tinhuvielartanis | Entries tagged with tarmi

Untitled-4 copy

First off, thank you for taking my poll about the Greys. I didn't even know they still had the poll option on LJ, but my knowledge about LiveJournal declined after I lost Semagic, which isn't supported on a Mac.

The symbol above is a holy one, according to the Tarmi. It was the rune that represented the original Deaghydhe from which the three nations sprung after setting off across the multiverse in search for a new home. The three nations were the Rhyllans, the Thranodiena, and the Tarmi. Supposedly, the symbol has been seen by humans who have found themselves on board a Thranodiena craft. When I began mapping out the history of the Deaghydhe (DYAH gih theh), the symbol was one of the first things that arose from the first few brainstorms. It dates back to around 1985-86.

I still have oodles of notebook paper with notes about the Rhyllan and Tarmian histories. I have never really written much about the Thranodiena, because I wanted to keep them a mystery, even to myself, the reason being they were based on the Greys. They really didn't come into existence in relation to the Deaghydhen annals until I "reverse-engineered" an illustration of a Rhyllan, and it turned out to be a dead ringer for the Grey depicted on the cover of Communion. The only things I've suggested about them are 1) They fell in love with the Infinite Astral, their nation growing in the expanses between the stars, 2) The effects of radiation, solar winds, and gravity - or lack there of - triggered an evolution into bodies that were better suited for a space-dwelling people, and 3) Long after the Tarmi settled on Earth, the Thranodiena arrived as well, but made no contact with their Deaghydhen kin. Instead, they began studying the nature of Earth and its endless lifeforms, including humans. They've been doing this for hundreds of thousands of years. Why? I don't know. Someday, I may attempt to create a theory but, for the time being, I think the mystery sits well.

The only Tarmian creation that utilised the Deaghydhen rune and survived the purging of the race by the Apostate is Cadmus' staff, given to him by Kelat in The Blood Crown. I drew the staff on Cadmus' 5-page profile back in 1996.

cp96_5feycopy

Current Mood: lonely
Current Location: the house
Current Music: Brian Eno - Neroli

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.

Current Mood: hyper
Current Location: home
Current Music: SKRILLEX - FIRST OF THE YEAR (EQUINOX)

For some idiotic reason, I had no clue that such a thing as an author's page existed on Amazon, so I'm playing catch-up now. I've uploaded a blurb about The Chalice, which will be live in 3-5 business days, according to Amazon. My page URL is http://www.amazon.com/Tracy-Angelina-Evans, if you're interested to see how I fare in filling in so many long-standing voids. For now, though, here's what I wrote about book 1:

From the Author

The Chalice was originally born in 1987 from a dream I had about Vampires that involved the songs 'Mercy Street' by Peter Gabriel and 'Theme from Harry's Game' by Clannad. In my dreamworld, Vampires defined in equal measure both blasphemy and sanctity. Even though I grew up with Vampire myths and legends, beginning with watching Dark Shadows in my playpen with my mother, I began a quest to learn as much about these beings as I possibly could, from the perspective of the many global cultures from which they sprang. One of the most influential books in my research was A Dream of Dracula by Leonard Wolf. Combining his profound scholarship with the myths of an alien race I had been writing about since 1983, I wrote my first short story about a Vampire turning a human to the night over the course of three days. This was my first Vampire character, Vasily Tenin (Thiyennen), who became one of the main characters in the book series. Also, in 1987, I read the book Holy Blood, Holy Grail by Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh, and Henry Lincoln. The idea of the Grail not actually being a cup set fire to my imagination, as did the subtle references to a centuries-long conspiracy that involved the Knights Templar, Freemasonry, and the Illuminati. A fascination with Romani and Jewish culture also had a major hand in the formation of what would become the first book of The Vampire Relics.

Even though I was doing a great deal of research and myth "redefinition", I still struggled to write anything with which I was comfortable. The main female character in the bones of The Chalice, Kelat, did not fit my idea of a proper antagonist, especially after I became involved in Goddess worship. Kelat, for me, was an ideal - a character that accepted herself for what she had become, but never lost her divine identity. She was an archetype of Kali or the Cailleach made manifest. I could not make her evil. So the story languished until 1990, when I discovered Shriekback, whose song 'Deeply Lined Up' gave me my first visions of who would become the primary antagonist in the stories, Cadmus Pariah.

Writer's Block haunted me for years, though, between 1990 and 1999, at which time I began to write Cadmus' biography, which became the chapter in The Chalice entitled 'Sui Generis'. From there, the writing and myth-making began in earnest, and produced the first book of The Vampire Relics, which was completed in 2005.

My hope is that, when someone reads The Chalice, they are inspired to do their own research on the Vampire phenomenon and its apparent presence throughout the world, despite nations and cultures having no contact with one another at the time rumours of Vampires came to the fore, and seek to learn more about cultures like that of the Romani, as well as mystery traditions practiced by Kabbalists, Gnostics, and Cathars. It would be heartening to hear of people leaving the book with more questions than answers, so that they might expand their knowledge and the realm of possibilities in this incomprehensible world. And I would also be very happy to have been instrumental in the broadening of readers' musical tastes by introducing them to artists like Shriekback, Concrete Blonde, ELO, XTC, Oingo Boingo, and composers Antonin Dvořák and Johann Sebastian Bach.

Lastly, I hope that American readers come out of The Chalice with the realisation that America has an incredible treasure of strange tales, and a newfound interest in those legends and mysteries, like that of the Roanoke Colony and Virginia Dare.

Please enjoy The Chalice and The Vampire Relics. Pass the tales on to those you love. Everyone in this book and the others in the series were written to encourage people to never turn away from the Magick contained in this crazy reality we all share because, if you imagine it or believe it, whatever you believe or imagine exists on some level, and may already be imagining you back.

Even monsters like Cadmus Pariah.

Illustration for the first Vampire story I wrote in 1987, called Vasily's Kiss.

Current Mood: jumpy
Current Location: Home
Current Music: Deborah Harry - I Want That Man

As previously mentioned, Matt and the Mother Unit gave me a Wacom Intuos art tablet for my birthday. For the past month, I've been trying to get acclimated to my new reality of digital art. The hand/eye coordination I learned from a very young age is out the window, as I have to relearn the effects of "pen" to "paper", since neither thing exists in the traditional sense of the words. It's very strange to not look at where I am applying my pen, or stylus, as it's called but, instead, keep my eyes on the computer screen. I imagine artists throughout time, on up to the 1980s or 90s, would look at the Intuos and intone dramatically, "What sorcery is this?" I know I've certainly asked that question more than a few dozen times since 9/10.

I am of a mind that I will be in student mode, probably for the rest of my life. That being said, I have created a few pieces that are really nothing more than doodles, of which I'm kind of proud, considering the first few attempts of drawing on the Intuos resulted in what looked like stick figures having strokes.

So, I am posting the drawings that don't suck like a porn star on overtime. I've arranged them in order of when I drew them, to show my progress (and I use that term very loosely) in hand placement and graphics manipulation. They are all behind the cut after the pic I just finished of Richard Ayoade.

( Click for more grade school hilarity )

And that brings us to today's graphic treat, Mr. Richard Ayoade. I have to say, I am really proud of this picture, even though I know I have a long way to go before I'll think I'm worthy of this glorious art tablet. If RA ever sees the picture, I hope he likes it.

Current Mood: artistic
Current Location: Home
Current Music: Excision - Ohhh Nooo!

Ů sa dorken na’aaůlor kenropfehli
And I remember well in the distant realm of memory…..

Listen well, Child of Star and Child of Tree, to the youngest tale in the Cycle of Moon Myths. This is the last tale that humans know was told by the Tarmian folk for, with this tale, the last of the Tarmi veiled themselves from the World of Man, knowing that the time was not yet come for humanity to truly live the mystery.

It has been over a millennia since the Apostate had conjured upon the Dol-Princess and her Prince Thiyennen the Bloodlust, thus planting a seed of distrust between human and Tarma.

And now the Apostate had suggested that the Tarmi were the Fallen Ones so often mentioned in the Eastern Legends of humanity, and they would bring only grief and woe to the good people of the world. Days were dark indeed and the people began to live in fear of the ancient Dalni and the Teachers who answered to them. The Tarmi retreated to the mountains and forests of Europa. They abandoned Khemeth, for it was awash in confusion and strife, the kind they were unable to quell or cease altogether without looking like the tyrants the Apostate portrayed them to be. Much anger was directed at the Tarmian progenitors of Khemeth. The old symbols could no longer be read and were held in contempt by the humans who dwelt there still. But the Apostate read and understood the history of the Ancients, and he learned of the Twin Force of futility known only as Belien Tuthalidon.

And, from the fortress of temples and chapels contained in what was once Troy, the Apostate spread rumours that the Tarmi had brought with them the undying evil of which they themselves were an intrinsic part and worshiped without question. And they held humanity in thrall with their blasphemous teachings.

“See ye the true power of the Tarmi as they lurk in the night, feeding upon the blood of your Kith and Kin,” he proclaimed, using Kelat, Thiyennen, and their Vampire Hive as examples of his twisted truth. “They are indeed Satanspawn, born of their black gods. They fell to Earth by their own admission, these fallen angels, with the stain of evil tattooed upon their very spirits. They wish to enslave us with their magicks! The Bible says suffer not a Witch to live. Can we passively sit by and let these alien creatures take over the lands rightfully ours? No! I say no!”

And, to the shock of the Tarmi, more and more people began to believe in the Apostate. He built armies of Holy Men who marched throughout the country converting the folk to hate and fear the Tarmi and their human followers.

A great hopelessness fell upon the land for, as the Apostate spoke of Belien, Belien's futility awoke, their dark star a smear far above Eterah, drawing into it the negative adoration of humanity. And Belien Tuthalidon grew thrice stronger than before, being redefined by the words of the Apostate and the blind faith of his followers, and the Twins of Futility struck down Omanola and Thessalonika with plague and starvation. Humans throughout the countryside praised God for this act against the Evil Ones even as they themselves fell to pestilence, while the Apostate smiled, knowing that he had won.

And so the Tarmi of the fields and forests fled Westward toward the sanctuary of Meybhelahn, their human companions fleeing with them. But the Apostate desired the Tarmi utterly destroyed, so he called forth a great army composed of his most devoted servants
The leaves were painted and fell on chill days as the men came from throughout Europe. They were tall and pure zealots, untouched by woman and clad in the white of the Apostate. And they pursued the Tarmian procession, seeking to crush them before they reached Meybhelahn.
Two weeks did the White Army follow the Pilgrims. And it was that on one cold evening, as the Tarmian Pilgrims reached the Silver Gates of Meybhelahn, the White Army fell upon them. Immediately both Tarma and Human blocked the Gates so that none of the White Army could enter. A great slaughter ensued as the White Army laid waste to the Pilgrims. But the Tarmi would not fight. Through their tears and their terror, the Tarmi sang, returning to the Language of Old.

For it was song that was the first language and would be the last for any sentient being ever conceived in Existence to utter or to hear.

And Meneterah heard their beautiful music, and tasted their blood upon Her bosom, and She wept for what was lost. Now, it was always said that when people can hear the Earth cry, great and terrible things occur, for the Earth is our Mother and weeps always for Her children in times of joy as well as in times of sorrow. Eterah's weeping was heard throughout the land. The White Army ceased their purging to stop and listen to the ethereal weeping.

Never before had such an incredible sound been heard amongst the mortals of the Earth.
A heavy full moon illuminated the tragedy below. It was the first Moon of Autumn in the year 762 c.e. And as the Earth Mother wept, the blood of the slain ones rose in torrents and bathed the Full Moon. Before the Pilgrims and the White Army there appeared the Mother Mnemiva, Starry Kessilon, and Dark Vaadel, Mistress of Death.

Kessilon, Patron Goddess of the Tarmi, drifted to the Pilgrims and, enveloping them with starlight, sang. But Vaadel hovered over the cringing White Army, paralysing them with Her terrible beauty and the promise of swift and terrible vengeance.

Mnemiva spoke and Her voice was as a song:
"Ye of Eterah, remember always what it is that thou hast beheld on this night ~ the Night of the Blood Moon ~ for this ends the Age of Wonder, where Human and Tarma lived in harmony and magick. The Tarmi and their people shall pass from this realm to a place where only the faithful may someday follow. Humanity must relearn what it has lost under the dominion of the Apostate. But know this, o ye followers of Futility and Fear: the Full Moon before the Festival of Summersend shall forever be named Luma'Rhos, the Blood Moon, to remind thee of the Age thou hast ended with thy swords of hatred and spears of distrust. It is to remind thee that no one ever kills for God, but for those who deify themselves for the sake of power over others. With this crusade, thou hast sealed the fate of thy kind to always walk in darkness and fear, to be once-borne, to never see the Mantle of the Universe save by My Grace. Go ye back to the Apostate and tell him that his reign shall thrive for now, but that the Blood Moon shall loom yearly as a promise that My Children shall return to replant the Groves and sing to the Spirit which embodies All."

Mnemiva bade Vaadel release the White Army and they ran screaming and weeping into the hills, dropping their weapons as they fled.
And, as Mnemiva turned to the Pilgrims, Kessilon opened the Silver Gates of Meybhelahn, the Blessed Isle of the Tarmi.

"My Children, My Kinsfolk," Mnemiva whispered. "For thee Luma'Rhos shall represent thy fallen comrades martyred here by those grown blind to thy beauty. It shall herald a time when the Faithful may reach thee, for it will be when Luma'Rhos shines that soon the Veil shall grow thin and the Gates shall be revealed to those who can See. Welcome those who remember Our Ways, for it shall be these stray away children who may pave thy way back to this realm in some future bright with music and magick. But for now, go ye into Meybhelahn, be safe and happy, for the Andera love among thee and within thee always."

And so, under the moon awash with their blood, the Tarmian and Human Pilgrims entered into Blessed Meybhelahn ne'er to return until Humanity reclaims our beauty, our magick, and our Inner Song. So look ye to the Blood Moon, the full moon of October. The Veils grow thin and, in the Darkness, there is a Song.

Current Mood: depressed
Current Location: Home
Current Music: Syntax - Destiny

I'm finding the birth of a lot of things today. It must be the 10-year Paper Bag Jubilee Effect. But this one, it actually predates the Tim/Chalice connection by about 6 years or so. It's the song, the actual version of the song, that gave me the first bones of the Tarmian language (which I think I actually put in one of the Relics books, but I can't remember for sure and I don't have my files right now). I can remember the words, though.

Tarmalae Tarmalah
Charledael am pfillah
Par tima sil llomil
Tarmalae Tarmalah

Tarmalae Tarmalah
Charledael am pfillah
Par tima sil llomil
Tarmalae Tarmalah

Chel Ghathrim ampa tur llinel antan
Tur llinel llomil
Chel Ghathrim ampa tur llinel antan
Tarmi am t'homil

Tarmalae Tarmalah
Charledael am pfillah
Par tima sil llomil
Tarmalae Tarmalah

Tarmalae Tarmalah
Charledael am pfillah
Par tima sil llomil
Tarmalae Tarmalah

Chel Ghathrim ampa tur llinel antan
Tur llinel llomil
Chel Ghathrim ampa tur llinel antan
Tarmi am t'homil

Tarmalae Tarmalah
Charledael am pfillah
Par tima sil llomil
Tarmalae Tarmalah

Tarmalae Tarmalah
Charledael am pfillah
Par tima sil llomil
Tarmalae
Tarmalah

It was years later before I learnt it was a Henry Mancini theme for an Irish-based film.

Current Mood: indescribable
Current Location: home
Current Music: silencia

This must be Channeled Languages Day. Whilst trawling through the Word files on my external hard drive, looking for an old Cadmus Pariah drabble, I happened upon this poem and it's Tarmian translation. I don't even remember doing this! I'd never thought about 'The Sanctity of Shame' perhaps being a Gideonite prophecy, but seeing it in Lasha Talourah, it takes on a whole different tone, and I can hear Gideon reciting it. It could very easily be a song foretelling the coming of Cadmus Pariah. Hm.

The Sanctity of Shame

A thousand years the Whisper drifted, singling out its souls
Those who heard its message threw their bodies on the coals
A thousand more it breathed its ineluctable refrain
Into the ears of hopelessness
The Sanctity of Shame.

Abomination spake its tongue, this Whisper of an Age
Forgotten by the Idiot, the Maiden, and the Mage
Its power is Unknowing for, unknown, there’s no defence
Derision breeds destruction breeds the child and its offence

And so begat the Whisper, twining silent in the dark
To bring the babe a nightmare and a tremour of the heart
The stain of blood on urgent lips from whence the Whisper came
The sacred song of sacrifice
The Sanctity of Shame.

©Angelina Evans 26 March, 2001

In Tarmian (Na Lasha Talourah)

Daen Aladėah Ůladhumu

Aen cantla dushiaru daen talouret pfagrin, selaegwarinen ėa
Daen ėaveh sel’talour aerendh kevia furstano
Aen aracantla kes wipfannet ket alushara talourahvha
Na’vha daen ela tuthalidhu
Daen Aladėah Ůladhumu

Avorumha talouran talourah, daedh Ae Talouret
Avaasėan nur daen Sim’vharia, daen Kesret, ů daen M’hash
Ket’a tes i Nu’ot pfȯr, nu’a, naen wardha’an
Redisonem konsaef andrer konsaef daen pwaer ů ket’a poeln.

Ů vae’ konsavvan talouret, salethri’ natalour na thorli
Pradannan pwaer aen fasma ů craidho’isgosha
Daen sa’an taengla’n’ ůrshin twel pra yon Talouret han
Tsachraas imnan’talourmenu
Daen Aladėah Ůladhumu.

Current Mood: calm
Current Location: home
Current Music: Razed In Black - Master (Hard Mix)

If all goes as planned August will be the month of the release of the second installment of The Vampire Relics, entitled The Blood Crown. With breathtaking cover art drawn by Art Center’s Amanda Cook and with plans for a for a future kindle, we here at Fey Publishing is very excited about the story and wonderment to come. Unlike The Chalice, The Blood Crown will focus primarily on the two vampires Cadmus Pariah and his arch-nemesis Orphaeus Cygnus as they travel by foot from Jerusalem to Rome to retrieve the second mysterious relic that is sacred to the Vampire Great Hive. Throughout the story, we will learn more of the ancient alien Elfin Tarmi, and their role in human development throughout the long ages.

We will also learn how Cadmus came to learn of the Blood Crown and the horror he enacted on another to acquire this knowledge. Not for the light of heart, The Blood Crown is a necessary and important story that connects both the first and the last of the The Vampire Relics trilogy. We hope you enjoy it.

Current Mood: excited
Current Location: home
Current Music: U2 - Bullet The Blue Sky

Beginning with the first full moon after Samhain.

Daen Luma Cae'fali'fin Klelurenin Jonnsa ~ Tale of the Blood Moon~~ Written
Daen Luma Phaedhrys Jonnsa ~ The Tale of the Falling Leaves Moon ~~ Unwritten
Daen Luma Mer'adhan Unahn Jonnsa ~ The Tale of the Long Nights Moon ~~ Written
Daen Luma Cae'kessilon Jonnsa ~ The Tale of the Snow Moon ~~ Written
Daen Luma Tanis'serra Jonnsa ~ The Tale of the Wolf Moon ~~ Unwritten
Daen Luma Dhrys'Loma Jonnsa ~ The Tale of the Budding Trees Moon ~~ Written
Daen Luma Fwaish'Loma Jonnsa ~ The Tale of the Storm Moon ~~ Written
Daen Luma'Lieno Jonssa ~ The Tale of the Hare Moon ~~ Written
Daen Lumak'wish asi Jonnsa ~ The Tale of the Strawberry Moon ~~ Written
Daen Luma Me'Adhe Jonnsa ~ The Tale of the Barley Moon ~~ Written
Daen Luma'Mai Tse Jonnsa ~ The Tale of the Corn Moon ~~ Unwritten
Daen Luma Shaewemi Jonnsa ~ The Tale of the Harvest Moon ~~ Unwritten
Daen Luma Meybhelahni Jonnsa ~ The Tale of the Moon of Meybhelahn (or Blue Moon) ~ Unwritten

Now it's just a matter of finding the manuscripts I've already written. Oy.

Current Mood: excited
Current Location: home
Current Music: Shriekback - Hand on My Heart

After this work of science and magick, folk from around the empire of Khemeth flocked to Telhumethiel’s laboratory so that he could help them see better. He made only a few pairs of spectacles before moving on to other studies. But the people kept coming in droves, begging Telhumethiel to help them in their various afflictions.

Telhumethiel heard them and decided to focus on the medical sciences of alchemy. He studied the blood primarily, at first only taking a few drops from willing test subjects.

But eventually that was not enough for Telhumethiel. He began capturing some of the wild beasts that lived in the vicinity of Khemeth, caging them and running various, taking tests great amounts of their blood. When they died, Telhumethiel buried them in a small chamber within his laboratory, for he knew the Tarmian teachers would not condone his work. They taught never to harm or kill, but Telhumethiel had done both in the name of his alchemical explorations.

After some time and many animal deaths, Telhumethiel produced some medicines to help the humans who constantly clamoured for his genius to heal them. He swelled with pride when they celebrated his name in the streets of Khemeth. And he felt he could do much more if he graduated his test subjects.

It was then that Telhumethiel began to take humans into his laboratory. He picked them out from the throng waiting to be healed and he took pints of their blood, studying the various aberrations therein. His reasoning was that he could do so much more good if his subjects were of the same species as the crowds waiting at his door to be healed.

But Telhumethiel was not torturing humans and creating new medicines and healing methods out of a desire to heal; he was breaking the Tarmian laws in order to better glorify himself. And he began to enjoy administering punishments to his test subjects who cried too loudly or begged to often. Eventually, his subject would finally escape the alchemist’s lab by dying and Telhumethiel the broken person in his secret chamber of death, and bring in new test subjects.

Telhumethiel’s primary teacher, Fer’Jinn, visited his student unexpectedly and saw the bound humans, battered and bloody, begging for release. He released the humans and, as they ran from the lab, Fer’Jinn admonished Telhumethiel for his crimes, telling him that his practices were wholly intolerable and that he would be banished from the school.

“Not if they don’t know about it,” said Telhumethiel, and he used his advanced knowledge of alchemy to capture and bind Fer’Jinn. It was at this time that the promising young student performed deliberate acts of horror upon Fer’Jinn’s body. He took some of the Tarma’s blood, studying this sacred fluid with great fervour, learning the secrets of this sacred race.

After three days of agony, Fer’Jinn finally escaped the laboratory in Telhumethiel’s absence, running as fast as he could to the college palace. He told of Telhumethiel’s crimes and the high council of Khemeth bade Telhumethiel to come before them.

Standing before the high council, Telhumethiel was cast out of the College of Khemeth and denied entry to any other Tarmian school.

“This matters not to me, Telhumethiel said to them. “I have seen the sacred blood and made note of its song. I’ve seen and mapped every tiny nuance of human blood. I know everything there is to know about any of you and I can use that to heal or to punish. If you won’t allow me to continue my studies here, then punishment is the only answer. How dare you try to wield power over me? Some day you will know the power I possess. I can make disease as easily as I can heal it. What will your little lap dogs think when the Tarmi are defenseless against me? If it’s the last thing I do, I shall sunder the Tarmi and humanity. They will bow to me, the humans and utter curses at you. What will you do then?”

“You speak such things with pride and hatred in your heart,” Fer’Jinn said. “You are banished from this realm. Banished and called Apostate.”

So it was that the Apostate was utterly banned from the realms of the Tarmi.

Current Mood: apathetic
Current Location: home
Current Music: Shriekback - Bittersweet

This is one of the most beautiful songs on the planet. It inspired the Tarmian ability of Singing the Sails. This is not the version I have, but any version of the song is heart-wrenching and breathtaking.

Current Mood: awake
Current Location: home
Current Music: Muse - Supermassive Black hole

Aunt Tudi and I have some errands to run later. After that, though, I have some things I want to do.

I've begun a new quote renovation, taking old quotes and giving modern interpretations, usually Sithly in nature, 'cos that's how I roll yo.

I'm also going to be writing a thing for the mods on TJB on how to deal with 'problem children' on the forums and on their networking sites. We're all being friended and followed from You Tube to Twitter and, sometimes, it gets little hairy with some of the more obnoxious Nerfs. Since I've had experience with folks like this in the past, especially whilst working in The Pit, I'm gonna impart what knowledge I have regarding this to the mods, one of which is relatively new to the net and are a little freaked out by what she's recently had to deal with. I expect things are only gonna get worse in the respect with the release of the next couple of episodes of The Joker Blogs. Tasks will be involved, so things are sure to get crazy.

The next part of The Blood Crown is for Kelat to pass on to Orphaeus the body of knowledge she carries within her infinite memory. He'll be come the keeper of all the Tarmian history and wisdom in relation to the Tribes of Thessaly, making him the first male to hold such sacred knowledge, and the first human. I think his title won't be Father of Memory, but Bard of Memory. In Tarmian, the word would be Kelat'lihar'vha, which essentially means the Singer of Memory. The memories will come unbidden to him as they are needed on the journey to and quest within Rome. Cadmus will be furious that he must depend on Orphaeus for knowledge they need for the success of their venture, but it won't matter because this ability Orphaeus possesses will be the one thing that will keep him alive in the presence of such a volatile and vicious Vampire.

I'm thinking of seeking collaboration in turning The Chalice into a screenplay. The book was always a movie in my head first. I'd had the thing cast, the person I wanted to score the film, and possible directors. I never stuck with one director, because none of them seemed just right for maintaining the vision I wanted. Maybe Peter Jackson, but I'm not sure he'd want to move away from the central goodness he tries to instill in his films, even though he comes from a gory, ridiculous background. Neither one really fits The Chalice anyway. Sure there's fantasy and blood, but neither really fits into the Jackson world. I need a director who has a hint of sociopathy, who can tap into the soul of the Cadmus character and allow the actor to bring him out in all his horrible glory. Personally, I'd like Ed Kowalczyk to play Cadmus Pariah. After seeing the 'Freaks' video, I really think he could pull it off, and he's had acting experience before, having appeared in The Fight Club.

I added that extra video to show his stage presence. He has that hypnotic charismatic power over his audience that I've described in Cadmus more than once. I think he'd be a dead ringer for the Cadmus character. Of course Barry would be my first pick, but I don't think he'd be willing to do that and, honestly, he's too old for the young Vampire now. Not that he doesn't still look uncannily young for his age, don't get me wrong. I just wonder if Ed could do a British accent and if he'd be willing to work with Barry Andrews in the creation of the character for screen. And, of course, Barry would have to do the songs for Magnificat. I'd like for Danny Elfman to score the film.

Gods listen to me. I talk like it's already a given, and I still don't have anyone who could help me make it into a screenplay. Pathetic much? I'm way too much of a dreamer.

Speaking of music,

booraven22 sent me a bunch, including "I Like It" by Moby. I was listening to it while on chat with one of the TJB mods,

luvthyjoker, who also happens to be a fantastic video editor who shows her fine work at her You Tube channel. I sent the song to her with the message "Nerfs the world over would worship at your toes if you made a tribute video to this song." Well, she did. And I've been laughing uncontrollably ever since. I'm not posting the link here because that'd just be wrong of me, and I feel dirty enough as it is. Anyway, that's a lot of what I did yesterday, just cackling at the absurdity of what we'd done. I blame

booraven22 for sending me the song. I have to blame someone.

These new meds are kicking my butt. I fell asleep during Knowing last night, so I need to watch the rest of that. For now, though, I think I'm gonna have another lie down.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Location: home
Current Music: Radical Face - Welcome Home

Strip-mined my YT channel again. Pretty soon nothing will be there. It'll just say 'Cliffs of Insanity' and have the "Captain Cook" video on it. And then it will just blink out of existence, like stars near a black hole, a mere minor memory.

Aaaaand, the words aren't coming to me today. So I'm working on The Blood Crown lexicon and pronunciation guide. I wish I had the ability to write out the pronunciations correctly with all the accent marks, like in the dictionary. Then again, I can't even use the accent marks designated for half the Tarmian words used in the book. There's no way to do it. I've delved into all sorts of Unicode charts and the characters I need just aren't there.

Aunt Tudi wanted to go to Spartanburg today, but I talked her out of it. I'm being particularly reclusive today. Eventually, I'll become a full-on hermit, grow a long beard, and yell unintelligible curses at anyone who comes near my cave. It's not too far in the future, I swear to the Mighties.

Current Mood: frustrated
Current Location: home
Current Music: Citizen Cope - Pablo Picasso

I got to sleep for six overnight. It's my Moon. I always get the Moon Sleepies. But I woke up feeling like deep fried ass with some Garmonbozia on the side. I'd prefer to curl up in a ball and nurse my aching body, but I have to take Aunt Tudi to the doctor at 2:30. And, when I get back, the writing needs to continue.

I'm really struggling with the story of Kelat's mother for some reason. All this is really old source material in my head that I've never written down. It seems like it's become such a part of me, it's like pulling eye teeth to get it all out. Once I have that part done, it should be smooth sailing with the arrival of Orphaeus, at least for a little while. I'm thinking about writing a prologue for the book to keep it in the same framework as the first one. So I may give the Pretani story a rest for today and work on that instead.

Aaaand, I want to look at "To Whom It May Concern" sometime today. Except for the beginning of it, the entire story is written in first person, from the Joker's point of view. What I have so far is very garbled, intentionally so to better communicate a hint of madness. Not complete madness, just a hint. Just enough to make a sociopath decide that blowing up a city is a great idea and actually following through with it. So yeah. Dark. Now that I've gotten some sleep, I feel much more comfortable exploring this again. This is not an erotic fanfiction, unless you think hate letters are erotic. If so, wait 'til you get a load of this.

Current Mood: refreshed
Current Location: home, for now
Current Music: Kajagoogoo - Too Shy

Of late, the Tarmi have been on my mind a great deal. I'd like to create a "fact sheet" of sorts here to explain what is known about the Tarmi and their brethren, the Rhyllans.

Their original species was sung into existence by the sentient universe. They were known as Deaghydhe (dYAH gih the) and possessed starry raiments for corporeal manifestation

Over time, the Deaghydhe chose more physical forms and moved away from the Song. A small number of Deaghydhe moved closer to the Song and became Deaghydhen Avatars.

The Avatars, along with the sentient universe, collaborated to create a world of beauty and wonder for the Deaghydhe. While the Deaghydhe created incredible ships to travel the immensity of space, their new world Eterah was being created. Eterah contained it's own special Song, which became an indwelling sentience unto itself, able to create new life on the young planet. This became known as Menaterah.

The Deaghydhe began the great journey from their vast wasteland of a home world to their new home. They travelled on three celestial ships: Threnodi, Konot'incalime (KUH-nuht in CAL ee may), and Sechlourendal (seh KLUR en DELL). They were travelling worlds unto themselves, created to be able to sustain life over the course of thousands of years, for it was believed that the great journey would last for several dozen generations of Deaghydhe, even though they were incredibly long-lived.

Konot'incalime ceased to move and was drawn into the gravitational pull of a large planet illuminated by twin suns. The kindred of Konot'incalime had become dedicants to the Avatar Rhyll over the course of 300,000 years. When they landed on the planet, they emerged from the celestial ship as Rhyllans and called this young planet their home, believing it was the Will of Rhyll for them to be pulled onto this planet.

The kindred of Threnodi became enamoured with the eternal immensity of the universe and chose to wander the dark places between the stars. Over time, they became what humanity commonly calls Greys.

The kindred of Sechlourendal made their way to the promised world of Eterah. They had long called themselves Tarmi, which meant Hopeful Ones, for they never faltered in their belief that they would someday make it to Eterah.

The Tarmi are the source of humanity's myths and legends of an ancient alien Elfin race that coexisted with humans for a time.

The Tarmian lifespan was typically 900-1200 years.

The Tarmi walked on the balls of their feet, giving them a graceful, birdlike appearance.

Tarmian bones were hollow, making even the largest Tarma lighter than most humans.

The Tarmian patron Goddess was Kessilon, the Star Goddess.

There were many things invisible to humans that Tarmi could see. Minor spirits sung into being by Menaterah are one of example. There was also the colour the Tarmi called chiamsa (kee AHM zah). Humans usually see a calico look, but the colour is actually a solid shade that was beyond human eyesight.

Tarmi wove fabric by singing the weave. As their melodies wove together, so did the fabric. All Tarmian clothing was made of sung cloth.

Tarmi also sang ships, strapping themselves to the masts to sing the wind into the sales. This is why so many longships of later years had the carving of a person or angel on the mast. This harked back to the days when the seas were filled with song and the pathways to Meybhelahn were open.

The Tarmi had five great empires on Eterah: Omanola, Khemeth, Thessalonika, El'Tour'Adhoa, and Meybhelahn. In actuality, Meybhelahn still exists, but is hidden from human intrusion because of the animosity that was bred between the two species, causing much death and sorrow among the Tarmi

The first Vampires were originally Tarmi.

When humans first emerged from the imagination of Menaterah, the Tarmi took them to heart and dedicated themselves to teaching this younger race. For thousands of years, humans were cradled in the wise embrace of the Tarmi, learning the magicks of the earth and the wisdoms of the stars.

This is all I can think of for right now. I'm very weary. I may add to this later on, when my mind is in better shape.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Location: home
Current Music: Rod Stewart - Infatuation (Single Version)

I've begun reading the third book in the Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn trilogy. It's been 15 or so years since I read Tad Williams' fantasy masterpiece, so a lot of the story had been lost to me. That's one reason why I re-read some books: I forget the intricacies of the plot and want to revisit that world. I should be amazed at how much I'd forgotten about this story, but I'm not. Tad Williams has woven such a beautiful literary universe, there's no way that anyone could remember everything about it, especially after over a decade has passed since initial reading. I'm truly astounded and feel as though I'm enjoying the books more this time around than I did back in the early 90s.

If you like fantasy literature and are fond of Tolkien-like epics, I strongly recommend Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn. It starts out a little slowly, with Tad Williams giving a lot of description and food-dragging in regard to bringing on "the action," but that just adds the character Simon's described boredom and frustration at his place in the Hayholt and in the world Give the story a chance and trudge through it, don't give up. It's worth every word.

To Green Angel Tower is over 1000 pages long. When I pulled it out at work, a lot of folks were ga-ga over the obvious girth of the book. They were like "Are you gonna read that entire book? How long will it take? Do you even have a life? Are you insane? Are these books any good? Don't you read romance books?" And I could go on. But I won't. Because I'm not sadistic. Heh.

One thing that really astonished me was Tad Williams' Sithi. They have so much in common with the Tarmi, these books only added to my firm belief that we both are pulling from the same ancestral memories of an alien race that shared/shares the Earth with us Earthlings. There are too many of us humans who come up with tales, song, poetry, and art that reflects an almost cellular knowledge of these incredible beings. It's just all too coincidental for my taste. There's something more going on here. I hope that, someday, everything will be made clear to us all and that the origins of our collective memory will either return or be brought to light in a manner that will leave no doubt to anyone that these individuals did actually exist (or still exist).

Current Mood: thoughtful
Current Location: home
Current Music: Queen - Play The Game

Who are these people? asked Cadmus, who stood beside the dream Kelat a ways away from this fascinating scene.

The High Priestess and Priest sitting before the altar are my parents, Cadmus. Kelat replied. Before me, my mother was Kelat'menan, the Mother of Memory, for her tribe. She was seeress, mother, grandmother, matchmaker, adviser, songstress and protectress of her people. There was none greater or more beloved than she.

But what of you?

What of me? Kelat replied bitterly. I was nothing compared to Pretani. Am nothing compared to she who led two thirds of our tribes to theTarliman after its discovery by Ladnor. She who travelled onward to settle in what would become the holy island of Meyhelahn, where still she dwells today, looking upon her daughter enslaved by bloodlust. No, my son, I am nothing like Pretani Preallanua, Pretani Land-dancer. I am...nothing.....compared to her. Nothing.

But she named you Memory. She knew that you would follow in her footsteps and become a Mother of Memory yourself. You may not dance the land, or have found magickal strongholds to protect the faithful, but you are Mother to us, the Darklings of the Earth. You are our Mother of Memory, despite my discomfort in saying such a tfing. What was your full name, Mother of Memory?

Kelat paused, looking upon the sunlit ritual calling for a gentle starsun and abundant harvest. Would it surprise you, Darkling Chylde, that this Mother of Memory fails to recall the entirety of my cognomen? In those days, names could go onward for what seemed like days, the utterances demanding many pauses for breath. The tradition continues in what is now known as Wales. But I do remember a bit of it: Lhihlhishian an'Dharwen'na ap Kelat Sheshanna'dah mar'hahiah Kessilon'mhriah Chompatta-zhah Chiams'rhawhna. It roughly translates as Lhihlhishian, daughter of the high Mother of Memory, a child dedicated to Kessilon the Star Goddess, She of the Chiamsa mane and Princess of Chompatta, the multi-handed.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Location: Library
Current Music: Oingo Boingo "No One Lives Forever"

Back in the 80's I read Communion by Whitley Strieber, and was very deeply moved by the experiences documented therein. At the end of the book, Mr. Strieber called for people who had had similar experiences to write to him. I thought about for a few years, then decided to try to write something to send to him. I never sent him my letter, but I still have the first draft of what I'd planned on mailing to him.

( Dear Mr. Strieber )
Now that he has a website, I may refurbish the letter and email it to him. What do I have to lose?

Current Mood: contemplative
Current Music: The Breed on Sci Fi

I dreamt of an Elf who was trying to procure a 12" record from an old country sherriff. The record had on it a variation of a very ancient Elfin him, which was precious to the Elf and all his kind.

The elf appeared to be a mix of Julian Sands, Peter Murphy, and the most striking features of the Tarmi (uncommon height and evident hollow bones, combined with enlongated Egyptian profiles). Every time the Elf would try to use some sort of Sith Mind Whammy to "encourage" the Sherriff the he needed to hand over te record, all the Sherriff would say was, "Hot damn, boy, you got you a pair of hootdang eyes!"

I've no clue as to what this means.

Current Mood: strange
Current Location: Monck's Corner
Current Music: BB Burdie singing along with the Oldies