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writing_shadows2010-09-21 06:00 am
darcyblake.livejournal.com) wrote in writing_shadows2010-09-21 06:00 am
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Darcy dreams.
(Guess I should mention for clarity's sake - this is re: the 'special event' dream plot that was run at the Requiem weekender)
Darcy had gone to sleep with a wicked little song in her heart and a smile on her lips; she knew that much. But now she was somewhere else entirely. Her body was flagging from exhaustion, her clothes thick with blood, and with half a dozen slain enemies and allies at her feet, the hunger was fast upon her. She dropped her sword and fell upon the last heathen vampire, sinking her teeth into her neck to find her all but an empty vessel. As the creature crumpled to the floor at her feet, Darcy swayed in a haze of red and looked about, desperately thirsting, trying to claw back her mind from the Beast that roared inside her. As her eyes locked upon her Lord, but five feet away, feasting a hungry gaze upon her own neck with a feral growl, she was remotely aware of the fight ensuing above. The mortal hunters were battling the demon that had stolen her blood and awoken her Beast, and she knew who fought among them – she could hear the fervent shouts of hellfire and damnation. But it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing but the blood and the Beast. Hungry as she was, a flicker of hesitation crossed her as she looked upon her Lord again. She did not know this person, and yet she felt such friendship and loyalty tugging somewhere inside her, a feeling she couldn’t place. In the blink of an eye, the world went dark as a blade sank deep into her ribs and teeth clamped on to her throat, draining the last drop of her heart’s blood, sending a burning wave of anguish flooding through her, mixed with something darker. She felt herself slipping.
Darcy awoke abruptly, clutching at her throat, her pale fingers sinking gently into the open wound that ached in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. She felt frightened, and angry, and betrayed. She lay there for a few moments, grasping at the fast-fleeting tatters of the dream. Suddenly acutely aware that her bed was not empty, she turned, confused, half-expecting and half-dreading, and drew back the sheets. A swathe of long brunette hair and pale skin stretched over a pleasingly curved feminine form. She didn’t know whether she was relieved or a little upset. She slipped out of bed and tied her choker and pulled on her gloves, and stepped into the rest of her clothes. Then she walked around to the other side of the bed and drew back the sheets sharply. Her companion awoke with a start, then, catching a glimpse of her assailant, sat up and smiled warmly, with golden lust-filled eyes.
Darcy took a step back to give her room. “Get out,” she said quietly, in a hard, firm voice. The girl’s face fell, her brow furrowing prettily over a watery gaze. Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “NOW!”
As she sank back down on to the bed, alone, trembling, Darcy grabbed her mobile phone from the bedside table and scrawled through the numbers, looking for one in particular. When she found it, she stroked her thumb across the screen, bit her lip, and wavered. Then she thought better of it, put the phone back down and laid back on the pillows. She wasn't going to ask for help. It just wasn’t in her nature. She was above all that.
Then, in spite of herself, she cried.
Darcy had gone to sleep with a wicked little song in her heart and a smile on her lips; she knew that much. But now she was somewhere else entirely. Her body was flagging from exhaustion, her clothes thick with blood, and with half a dozen slain enemies and allies at her feet, the hunger was fast upon her. She dropped her sword and fell upon the last heathen vampire, sinking her teeth into her neck to find her all but an empty vessel. As the creature crumpled to the floor at her feet, Darcy swayed in a haze of red and looked about, desperately thirsting, trying to claw back her mind from the Beast that roared inside her. As her eyes locked upon her Lord, but five feet away, feasting a hungry gaze upon her own neck with a feral growl, she was remotely aware of the fight ensuing above. The mortal hunters were battling the demon that had stolen her blood and awoken her Beast, and she knew who fought among them – she could hear the fervent shouts of hellfire and damnation. But it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing but the blood and the Beast. Hungry as she was, a flicker of hesitation crossed her as she looked upon her Lord again. She did not know this person, and yet she felt such friendship and loyalty tugging somewhere inside her, a feeling she couldn’t place. In the blink of an eye, the world went dark as a blade sank deep into her ribs and teeth clamped on to her throat, draining the last drop of her heart’s blood, sending a burning wave of anguish flooding through her, mixed with something darker. She felt herself slipping.
Darcy awoke abruptly, clutching at her throat, her pale fingers sinking gently into the open wound that ached in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. She felt frightened, and angry, and betrayed. She lay there for a few moments, grasping at the fast-fleeting tatters of the dream. Suddenly acutely aware that her bed was not empty, she turned, confused, half-expecting and half-dreading, and drew back the sheets. A swathe of long brunette hair and pale skin stretched over a pleasingly curved feminine form. She didn’t know whether she was relieved or a little upset. She slipped out of bed and tied her choker and pulled on her gloves, and stepped into the rest of her clothes. Then she walked around to the other side of the bed and drew back the sheets sharply. Her companion awoke with a start, then, catching a glimpse of her assailant, sat up and smiled warmly, with golden lust-filled eyes.
Darcy took a step back to give her room. “Get out,” she said quietly, in a hard, firm voice. The girl’s face fell, her brow furrowing prettily over a watery gaze. Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “NOW!”
As she sank back down on to the bed, alone, trembling, Darcy grabbed her mobile phone from the bedside table and scrawled through the numbers, looking for one in particular. When she found it, she stroked her thumb across the screen, bit her lip, and wavered. Then she thought better of it, put the phone back down and laid back on the pillows. She wasn't going to ask for help. It just wasn’t in her nature. She was above all that.
Then, in spite of herself, she cried.
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