless of where I stay tonight, I'll definitely have the computer with me, because I need to finish this damnable Feeding the Tree story. It's pretty much a given now that Flint will survive to perish in another tale. If it keeps up like this, Flint will end up being a staple for The Harming Tree cycle. God/dess only know what B will think of these stories, if he ever reads them. Maybe his advice to go nuts with the idea of The Harming Tree will be something he regrets. We'll see.

Tomorrow, I need to finish paying my bills and I need to clean this house up. In trying to find something, anything, to reach the phone, I pretty much trashed the living room. I really despise domesticity. What I hate even more, though, is not being allowed to drive for six months. It's gonna drive me (no pun intended) bonkers.
tinhuvielartanis: (Cadmus)
So this is what's poured outta me so far this evening. (the sound the centerpiece is making was inspired by the sound The One Ring makes just before it's devoured by the fires of Mount Doom ~ just FYI)

"Flint tried to study the legendary altar of the Plenipotentiary. It was the only thing that could be seen by the dim light of the candle. There, at its side and just touching the altar, perched upon a staff was a scalp, its red hair just as shiny and vibrant as the day it was ripped from Orphaeus Cygnus’ head. The single candle was affixed near the fore of the altar’s surface by way of its own wax. Cadmus had no need to use it to illuminate this room. He knew it well, but could probably also see the vastness implied by the sentient dark. To the left of the candle there lay an obviously ancient bell with an inscription on it that used no lettering Flint had ever seen. The right side of the altar was ordained with a small scourge with what looked like claws at the end of each leather tendril. But in the center…well, the center is what concerned Flint the most.

There it sat, resonating with its own strange music, an alien throbbing that inspired fear and fascination in eaual measure. Its tortured limbs reached toward a heaven that would reject it for all time and all times thereafter, and on them were stretched centuries of flesh, trapped and aching."
tinhuvielartanis: (Can't Stop Writing)
How about a musical correspondence to these damned characters as they play? Why? Why not? Done in real time as I writing "Feeding the Tree."

  • The Airborne Toxic Event "Sometime Around Midnight" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Digable Planets "Rebirth of Slick" - Flint

  • Shriekback "Despite Dense Weed" - Cadmus Pariah (wow, you think?)

  • Alphaville "Forever Young" - Flint

  • New Radicals "You Get what You Give" - Flint

  • My Live with the Thrill Kill Cult "Sex on Wheels" - Cadmus Pariah

  • The Eels "Fresh Blood" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Filter "Nice Shot" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Dukes of Stratosphear "What in the World" - Flint

  • Shriekback "Psycho Drift" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Oio "Sohoro" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Dave Matthews Band "Why I Am" - Flint

  • Swedish House Mafia "Greyhound" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Shriekback "Vast Behaviour" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Cyndi Lauper "I Drove All Night" - Flint

  • Tears for Fears "Break It down again" - Flint

  • Shriekback "Month of Sand" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Nine Inch Nails "The Becoming" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Apocalyptica "Hope vol. 2" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Big Audio Dynamite "The Globe" - Flint

  • Folk Implosion "Natural One" - Cadmus Pariah

  • The Smiths "How Soon Is Now?" - Flint

  • The Verve "Bittersweet Symphony" - Flint

  • Andy Partridge "Another Satellite" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Digital Underground "All around the World" - Flint

  • Loreena McKennitt "Skellig" - Flint (hahaha, I just could not resist)

  • Blur "Girls & Boys" - Flint

  • Ronan Hardiman "Warriors" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Alabama 3 "Hypo Full of Love [the 12 Step Plan] - Cadmus Pariah

  • Stereo MCs "Connected" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Primitive Radio Gods "Standing outside a Broken Phone Booth with Money in My Hand" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Matt & Kim "Daylight" - Flint

  • Peter Gabriel "Mercy Street" - Cadmus Pariah

  • Fluke "My Spine" - Flint


I'm done.
tinhuvielartanis: (Flint)
As I slodge through this story, "Feeding the Tree," I have learned the following things:

  1. I am way too fond of Flint for my own good.

  2. I am pretty much incapable of "going all the way" with Cadmus and Flint, although I'm gonna keep trying.

  3. BA does not care one bit how much I corrupt his artsy/craftsy object. "Go nuts," was the sentiment, if memory serves.

  4. The Internet is more a hindrance than an asset when you have anchored characters, because you learn really quickly that anchors can suddenly raise their ugly heads (an expression, not an opinion), and remind you that the world is smaller than a flea these days.

  5. I am unable to write on this story until after the sun goes down.

  6. Writing both Cadmus and Flint at the same time is increasingly a detriment to my mental health.

  7. I think about "Feeding the Tree" more than write on it because...#2.

  8. I should stop doing Google searches on anything, ever. Amen.


In other news, that will make no sense to anyone but me (well, maybe @miintikwa), when offering up a picture of pants, please have some pants on. ::dies::

I think that's it. Now back to wrestling with this story...
tinhuvielartanis: (Flint)
For what it's worth, I wrote this whilst jacked up on the Green Fairy - a lovely indulgence that seems to inspire artists and writers. I believe that now.

They kissed again, deeply this time, lingering in each other’s deliciousness, basking in the desirability of their dark union.  Flint wrapped his arms around Cadmus’ neck, delighting in the lushness of his flesh, and losing himself to the impossibility of one soul being as irresistible as the Pariah was.  He delighted in that he was engaged with the Prince of all Vampires, the Plenipotentiary himself, wrapped in the ecstasy of the flesh.  Flint was no stranger to such indulgences, being one of the Darkbloods, but he wasn’t very experienced in the pleasures of the Blood.  Vampires typically were not beating down his door to have Ambrosciata with him, so he was surprised and aroused by the idea that Cadmus Pariah wanted to exchange that holy elixir.  Intellectually, he knew it was most likely a ruse but, emotionally…physically, he really did not care.  Cadmus was the most beautiful of them all, and the most desirous.  Flint was aroused by the mere thought of him.

Cadmus leaned into him and purred in his ear.  “I am your grace and your forgiveness.  I am your dreams and your desire.  I am that which visits you in the deepest dar.  I am the whisper in your mind and the madness that accompanies that song.  I am the words upon your tongue and sweetness upon your lips.  I am the abomination you dare deny and the sacrament for which you seek.  I am that which you encircle and surround and that which embraces and devours you.  I am all that and so much more, young Flint.  So much I want to be for you, at least for this monumental day, here in the secrecy of sacred places.”

Flint was overcome by the eloquence of it all, and he took Cadmus’ lips fully into his own, savouring the ginger and papyrus that was his Darkling essence.  Cadmus returned the kiss, glorifying in the knowledge that he had possessed one more Vampire, taken him from the night like a babe, promising him the love of ages and the wonderment of eternity.  Flint had so easily been misled…then again, Cadmus did feel an undeniable attraction to him.  Perhaps it was because he was a Darkling and inherently sexual; but, Cadmus had often taken the Succubi and the Incubi of Darkblood.  It should not be an issue for him now.  But it was.  Flint sang to him in the silence of his existence, in the haunted echoes of his mind.  He placed his face against Flint’s and breathed in deeply, taking in his musk and tobacco, actually luxuriating in it this time.  Flint had cast a kind of spell on Cadmus, making inexplicably want him for real and true.  Cadmus rarely felt any kind of attraction, preferring rather to engage in its fallacy for the sake of feeding.  But this time was different.  This strange little Vampire who was actually smaller than he had captured his attention, had aroused his curiosity and his own strange desire.

Cadmus looked at Flint and began to peel the layers of garments that masked his thin frame.  He was as perfect as any human could be, which spoke volumes in Cadmus’ pristine world.  Eventually he reached Flint’s slight chest and he leaned down to kiss the delicate clavicle.  He was, in his own way, a very lovely specimen, despite his hobo appearance.  At least the clothing was clean, save for the overwhelming scent of various kinds of tobacco.  There was that musk, that undeniable musk that was so attractive.  It was not the musk of the lotus, which belonged to Cadmus and his papyrus identity, but something a bit more animal, something that, in its own way, was quite irresistible.  Cadmus inhaled the scent tumbling off Flint like waves.  He found himself wrapped up in its glorious seduction, and he felt the stirrings of the Darkling’s sexual inclinations.

tinhuvielartanis: (Roth = Lovely Man)
Well, this night has been most momentous. B was well-pleased with the first reaction to Shriekback's version of "God's Gardenias." He emailed a response to me about that, so I'm very happy that he's happy.

Also...

And this is most monumental...

Tim fucking Roth responded to one of my Tweets! ::dies::

Here's the exchange:

TRHOOLIGAN1: true and of course W got two terms
TINHUVIEL: That is because people are INSANE. (not everyone in the South is a tackhead...)
TRHOOLIGAN1: I've met many who aren't.

::DIES AGAIN::

So, apparently, he doesn't think I'm a complete nutter, based on nothing but the Tim Roth Tutorials. There were only supposed to be five of those anyway. I'm keeping it up because I've heard from so many Hooligans who really love them. Wonder why? Ha.

I've been imbibing Absinthe this evening, which is kind of ironic, given Flint's Vampire name (Absinthe), so I would draw on some strange inspiration from the Green Faery. Well, it's worked, and hearing from B and Tim Roth only compounded the mental state I am in. I am writing like a bloody fiend.

Who knows? I may actually overcome my prudishness about their encounter, and go ahead and write out the NC-17 activities. I am so going to Hell.

**EDIT** yeah yeah, I ordered B to go to bed, as it was 3:30 over there. WTF? Man really is a Vampire, I just know it. He responded with "absolutely." About 15 minutes later, he logged off and went to bed. Bossy Tin is BOSSY! heh.
tinhuvielartanis: (Cadmus Wrath)
"I am your grace and your forgiveness. I am your dreams and your desire. I am that which visits you in the deepest dark. I am the whisper in your mind and the madness that accompanies that whisper. I am the words upon your lips and the sweetness upon your tongue. I am the abomination you dare deny and the sacrament for which you seek. I am that which you encircle and surround and that which embraces and devours you. I am all of that and so much more."
tinhuvielartanis: (Flint)
Well, I went over to the body shop to look at Speck and get my stuff out of him. The front right side of him, along with the wheel is pretty beat up, but that's all. The cop had told me that the guy involved in the accident had more damage to his giant truck than I did to my Smart Car. He was boggled, and so were the folks at the body shop. Since the motor is in the back of the wee car, they believe that he can be repaired, no problem. I won't know for sure until the Nationwide agent goes out to eyeball him. Hopefully, that will be Wednesday. I have no idea how long I'll be without wheels, but at least it's a good bet that Speck will be back with me as soon as possible.

I asked Megs to sketch me an interpretation of Flint based on the cheat sheet. She came up with something brilliant. I can see Cadmus seducing and (maybe) slaughtering him, but I will probably let him live a little longer since I already have a way for him to escape Cadmus' grasp. Anyway, here's the picture of Flint. Sit in awe of Meg Farley!

Photobucket
tinhuvielartanis: (Flint)
Ambrosciata is Vampire sex, involving the act and the taking of Blood from one another. I am going to bust Hell wide open... And I deserve it.

He took Flint’s earlobe in his mouth and bit just enough to break the skin.  Sucking the Blood that grudgingly relinquished to his ministrations, Camus reached under Flint’s dusty, smoke-saturated overcoat, around to his back, and brought the Darkling up from the bed and closer against him.  He entwined his legs around Flint’s waist and down to his legs, wrapping around him like a spider circling its web, trapping the hapless fly.  And Flint found himself loving it, surrendering to the spider’s deadly attentions.   

tinhuvielartanis: (Flint)
Extremely rough, but I'm afraid not to save everything here.  (skimming over this, I see two Easter eggs...unintentional.  I am bloody hopeless.)

Photobucket

“Mm,” Cadmus answered distractedly. Flint looked behind him and saw that Cadmus was immersed in the virtual reality of the Internet. He began easing back around the bed to the door. Surely one of the adjacent rooms they had passed might offer up sanctuary and even escape. But Cadmus looked up at the movement and shook his head. “Now, where do you think you are going, my titch?”

“Don’t –“

“Call me ‘titch.’ Yes, I know. But see, Flint, I do as I please, and it pleases me to call you ‘titch.’ Protest all you want. This will be your last day of resisting my Will.”
Cadmus opened his vast eyes to their full effect, drinking in all that Flint had been or would ever hope to be. In that one moment, suspended in sublimity on a thread of time, Flint was enraptured in Cadmus’ infinite eyes. He was completely lost in those eyes, black within black within the endlessness of all that is darker than black. He wanted to find repose in those eyes. He wanted those eyes to gaze upon him forever, two endless coals of seduction mingling with his own phosphorescent strangeness. Closer and closer still, Cadmus drew his face closer to Flint’s until his lips touched his.

Cadmus pulled Flint to the bed, straddled him, pinned him down.

“You crave this lushness,” Cadmus said. “You wish to have my lips upon yours, to feel their Elfin fullness upon your own. The mere thought of it pleases you. Admit it, Absinthe. Own your desire for me, who am your Elven progenitor."

“I…”

“Speak, my young beauty. Say the words you have so long wished to utter. I know that you want me, in your dreams ever day as you sleep hidden away from the mighty star sun. Speak it, my odd little man. Utter the truth in your words.”
Flint held his breath, closing his eyes with all his might against the wonderment of Cadmus’ endless gaze. Yes, he wanted him. Despite his preference for the female persuasion, Flint desired the impossible beauty of Cadmus Pariah. Desperately did he want him. Leaning up to touch his lips fully on Cadmus, Flint kissed him, and felt the purity of his desire.

But then Cadmus withdrew, propping his chin on his spider hands, his elbows resting comfortably on each side of Flint’s thin chest. Next came that unbearable smile again, the very expression of the damned brought full circle.

“Like so many of your tribe, you Darkbloods, your weakness is sexual; then again, it does serve my purposes so very often. The Blood of the Incubus, or Succubus, any kind, is charged with a particular level of sanctity. The Little Death wrapped so snugly within the Greater. Ah, but I must admit that, on a certain incomprehensible level, my desire for you reaches just beyond my need for Blood…or the hungers that lie within my sacred Tree. Your mess, the whole of you, it sings to me on some unexplained level. My hatred of you is tempered also with a kind of fascination, and a special brand of…confusion. That is something I have not yet felt: confusion. Why is it that such conflicting apices could reside in the same plane of awareness?”

“I am not an apex, Cadmus.”

Cadmus blinked his infinite eyes with unconcern. “When you boil it down, young Absinthe, all anyone or anything is, is merely an apex masked in the fallacy that is emotion. Such is the reality of my sacrament. It bears for me the scars that realised apices may carry within their wily traps. You are nothing to me but an apex barely conceived within the nightmare of my reverie. You are a blip in the perfection that is my reality, something to be dispensed with and discarded, as soon as you are used up to my satisfaction. And what is so amusing by this, is that you are privy to all of it, yet you still willingly participate, because it is impossible to deny the undeniable. Especially when that which shall not be denied desires you above all others. At least for this day of days. Before you die, you may drink of me. Be the Blood of my Blood. Taste the flesh that, by family lineage alone, remade your own. Possess me in body, as I also possess you…in body, in Blood, in soul. This is me, as bared as perhaps I shall ever be, but only because I know that you will never see another luna to tell of it. Only by the branches of the Tree shall you be known for time immemorial. In the Tree, and in my undying memories of secret indulgences. Now, tell me, titch; do you have anything under those layers of thrift store bargains, or are you nothing but a ghost with revenant eyes?”
tinhuvielartanis: (Flint)
What I have so far, very rough draft. I'm saving it in increments here, because I'm scared to death of losing files now. Move along, nothing to see...

move along, nothing to see here )

Not Funny

Jul. 5th, 2012 11:48 pm
tinhuvielartanis: (Cadmus Wrath)
Right.

After reading what I have written on 'Feeding the Tree,' I have come to a godawful realisation regarding the blatant homoeroticism that's so prevalent between Flint and Cadmus.

And I am not fucking amused with my brain, or the world, or anything right now.

The subconscious, how it burns.

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The Cliffs of Insanity

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