sheriffnorthman

[sheriffnorthman]

Home is Where The Silent Heart Is - @fangtastic_Pam

He had risen for the night as soon as the sun had fallen below the horizon and made quick work of preparing for the evening. The kilts and flip-flops he had worn nightly since they had arrived in Scotland were left untouched as he dressed instead in a soft knit sweater, dress pants, and even dress shoes. If anything would have tipped others off to the fact that this night would not be like the other nights of their holiday, he was sure that would have been it, but it was a special occasion, for someone of the utmost importance to him, and he would mark it accordingly.

While he drank down a bottle of blood from the mini-fridge of his room, he had exchanged a quick series of text messages with @RomanLucious. He had given his Second-in-Command a brief summary of his plans for the night before leaving the safety of and responsibility for their party in his hands. He had every confidence his Deputy would make certain everyone continued to enjoy themselves without disaster striking, and with Roman's blessing, he had switched his phone off and tucked it away, more than ready to forget it for the remainder of the evening.

From his room, he had ventured the short distance down the hall to @fangtastic_Pam's, his knuckles rapping on the wooden surface a few times before the door had opened to reveal the room's only occupant. Her eyes had lit up the moment she had seen the small box, topped with a bow, that he held in his hands, but as her hand had snatched forward to grab the gift, he had held it out of the reach of her outstretched fingers. He had smirked at her fruitless attempts to reach it, and hadn't even surrendered the present when her stiletto did its best to put a hole through both his dress shoes and his foot.

Instead, he had simply shook his head. “Not here. Not now. Get your coat. We're going out, and though I can feel you want to drag your feet, do not. We have a schedule to keep.”

She had huffed and pouted and protested and cursed. No one loved presents quite as much as his child, and the Viking was completely aware that dangling a gift in front of her only to deny her it constituted torture in her eyes, but he hadn't been deterred in the slightest. Instead, he only aggravated her further by pilfering her phone and tucking it away to join his own in the depths of his pockets.

He hadn't offered her a single hint of their plans in answer to the myriad of questions she had thrown at him while they had descended the elevator to the lobby, nor the ones that had followed during the cab ride to the airport. She had become entirely silent then, though the daggers she glared at him spoke volumes on her behalf.

Pam hated flying and he knew that. He could only chuckle.

The silence lingered long after they had boarded the private Anubis jet he had hired for the night. A few curses muttered under her breath had slipped out when the plane had taken off, and despite the fact that she looked put out to even be offered it, she had accepted his hand when he held it out to her. He was cursing right along with her by the time the plane leveled out after take off. She had broken no less than three of his fingers.

She still refused to talk to him, but that was fine by him. Words between them were seldom a requirement. He could feel every emotion that flitted through her, and he knew her as well as he knew himself.

She was aggravated and annoyed, of that there was no doubt, but beneath what she had no qualms displaying outwardly for the world to see, she was curious, anxious, and even excited. Pam was nearly impossible to surprise, and she knew he must have gone through great efforts and to great lengths to do so now.

And she definitely wasn't wrong.

She made no protests when he offered her hand to lead her off the plane when it landed a little over an hour after it had taken off. He knew she knew where they were, and her hand seemed to hold his a little tighter than necessary because of it.

He waved off the car Anubis had waiting for them, and instead led her into the night on foot. These were her streets, her home, and though they had only walked them once in over a hundred years time, he was positive Pam knew every one of them by heart.

“Did I ever tell you what it was like the first time I returned to my home after I was made vampire?” he asked, his eyes cheating over to her briefly as they walked the mostly empty and quiet streets of Brighton. “It was many, many years after my death. I was with my Maker for centuries, and he was not one to allow for such sentimental ventures. I knew better than to even ask. Even after I had been released by him, however, it took me years to actually make the journey. After I had made it, I wished I had not.”

His eyes looked up to the sky. It was a foggy night as was often the case in England, but somewhere behind the clouds overhead a full moon hung to light the sky. “I made the journey on my own,” he continued, after a moment. “I am uncertain what it was I had expected to find, but it had been a mistake to go looking for it. What I found instead was... painful. The place I had left, the people I had known... They died with me all those years ago. The passage of time had changed the landscape I had known, and it belonged to new generations I did not know and could no longer understand. Every face I passed was searched for recognition, but...” His voice trailed off as his eyes stared unblinkingly ahead of him, replaying a memory he cared not to possess, and for a long moment, nothing but silence passed between them.

Finally, he took an unnecessary breath. “I had waited too long. I was a relic that lingered long after my time. It was a harsh reality to face. Make no mistake, I did not regret my continued existence, but a single journey and a single night had aged me centuries. My home was gone and it remains gone to this day. I can return to a land that had once been my home, I can walk the same earth my feet tread in the light of day, it can be called my homeland, but it is not familiar, it is not important, and it is not mine. I can make new homes in new places with new faces, but that one-- my first-- I cannot get back. I have accepted this, but it took a toll then.”

Running his thumb over her own on their clasped hands, he could feel the conflicting emotions running through her now, but he had so much more to say, and he could tell she would let him say it now. “Eight months ago, when you first debated coming here, I was certain of two things. First, I knew you had to do it, despite your own reservations. It is something we all must face in time, especially those of us who existed so long before the Great Revelation, those of us who had no choice but to leave all we knew behind in order to keep our secrets silent. Secondly, I knew I had to be with you when you did, because I would not allow you to know the loneliness I knew when doing it myself.

“I will admit, I was concerned,” he continued. “It may no longer feel like much to me, but a century is a long time. You had such hopes, most of which you didn't even speak, but I could feel them, and I worried you would be disappointed in what you found. I should have known better,” he admitted with a small smirk. “If any vampire could appreciate the modernization of the world they had once known, it had to be you. I should have known you would have no objection to familiar landmarks being replaced by things such as shopping centers, but still, I worried. It is one thing to see a few McDonalds' amid the landscape. It is yet another to discover your childhood home has become one. Even after you confirmed the house still stood, I worried it would disappoint you.”

As they turned down the street she had grown up on, he wondered if she was hearing him any longer, or just staring at the home she had been raised in. “The elation you felt when we gained admittance to the house as “Beatrice” and “Reginald” was something I am uncertain I have ever felt from you before, yet I also know it was difficult for you. You retrieved the box of mementos we had come in search of, and it was something, but it had been your home, filled with your memories, and now, you were the stranger within it, someone who had to lie to simply cross the threshold. I did not want that for you. It seemed cruel.”

He stopped walking as they reached the walkway that led to the door of her childhood home, he turned to face her, grabbing hold of her other hand so both were trapped within his own as his eyes looked down into hers. “Since the night I found you, you have been my child, my family, and my home, and I nearly lost you last year. I doubt I would have endured the loss. I am uncertain I could rebuild again. Someone else holding the fate of my home in their hands was cruel, and there will never be words that can convey the relief I felt when you were whole and safely with me once more. You deserve nothing less than the very same.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead before releasing her hands and shoving his own into his pockets. “Did you know those humans-- the Haggertys-- had no interest in entertaining offers upon this dwelling?” he asked rather rhetorically while casually strolling up the walkway of the house. “When they were first approached with a generous bid on the behalf of an interested, supposedly-American party shortly after our trip here, they balked at it. In fact, they found it prudent to state their home was soon to be featured in the Brighton Home Journal and was, in no circumstances, up for sale,” he added with a smirk. “The interested party, however, was not deterred, and great sums of money have a tendency to speak much more loudly than words of refusal. The Haggertys have since moved into a much larger home. I hear Mrs. Haggerty has already begun to remodel it. I am sure there is crown molding everywhere.”

After reaching the door, he pulled his hands from his pockets and with them, the box he had dangled in front of her hours earlier. Holding it out for her to take and open, the key to the front door of the house laid within. “It may have taken eight months and more money than I wish to think about, but it is yours now, just as it should be. No matter where the centuries may take you, no matter how the world may change, this piece of it will always belong to you. If you are even a small fraction as thankful for it as I am to have you in this world, that is more than enough, and more than I deserve.”

Pausing for only a moment, there was only one thing left to say. “Welcome home, Pam.”

#Pam Ravenscroft #Roman Lucious

[sheriffnorthman]

As Arthur, my handknit shark, sat on my desk supervising, I made the final arrangements on a very special birthday gift. It wasn’t one that required extravagance. Gifts for those who are closest to us rarely require more than a little thought and a personal touch. I had already wrapped the...

[sheriffnorthman]

The Price of a Celebration - @RomanLucious @JulianAjax_

Fluorescent lighting was one of those things no vampire enjoyed. Obnoxiously bright and unforgiving, he could hear the steady, annoying buzz of it now and he could practically feel the artificial lighting desperately attempting to reach him as he hid behind the safety of his closed eyelids. Frowning, no other part of the vampire's body dared to move as he tried to put together the pieces of just where he was as the sun had set this evening, not to mention why, but the Viking found it a difficult task to complete when his mind felt thoroughly clouded over.

He wasn't in his bed. He wasn't in any bed he recognized, for that matter. The surface he had spent his death slumber upon was hard, unyielding, and distinctly lacking comfort. His first thought was that he had fallen dead atop a table of some sort, though he couldn't immediately recall the reasons why he would have been so careless.

A groan of dissatisfaction to his far right caught his attention immediately, if only because it took none of the mystery he had been immediately met with away, and only instead added to it. That hadn't been a sound belonging to @fangtastic_Pam, or @VampKPetriv, or even @VampyJo and @WerepireLucian. Brow wrinkling and eyes remaining tightly closed, Eric knew he should have figured out more to the puzzle before acknowledging he no longer lingered in his daytime slumber, but he just couldn't stop the question before it escaped his lips. “Deputy?”

“Sheriff.” The garbled, single word response from @RomanLucious conveyed a certain level of confusion and misery the Viking wasn't unfamiliar with, and one piece of the puzzle rapidly fell into place. The previous night they had definitely indulged in fairy blood. Given how miserable Eric felt at present and the lingering haze in his head, he'd be willing to wager it had been copious amounts of the precious blood, more than he should have, anyway.

“Shhhh. Quiet.”

The whispered command caught the Viking thoroughly off guard, especially since it sounded as if it had come from directly above him. He didn't even have a chance to express his surprise before Roman was voicing the question Eric would have himself if not so utterly confused. “@JulianAjax_?”

The answering groan was quickly drowned out by the arrival of a heartbeat and a human voice that was much too loud for any hungover vampire's comfort. “Rise and shine, boys,” the unfamiliar man's voice rang out, the sound of it echoing around the cavernous space they found themselves in. “Dinner is served.”

The ungodly clamor of steel on concrete reverberated so loudly, Eric could have sworn he could feel it in his very teeth, and reluctantly, he faced the inevitability that he'd have to open his eyes to figure this one out. Blinking his eyes open and squinting in the harsh lighting as he willed his sensitive eyes to rapidly adjust, he took in the space around them; the three, concrete walls painted a sterile color that only made the harsh lighting that much more uncomfortable, the unforgiving bunks jutting from the walls, the silver-coated bars that lined what would have been a fourth wall in any normal room...

Kicking his feet over the side of his bunk, he looked into the unnaturally pale face of his already sitting up second-in-command. “I wish this scenario was even just a little more unfamiliar to me than it actually is.”

The answering grunt of agreement had barely left Roman's lips when Eric was knocked backward, having just taken a foot squarely to the center of his forehead as AJ kicked his legs over the side of his bunk. Fanging and rubbing his forehead furiously as AJ all but crumbled to the floor, Roman laughed from the other side of the cell despite the deadly look Eric shot him, but his laughter stopped abruptly, a shaky finger pointing at him instead. “What happened to your fang?”

Ignoring as both AJ and Roman gawked at him, Eric's hand went from his forehead to his mouth, gingerly feeling one pristine fang before stalling as his finger lingered on the second. Chipped. Running his tongue over it, eyes wide with confusion, it would take a few nights to regenerate from the damage it had suffered. “I have no idea.”

“What the hell happened last night?” AJ asked as he reached for, then passed around the bottles of cold blood they had been supplied with by their “hosts.”

The silence that question was met with spoke volumes, and it showed on each of their faces as they looked between one another, each one knowing the others were completely at a loss.

“Well, what do we remember?” Roman asked in a growl of frustration as he wiped his mouth of the cheap, synthetic dinner they had been offered. “There has to be something we remember.”

“Celebrating,” AJ answered after another tense moment of silence. “We were celebrating.”

“Right, that's right,” Eric nodded in agreement, as he tried to force the hazy images playing through his mind into focus, whether they wanted to be or not. What in the hell had they been celebrating?

There really hadn't been much to celebrate as of late, not when all of Area Five was being held hostage as they were by the ginger witch that plagued them so. Granted, the witches they had brought in for aid-- @WitchyRose and @Jared_Wolfe-- had proven themselves to be worth the trust that had been placed in them, and had discovered a way to reverse the magic @BrodyKeyes had called upon. That certainly seemed worthy of celebration.

But not premature celebrating, and that was what such a thing would have been. With the lives of their loved ones still on the line until the jars that contained their existences in were hunted down, they hadn't triumphed yet. When they had, it would be celebrated by far more than just the three of them, so that definitely wasn't it.

So what in the hell was it?

“Obviously, we had fairy blood,” Eric voiced aloud, frustrated by the silence as they each attempted to summon memories of the previous night for themselves. “I think I supplied it,” he admitted after another moment with a wince that would be as close to an apology as he'd offer up to the other two present. The confession sounded accurate to him, at least. He had been hoarding a supply of the precious blood since their intoxicated undertakings during Mardi Gras, just in case he wanted or required the blissful ignorance that went with a fairy buzz, and @ClaudeCrane wasn't conveniently around to sneak a sniff of. “Does fae pack more of a punch when its aged?” The question only had a moment to hang in the air before the pow-wow of aged vampires in the center of a jail cell was interrupted by their unintentional keepers. “Let's just play along for now, see if Cataliades can get us out of this before we do anything further of questionable legality.”

It wasn't much of a plan-- it was really barely a plan at all-- but it was all they had as they faced the prospect of interrogation. It was going to be an uphill battle.

“Do you want to tell us what the three of you did last night?”

The answering silence stretched on until uncomfortable before the Deputy so eloquently offered up a response. “Do you want to tell us what the three of us did last night?”

The temptation to facepalm was strong.

Despite that, the evasive answer seemed to be all the invitation their interrogator needed. Reaching for a remote, a television screen clicked on, and grainy footage from a security feed illuminated the screen. Narrowing his eyes as he tracked the movement on the screen, Eric tried to recognize the setting while miniature versions of Roman, AJ, and himself appeared on the screen. He and AJ had walked easily through the revolving doors, while the Deputy circled endlessly until AJ realized they had lost Roman and doubled back to retrieve him.

A figurative light bulb went off in Eric's hazy mind, and with it, one of the pieces of the giant puzzle came into focus.

This was the casino.

Not their casino, or what would eventually become their casino, but the biggest one the Area had to offer at present, one they'd eventually seek to put out of business. Distantly, Eric could recall the trio passing a flask of blood back and forth between one another as they wandered the streets of Shreveport with no discernible plans for where the night might take them. The lights and activity surrounding the competition had easily drawn in the drunken trio, and the Viking vaguely remembered the three of them tossing around words about how this was research, and how they were spying on the enemy.

Needless to say, their ability to go unnoticed behind enemy lines left much to be desired.

They had wandered to the poker tables, though their journey had been slow, each easily distracted by anything and everything shiny between the entrance and their ultimate goal. It would have been better if they had never reached it, really. What had made any one of them believe playing high-stakes poker in such a state had actually been a good idea?

How many thousands had Eric lost in a matter of mere minutes? A vampire's ability to remain stoic and impassive went right out the window with a little blood of the fae in their systems, and it didn't take a seasoned card shark to recognize when any one of them was particularly pleased or infuriated by their hand. Their tells were only exacerbated when Eric kept seeing double, and had to check with Roman whether or not he actually had a hand worth playing, something his second-in-command had all too willingly done before announcing the answer to the table.

Poker had definitely been a mistake.

Fortunately, the three of them hadn't lingered there long. None of them were good losers when sober, so it was only worse when drunk, but they hadn't given up there. Instead, they had headed to the blackjack tables in an attempt to recoup some of their recent losses.

This could be identified as mistake number two.

And it wasn't because they had lost more money either. Counting to 21 had been a far easier task than schooling their expressions it turned out, and with bets the likes of which only a drunken vampire would make, it hadn't taken them long to earn back much of what had previously been lost. What had turned into an issue was their competitive nature, their inability to hold a thought for longer than a few moments, and the complete lack of will they had to fight off the urge to comply when the others seemingly commanded “hit me!”

Glancing toward Roman and AJ as the memory fully swam into focus in his mind, the Viking could tell he wasn't the only one putting the pieces together now.

As if on cue, the image on the screen rapidly turned to Eric punching his Deputy, Roman punching AJ, and AJ punching the Viking in turn. It hadn't taken long before the game had been forgotten in exchange for an unsanctioned boxing match between the three of them, at least until the casino's security had offered them the honor of a personal escort out of the building.

Dabbing at his shirt, as if he might erase some of the blood that had dried there, AJ was the first to speak up after the video was stopped. “Is that all?” There hadn't been any property damage done, and the only injured parties had been one another, and they had long since healed from their scuffle. “We won't be pressing charges against one another.”

The Viking wondered if he was the only one who followed those words up with an unspoken and internal “this time.”

“Do you think that's all?”

Tossing surreptitious glances at one another, the Deputy answered for the three of them. “It isn't usually.”

A file folder was slid forcefully toward them, and Roman clamped a hand down on it before flipping it open for the three to peruse. A quartet of grainy images taken from a traffic camera were visible within, but despite the poor quality of the photos, there was no mistaking the three blond vampires standing on one side of the road with a fourth figure atop a pedestal, looming over them.

Squinting to make sense of the graphic, AJ began, “Is that a statue of-?”

“Bubba,” Eric and Roman successfully interrupted, finished, and answered in unintentional unison, and the Viking subconsciously ran his tongue over his chipped fang.

The statue wasn't an unfamiliar landmark to any that called Shreveport home, though it had long been a bothersome one for the vampires among the city's population. When responsibility for the brain-addled vampire known as Bubba so often fell upon the shoulders of Area Five, having a statue that honored him and proudly bore the name he was far more recognizable by on it was a nuisance, especially when that name sent the simple-minded failure into an angry and confused frenzy. It was a hassle to always make certain the cat-lover was given clear instructions nightly when in the Area that took him in a different direction from the monument in his honor, but it had to be done. Too many vampire considered him too much of a treasure to lose even in the state he was in, and even Eric found himself fond. That vampire was nothing if not loyal.

Another piece of the puzzle that was the previous night fell into place.

After they had been escorted from the casino, the three of them had passed the flask of fae between them and continued their wandering. As the natives of Shreveport, Eric and Roman should have been aware of where they were, but it had been all but impossible to be aware of much more than the sweet smell of the blood they rapidly consumed, leaving it to the newest transplant to point out the monument in amusement.

Roman had rapidly clamped a hand over his brother's mouth once the name had left his undead lips, and Eric attempted to muster up enough presence of mind to explain the precarious situation. “We do not speak the name,” he had begun, as if it were a matter of life or second death. “We never speak the name. It upsets him beyond recom... recomp...” Waving a hand as he struggled over his own word, he continued. “You just can't make it better if you say it.” Crossing the street toward the statue and followed closely by Roman and AJ, he had done his best to soothe the forged being. “He didn't mean it, Bubba,” he insisted gently. “He didn't know any better. Who's a good Bubba? You're a good Bubba. You're Master Eric's favorite Bubba.”

“Somethin' is wrong with him, Sheriff,” the Deputy had whispered. Of course, whispering wouldn't have stopped another vampire from hearing, but none of them seemed to realize that, nor had they realized just how much was wrong with the supposed fourth vampire among them. “He's so upset, he isn't even movin' at all.”

Eric had attempted to shoot AJ a look that was meant to be scolding or menacing, but only really succeeded in looking slightly deranged before turning his attention back on the statue. “That is enough poutin', Bubba. As your Sheriff, I command you to come down from there at once and cease this... this... this...”

His voice had trailed off and he had looked helplessly to Roman and even to AJ to fill in the blank. Usually, any mention of the name he had known in his human life would have been enough to send Bubba into such an episode, they would have had to subdue him, then isolate him for the foreseeable future, until his agitation over the memories he was haunted by fully left his mind. This stillness... it wasn't anything like Bubba usually was. He was a fairly restless vampire. This was highly unusual.

“Protest,” Roman finally suggested, and Eric nodded dramatically in agreement.

“Protest!” he echoed with force, as if the word had been his own, and to drive the point home, his hand flew forward pointedly. Unfortunately for him, it had crashed into the sculpture roughly, and Eric had pulled his hand back to him to examine what appeared to be broken knuckles. “That was uncalled for, Bubba!”

“Show him who's boss!” AJ had encouraged, and not one to back down from a challenge, Eric had jumped up on the pedestal and attempted to do just that.

At least he had figured out something was truly amiss after his first attempt in an aggressive bite to his subordinate. It would have been truly embarrassing had it required more than that.

Rubbing his own forehead, the Viking actually wouldn't have minded if this piece of the puzzle had evaded him. “Did I damage it?”

The officer across the table only looked at him incredulously. “It's made of bronze,” he answered.

“I will assume that is a no then.” It was a good thing he wouldn't have wanted to truly harm Bubba, or the statue may not have fared as well as it had. “Good, then the only damage incurred was to my tooth.” Not to mention his dignity, obviously. “If there is a fine or something, I have no objection to paying it and then, we can be on our way...”

“That's not all,” the officer interrupted.

Eric sighed aloud heavily. Of course it wasn't.

“You went to the zoo.”

As if on cue, both Eric and Roman began checking their fingers and toes, to make sure the digits were still in tact and wouldn't require the annoying itch of regeneration. The Deputy subtly elbowed his younger brother, as if encouraging him to do the same. The suggestion was for good reason. The last time Roman and Eric had drunkenly visited a zoo, they had ventured into the crocodile pen to less than fantastic results and they had done so with @BrierFerrior_... but they had sort of left Nolan behind. Whether that had been intentional or an accident was up for debate to this day. The last time Eric had been to the zoo, he hadn't even been intoxicated, yet he had still managed to be attacked by a flock of flamingos, and it was probably a good thing @JackDanielsTB had changed @LaceyTB's mind about wanting someone to retrieve her a tiger...

“We have a tendency to do that,” Eric admitted, “as a vampire is wont to do. We will make a sizable donation to the facilities-”

“According to the statement of the zoo's security, after you entered the park, you were shouting obnoxiously about needing to find and race camels.”

To Eric's side, Roman snorted in amusement and faked a cough that sounded decidedly like “camel toe.” Eric was still bitter about the camel he had called Roman the Better breaking his big toe when they had vacationed in Egypt...

“Something you want to say about that?” the officer asked, forcing the full weight of his stare on the Deputy. If the human thought he could intimidate over a combined 2400 years of vampire, however, he had much yet to learn.

“Do not encourage him,” the Viking insisted. “He fared no better in our previous race than I. Did we find any camels?” If they had, there was little doubt in Eric's mind that there would be at least a trio of the things roaming the city, high on the blood of centuries old vampires.

There was a lengthy pause before the officer finally answered the inquiry. “No, but you found the petting zoo, and according to security, the animals have been acting strangely since.”

“Livestock,” Eric nodded once, ultimately unsurprised. So that was what was hopped up on V then. The Viking had an undeniable fondness of wrangling livestock, and he wasn't the only vampire present with a penchant for giving four-legged creatures blood in order to urge them to cooperate. “That will wear off eventually.”

“Animals don't care for vampires,” Roman covered quickly, both because there was no way any of the three wanted this human aware of what their blood could and would do, but also because three drunks breaking into a pen of animals probably happened often in Louisiana, with the perpetrators having decidedly unseemly intentions. “Sense of self-preservation tells them to run and hide. In a pen that's tough to do. They're just riled up.”

AJ nodded in agreement. “It won't last.”

Now the human turned his attention on AJ, as if he had just been waiting for the youngest vampire to speak up again. “Security followed your voices until they were finally able to corner the three of you, and they did so at the bird exhibits, where you were attempting to break into a cage of owls.”

AJ looked taken aback. “I don't think I would-”

“According to their statement, you were shouting-- and I quote-- 'free the hooters.'”

While it likely would have been prudent to maintain a stony facade, or even to feign a level of regret or embarrassment, all three of the vampires couldn't stop themselves from laughing, each one of them getting flashes of memories from their festivities at the zoo as they did. When finally having the presence of mind to find out just how damned they may have been, AJ asked, “And did I? Free the hooters?”

There was a long moment of silence before the officer shook his head. “No, you did not.”

“That sounds about right,” Eric murmured under his breath with a smirk.

“But you did do severe damage to their caging,” the officer continued, ignoring the Viking's commentary entirely.

That was a relief then. It would have certainly complicated matters had they drunkenly released some priceless, near extinct bird from captivity or something of the sort. So long as they could write a check to make amends, things were overall good and would be easy to correct once they were given the opportunity to make their phone call.

“And that is when we were apprehended then?” he asked.

But he should have known. He should have known.

“No. According to security, when ordered to freeze, you were past them and over the walls in a matter of seconds. The next call we received was nearly an hour later, when an amusement park go-kart track reported three vampire had jumped their track and made off with their karts.”

The missing hour was a little troublesome, but Eric imagined a good majority of it had been spent passing the flask of fae between themselves some more. “Now that is simply a misunderstanding,” he insisted. “Julian is a terrible, terrible driver. He ran over their barriers because he cannot keep even a child's vehicle upon the road. My Second and I could not overtake him when he was weaving about as he was, so we merely followed the leader.”

“You engaged in a low-speed chase with officers for another hour, shouting that us humans would never catch you while driving no more than 20 miles per hour. One of your arresting officers had been riding a bicycle.”

“Hmm,” Eric acknowledged with a small nod. There was really no other way to respond to that. Though he was certain he was meant to feel shamed, the Viking remained mostly relieved. This would be easy enough to make go away. No damage that couldn't be corrected had been done. “I would like my phone call now.”

“You've already used yours.”

Eric blinked once, surprised by the news. Had it been so close to dawn that Pam had been unable to reach them to bail them out? Or had he phoned Cataliades? And if he had, why did he pay the demon such a ridiculous retainer if he hadn't made this entire matter disappear already? He was free to travel during the daylight hours, after all. Maybe he called @AbigaleDawson? He did have a habit of phoning the telekinetic when inebriated, after all, but had he called Abigale, he had no doubt she would have spent the day waiting in the station and raised hell had she not been able to see them already.

Perplexed, he had no choice but to ask. “Who did I call then?”

“You put in a call for a stripper because it was this one's birthday,” he answered, gesturing, unamused, to the Deputy seated in front of him. “And the entertainment in holding left 'much to be desired.'”

So that was what they had been celebrating. Half-turning in the uncomfortable chair he was seated in toward his second-in-command, there seemed only one thing to say. “Happy birthday, Deputy. We will always have the mugshots to remember it by, but perhaps we should hope we can forget the rest again. Next time...” And there would be a next time... “You can call the stripper.”

#Roman Lucious #Julian Ajax

[sheriffnorthman]

The Words Unsaid - @fangtastic_Pam

...But not having a way to properly express what he wanted, instead he wrote, “I regret I broke my promise, Pam.” My dearest Pam, There is no simple way to express all I would like to say, yet at the same time, there is no need. You have always felt and known the things I have left unsaid whether I have wanted such or not. It has been that way for longer than most could ever imagine, but still I find I must try now, because there is no way to know how this may conclude. Make no mistake of it, I do not do what I must tonight because it is what I want, or because I have some need to play a hero. I have no such desires in my silent heart, and never have. You know better than any, my sense of self-preservation is strong and one of my more valued traits. Tonight, my sense of self-preservation is telling me with every fiber of my being that I should not leave, despite the demands @BrodyKeyes has made. Yet I find this is not an option. When I became the Sheriff of Area Five, I agreed to protect this Area of the Kingdom of Louisiana with my undead life. I avowed to defend it and to keep order. This is my duty, and I will wear it with the pride the position requires of me. I would not trade it, not even now, when it may cost me my existence. I was made to lead, but such a position comes with a price. I know you are aware of that and that you have always been aware of that, but I still must remind you of it now, now that the cost may seem greater than the reward. This was my choice, and I had made it long before the witch had ever haunted my territory. My responsibilities and obligations are but one reason I leave the safety of @VampyJo's walls, however. The most important reason is because this witch holds your life in his hands, along with the lives of others I find I care for in spite of myself, but mostly, that he holds yours. I would pay any price demanded of me to protect you and keep you safe. If I am destroyed, yet you are able to exist for centuries upon centuries, my eternal rest, damnation, or nothingness-- whatever it might be that follows this existence-- will be readily accepted, and not in vain. You are my greatest creation and you must never forget it. I knew from the first night I saw you, alone after dark, so many years ago, that I had found something and someone important to me. I could never imagine how true that would become. At the time, I believed it was your simplicity that made you so intriguing. A young human, driven by emotion I had so long forgotten, disregarding the rules to her own detriment... When I the time to reflect, I realize now how wrong I was. I was and have always been the simple one. You are far more complex. And you were so necessary. I needed you like I have needed few things throughout my long existence. I was a vampire who had lost his way, with the monotony of eternity threatening nightly to drive me to madness. It was you who saved me. You brought me a companionship I hadn't been aware I needed until I had it. You reminded me of feelings, emotions, and things I could never describe in words, that I had long believed were dead within me. You gave me life when I was unaware I even required one. Never forget these things. Carry them with you each and every night. They may not be proof of the extraordinary vampire you are, but they are proof of the extraordinary woman you are, and that may be more important, especially now, when we are being so targeted for the nature of our race. You will not struggle with that, however. You are an extraordinary vampire and I know you do not require me to say such in order to know it is true. You are of the bloodline of history's greatest warriors, and that is not an error. You belong in such a line. Whether I may be ended tonight or not, I know you will do it proud for the duration of your eternity. Of that I have no doubt. You will need to be a warrior now. You will need to summon within you all the strength that runs in our veins, because you cannot let this witch destroy you. You are my legacy, and I could not be more proud of it. The people of Area Five, my Area, my people, need you now. As your Maker, I ask you not to crumble, despite the battle that may be. I ask you to look after what I hold dear. I ask you to look after your brothers in blood, @BrierFerrior_ and even the perpetual embarrassment that is @VaughnBrennan. I know under your guidance, they will achieve something great, but they are still young and vulnerable in this existence. If I am gone, they will need you now to survive, and their survival, like your own, is the way I will carry on into the ages. Protect it. We only have one another. I ask you to look after @LaceyTB as well. She may not be mine, nor your sister in blood, but I made no secret of my desire to be the one to turn her. Treat her as if she were. She suffers now with @JackDanielsTB in this damned limbo we have all come to know too well. I ask you to help her, and that you allow her to help you. I ask you to keep @AbigaleDawson safe. For a human, Abigale is impressively resilient and able to maintain composure in bleak situations, but she is still very much so a human. She would protest protection, but her and her child require it. Her gift is valuable and rare, but that is not why she should be kept safe now. Abigale is compassionate to our kind, to the Supernatural in general, a friend to us all when we so often deserve none. She is special. It is that that the witch and so many like him seek to snuff out, and we cannot allow for that to happen. I ask you to be a guide to JoAnna. She is still new to this existence, with both a newborn of her own and a large, living family, but she will be a great vampire for centuries to come if this witch is stopped from destroying everything held dear. She doesn't require supervision or unnecessary interference, such would be an insult to the strength and capability she already shows, but she will have questions and need guidance as she continues her way through eternity, and @RomanLucious will have his hands quite full. I ask you to look after @WaylonLee_ and to let him look after you, and not solely because of my fondness for the concept of WAAM. My bear is sentimental, compassionate, and protective to a degree that has always entertained me, but now, such a thing could not be more valuable. Never would I doubt your strength, but never forget you must not possess strength at all times... Though you have always been far better at remembering that than I have. These are not the commands of a Maker, but merely what I ask... What I hope you might do for me. I have made the Deputy avow that, if things go poorly tonight, he will get himself to safety before we can both be lost. Should I meet my end tonight, I leave Area Five and the responsibilities of it in his hands, and I have no doubt he will do for it what is required of him. Help him as he needs it, but do not jeopardize yourself more than you must. My political ambitions were never your own, and, if they have now cost me everything, I hope you never make the more costly choices I have made for yourself. Do not challenge the Deputy for authority. I would not want that, not now, not ever. We have more than enough enemies. When all of this is said and done, when your existence is secured and the witch is destroyed, I hope you forge your own road, and do only what will bring you happiness. I hope you never repeat my mistakes. I hope, in time, you will become a Maker, and carry on the same legacy I have bestowed upon you. I hope there is never a night you will not walk this earth. I hope that walk is never burdened because of me. But above all things, I hope you know the place you have always held and will always hold in my silent heart. My love for you is deep and important and immeasurable. You have been many things to me since the night I found you and you joined me in this existence. You were always destined for it-- a complete natural-- and I am merely the one of infinite fortunate who discovered you first. Merely calling you my child, my progeny, is not enough and it could never describe all that you have truly been to me. You made me feel again, and it is the greatest gift I have ever been given. Whatever fate I walk towards tonight, I do it with these things in my mind, and these things in my heart. You must not follow me, you must not come to me, no matter how much you may want to. I will not risk you in such a way. Yet still, know that I regret I broke my promise, Pam.

#Pam Ravenscroft #Brody Keyes #JoAnna Maxwell #Nolan Ferrior #Vaughn Brennan #Lacey Daniels #Jack Daniels #Abigale Dawson #Roman Lucious #Waylon Lee

[sheriffnorthman]

Questions and Answers - @fangtastic_Pam @AlexiNicholis @VampyJo @RomanLucious @JulianAjax_ @ClaudeCrane

I stood face-to-face to @BrodyKeyes just one time.

It happened at @BarWithABite after we had closed for the night a few years ago. I had no idea who he was, though I could smell the presence of magic upon him briefly, before he doused my eyes in colloidal silver and robbed me of my vision along with the ability to smell anything other than the burning of my flesh. The silver net he trapped me beneath seared into my skin, creating a perfect replica of the mesh in my flesh as it burned steadily deeper into my body. I was helpless then, but he had possessed unnatural strength I would quickly discover came from abundant ingestion of the blood of vampire. He had demonstrated just how much he had abused the elixir of a vampire's existence by immobilizing me with a stake he brutally shoved through my flesh with enough momentum, the end of it had embedded in the floor beneath me. Systematically, he had drained me of my blood, robbing me of my ability to heal, along with my ability to fend off the attack. He had gloated over my broken and bleeding body before he had lit my bar ablaze with me still in it.

Pain. There had been so much pain, and there was no way to numb myself from it. I had to further break my body in order to escape the predicament the witch had forced me into. Flames licked at and burned my already bleeding and suffering flesh. The silver that had imprisoned me cut deeper still as I struggled to free myself from the net, melting through tissue, and muscle, and tendon and making movement all the more impossible still. Over a thousand years old, and I was brought to my knees by the sheer, unwavering pain the witch had so viciously and senselessly inflicted. Had I been any younger, had I been any less stubborn, I am positive I would have been finally and fully ended there, the pain had been that great.

And I would give anything for that pain again.

Why? Because I have found the absence of such pain is far more cruel than the presence of it.

When I first felt @fangtastic_Pam's pain a few nights ago, it had been odd and unexpected. I don't understand anything about spas. For all I knew, they are painful experiences for the women and the fruity fairies who frequent them. As the pain grew more intense and palpable, however, it seemed highly unlikely anyone would actually pay for such an excruciating service. The time spent waiting from when I first reached out to Pam and-- when she didn't answer-- to @BarmaidSookie felt unfathomably long. I knew with every fiber of my being something was wrong before Sookie and @ClaudeCrane ever had the chance to confirm my suspicions. Pain like that isn't imagined, nor is it intentional. My child was suffering, and I could feel every bit of it radiating throughout me as if it were my own pain and suffering.

And when the fairy delivered her, my bonded, and @VampyJo to where I waited, and I saw Pam's flesh marred by the telltale burn pattern of a silver net, I took her pain completely. She was unconscious, and I was grateful for it. I let her pain haunt me and fill me up. I let it spur me into action because I possessed the strength she did not and could not in the moment. I fought back the haunting of my own memories in order to aid her.

My blood is her blood, and I was willing to part with all I could in order to erase the damage that had been inflicted upon her. The wounds in her flesh healed one by one. I continued parting with my blood, feeding it to her, using it to mend her skin, until I simply couldn't any longer. And then, as quickly and abruptly as the pain had begun, it was gone.

All of it was gone.

But it wasn't just the pain that was gone, it was the connection I have shared with Pam since the night I unburied her in that damn cemetery in Brighton. This ever-present force that constantly strummed away in the depths of my being connecting her to me and me to her was gone, as if it had never existed in the first place.

I have never experienced anything akin to this in a thousand years time. I have lost those I have exchanged blood with before. Their ends create an inescapable void, one that is undeniably felt and painful. It is what I warned JoAnna of when she was turning @WerepireLucian. It is impossible to deny that one feels the absence and the pain of the loss, but this isn't that particular sensation or experience. This is... nothing. It is as if everything Pam is and ever was is gone, locked up and absent, and if I might dare to blink for a moment too long, she could vanish, as if she was nothing more than a figment of my imagination for more than a century's time.

If I give her more blood, I still feel nothing. I can see her there-- I refuse to take my eyes off of her-- but nothing let's me truly feel her the way I'm meant to and always have. The few times she has woken to speak, I can hear her with my ears, I can feel her with my hand, I can see her with my eyes, but there is no connection. I can't comfort her, I can't share her pain, I can't know what she is feeling, or experiencing. She is alone and I can do nothing.

I would welcome pain. I would welcome the burn of silver. I would invite a bath of flames. I would even willingly sacrifice a vital limb and endure the excruciating nuisance of regrowing it. Any of it would be better than this.

For nights on end, I have watched. I have been unmoving from her side, and I will remain so for as long as necessary, but I am helpless, more so than I have ever been before. This is beyond me. It is beyond all of us.

Tonight, @RomanLucious brought someone he believed may be capable of helping the situation, an elemental Shifter by the name of @AlexiNicholis. His diagnosis of Pam's condition and out situation with the ginger witch was grim, to say the least. It is his opinion we are fucked.

I had come to that conclusion entirely on my own and well before he entered the room.

He claimed Pam's current condition is the results of blood magic, dark in origin, and obviously nothing to take lightly. Whether or not the Shifter realizes it, I do not take my child's present condition lightly, and have not taken the threat the witch poses to my Area and those vampires who reside in it lightly.

We've hidden behind walls. We've guarded ourselves with Weres, fairies, and the humans we have come to trust during the daylight hours. We've kept our plans quiet, and between one another. We've searched steadily for the witch and have a countless number of eyes and ears out doing the same, even when we are dead for the day.

We are being held prisoner by the threat of the witch and his magic, and it has gone on for too long already. I am not afraid, and I refuse to behave as if I am. If the witch is capable of besting me once and for all, then I deserve to be bested by him, but I will not continue to hide and wait. I cannot sit and watch vampire after vampire inflicted with what it is that imprisons my child now. It's unthinkable. I would much rather urge this witch out into the open, welcoming whatever he might throw at me in exchange for the opportunity to tear him into pieces, and let this thing be ended once and for all, whatever that end may be.

But unfortunately, I heard every word the Deputy's damn fairy said to JoAnna and reluctantly, I can admit it has given me pause.

The thing is, however, how am I to trust my fate and the fate of my Area to those capable of the same things as the one who plagues it? Whether they are witches or not, it really matters very little. If they are capable of something similar, something that seems so impossible to combat, how can I truly expose myself or those who expect me and mine to protect them to it?What keeps them from turning on me and mine as well? How fine is the line between ally and enemy? If we handle it ourselves, I know we can handle it again, should a similar threat pass through, but if we are incapable of doing so, what then? Why should we trust our existences to someone who could just as easily do them intense harm?

I wish I had fewer questions and possessed more answers. I am tired of waiting and seeing, but I am more broken now than when my body has been in utter ruins, so I suppose I possess no alternative. Very, very reluctantly, I can admit to trusting the fruity fairy. At the very least, he's never transported me into the daylight despite regularly having the opportunity to do so, and I know Pam trusts him, and obviously the Deputy must. The fairy says he trusts the Shifter. The Shifter has said Pam is looking to return to her body, so if that proves to be true, I will take it from there, and reconsider my pride and position.

Until then, I'm just left to wait and see, and to pray to any god that will listen that my child and all that we share is returned to me.

#pam ravenscroft #Brody Keyes #Alexi Nicholis #joanna maxwell #roman lucious #Julian Ajax #claude crane #sookie stackhouse #Lucian Maxwell #Arianna Reinhart #Fangtasia #witches

[sheriffnorthman]

Happy Birthday, @BranCrisp.

The 54 miles between Brighton and London were long, slow, and rather boring to a vampire who was used to traveling by breakneck speeds-- even when in a vehicle-- but the taxi cab @fangtastic_Pam had hailed outside the vampire hotel in her hometown was proving to travel only at one annoying speed: reasonable. The Viking internally groaned at just how slowly the world passed by outside the window he sat beside. Pam, for her part, seemed content to take in the sight of the darkened countryside, but he was restless.

He was forgetting something, he just knew it, but he couldn't work out exactly what it was. The idea he was forgetting something seemed unthinkable in and of itself. His mind was a precise, well-oiled machine incapable of misplacing so much as a single detail, just as it had been for a thousand years. Though his mind was often a cacophony of sights, sounds, memories, information, and much more still in each and every one of his silent moments, at present, he found the jumble an annoying disarray that wasn't providing him with the answers he sought. It ate away at him, his eyes narrowing as he stared sightlessly out the window, challenging himself to work out the puzzle that stumped him now. Just what was he forgetting?

He mentally began sorting through the most likely suspects. Was it something to do with his Area? No, he had left the area in @RomanLucious and @VampyJo's capable hands. They were more than able to handle the various night-to-night things that might arise, and he knew that. With @BarWithABite out of commission and rumors of the unfortunate fate that had met many a vampire traveling through Area Five, things had been startlingly quiet and with few outsiders wandering through. If he had had any pressing matters that were meant to be dealt with at a precise time, his Deputy or the Deputy's child would have reminded him, even if it had meant interrupting the vital time he was spending with his own child as she revisited her homeland for the first time since her turning.

Was it something to do with @BarmaidSookie? Once more, the Viking internally shook his head at his thoughts. His bonded understood his undeniable need to be with Pam throughout this journey, but she would have patiently reminded him of anything he might have forgotten had she required him for something. With her focus on building her new business, he imagined her hands were quite full and her hours quite occupied, so that certainly wasn't it.

Was it the menagerie that was his barnyard collection that required his attention at present? No, that couldn't be it either. @WaylonLee_ was nothing if not a suitable cow-sitter, often content to spend hours at a time feeding his animals and providing them with company that could only be described as laid back as he indulged in the homegrown herbs and homemade alcohol he so enjoyed. He trusted his bear was taking good care of his livestock when he checked in on them, and would have alerted him if anything were at all amiss.

Pale arms crossed in front of his silent chest in frustration as he continued to try to place just what it was he was forgetting. Perhaps it was something to do with the witch hunt unfolding in Area One? No, that wasn't it either. @BrodyKeyes had been in his thoughts often enough, he seldom forgot things involving him, and though @MalcolmMcDwyer and @BradyRedmond were a little... lax in their methods and manner, they would have provided word if anything had been uncovered or come to light. And though he and @JulianAjax_ hadn't always seen eye to eye or seemed prepared to trust one another farther than they might have been able to throw the other, he believed the Sheriff of Area One would have contacted him if there was any news that concerned them both.

So what was it then? What was he forgetting? Perhaps it was something completely mundane, like the sort of things humans were concerned of when they leaved their residences. Had he left the stove on before he had left for Germany? No, he didn't use the contraption, and wasn't sure he would even know how to make it work if he tried. Had he left the house unlocked? Though he was sure that wasn't it, if he had, no one would ever make it past his irritable guard peacock so often hopped up on the blood of a Viking vampire. Had he forgot to cancel the mail? No, he never even gathered the mail when he was at home. That was precisely what day people were for. Had he forgotten to return a library book? No, he hadn't even stepped foot in a library in the last...

His head tilted abruptly to the side, interrupting his own thought process sharply. The library... No, not the library... The Bon Temps Librarian. Withdrawing his phone from within his pocket, he illuminated the digital screen with a swipe of his finger. As his eyes stared down at it, the date and time stared back in a taunting manner. In the little corner of England he found himself, it was the early hours of April 19th. Was it really April 19th already? It was so easy to lose track of time when one had nothing but time ahead of them, but how could he have been so careless to lose track of this?

In a thousand years time, Eric Northman had encountered, met, and-- on more than a few occasions-- ended a countless number of humans with a steady and unwavering indifference. Their names, faces, and existences blended together until they were little more than a gray mass of insignificance. They were uninteresting, irrelevant, and overall, not worth his attention. He had begun his existence as a vampire with an interest in dominating human life and had done so. In time, that overpowering need had given way to regarding humans with mere contempt. After longer still passed, he had come to respect human life enough not to end it simply because he could, but it still interested and concerned him very little. Humans were small, boring, and undeniably temporary.

But then, rarely, there were truly great exceptions to the rule. They were incredibly uncommon, but that made them all the greater treasures. They were unique, unexpected, and-- even if they didn't realize such a thing-- important. They were a rare and beautiful diamond, nearly lost amid a sea of worthless coal.

And a rare and beautiful diamond was precisely what @BranCrisp was.

It wasn't often a human could puzzle the Sheriff of Area Five, though many had certainly tried. Brandee had never seemed to attempt such a thing herself, but Eric found himself puzzled by her all the same. She was inordinately kind, a rarity in a world that was often cruel and uncaring. She opened her heart, her arms, and her home to both the lowliest of creatures and the most noble and ancient of beings. She didn't shun those the world would condemn, even if and when they insisted she should. She welcomed the lost, the broken, the lonely, and the homeless, regardless of the toll such a thing took upon her.

And she never sought the spotlight, nor expected anything in return for her generosity and her goodwill. More often than not, she seemed to shy away from the very idea of such a thing. The purity of her intentions was something so rare, even in a thousand years time, Eric could count on a single hand the number of times he had seen such a thing.

It was special, and it was important, and that was precisely what Brandee really was.

Jostling his carryall from the floor of the cab up into his lap, Eric unzipped the bag, his pale hand nimbly inventorying its contents by simple touch. From the very bottom of the depths of his bag, the vampire pulled out a pair of knitting needles, followed shortly by a few small bundles of yarn that had made the journey with him. In only a moment more, the vampire began knitting with well-practiced hands, one stitch after another, silently counting as he carried on.

Pam's eyes, drawn briefly away from the scenery outside her window, looked his way, and his child let out a delicate snort of amusement, but Eric didn't acknowledge it, nor stop what he was doing. His child was likely-- and fairly-- reminded of his former entanglement with a certain lifestyle's guru, but this wasn't about Martha Stewart this time. It was about someone much more dear.

The lights of London were still in the great distance as he worked on the small creation, but he knew he would finish before the taxi ride had ended. By the time he and Pam returned to Louisiana by fairy on the following night, Brandee's birthday would have passed. That wouldn't stop him from leaving the small gift on her porch before vanishing into the night, however. And even without a card, he was confident she would know just who it was who had left the present. He could afford to give her anything in the world, but the Viking believed she'd appreciate this more, even if it might be something others would scoff at.

Eyes turning to look out the window of the cab while his deft hands carried on their work, a small smile crossed the vampire's face for one human who could always make him smile. Silently, he wished the greatest librarian Bon Temps-- perhaps even the world-- had ever known, a very happy birthday, and many, many to follow.

#Brandee Crisp

[sheriffnorthman]

Dracula Disasters - @VampyJo @BiancaNorthman @fangtastic_Pam @RomanLucious @JulianAjax_

Dracula Night is the bane of my existence.

Every year, despite obvious and logical reservations, I manage to get myself excited for Dracula Night and every year, something manages to go terribly, horribly awry. There is no logical reason for me to ever convince myself that “this year” will be the great exception to the awful rule, yet every year, I succeed in doing just that, only to find myself standing in the center of some unfathomable disaster that must be rapidly righted, the weight of it resting squarely upon my shoulders. I am truly beginning to believe Dracula Night is less about celebrating the greatest vampire to ever walk the face of the earth-- @PrinceVladTepes-- and is instead chiefly about fucking things up for the Sheriff of Area Five.

But I find I am getting ahead of myself. If I truly want to chronicle the disaster that was February 8th, 2014 for myself in this journal, that I might look back on it a thousand years from now with complete clarity, I must start at the very beginning.

The idea of celebrating Dracula Night this year was not a popular choice among my progeny-- especially @BiancaNorthman and @fangtastic_Pam-- and those who owe fealty to me, and it is no great secret as to why such a thing remains true. It was only five months ago that @RomanLucious called for a gathering at @BarWithABite in order to present to us his plan to end Dracula's reign of terror once and for all. The extremely personal war between my Deputy and the Dark Prince had been waged for centuries and has shed an unfathomable amount of blood throughout its battles. Such had taken an obvious toll on not only the Deputy, but any and all of those around him. Both history and legend succeeded in capturing the Prince in one respect: no one was ever safe from Dracula's wrath.

On more occasions than I can count, I did my best to play peacekeeper between the Deputy and the Prince. Vampire law deems Dracula the one vampire who cannot be touched; the one undead life who's value exceeds all the others. While many might object to that, it's not without reason the Prince has been given such prestige and protection. Dracula has been the most ruthless and famous of all of us since he was first turned so many years ago. No man, woman, Were, Shifter, fairy, demon, witch, or vampire is safe from his wrath. From what I witnessed firsthand, the Prince sees nothing but enemies in the world. There is no reasoning with him, there is no bartering with him, and there will be no peace while he walks the earth.

For those reasons and many more, I supported the Deputy's desires to see Dracula ended once and for all. The plan Roman presented to both me in private and then to the group was sound. It may not have been fail safe, but little ever is. A small group of vampires-- @VampyJo, @WerepireLucian, and myself-- would travel to New Orleans with a small number of humans that were sure to garner the attention and curiosity of Dracula: my telepathic bonded, @BarmaidSookie, my witch @JadeChiara_ and his necromancer @WitchyHannah, Fangtasia's bartender and the only one of the two-natured I have ever embraced fully, @BrierFerrior, and JoAnna's daytime person, a simple human called @EthanBlane. We would go straight to the home of Dracula and present ourselves, making us prone to his observations and suspicions, while the Deputy would slip into New Orleans in silence with his fairy wife @ClaudeCrane and the mermaid who lived next door to them, @MermaidKendra. While the party I traveled with would draw the eyes of the Prince, the Deputy and the fairies would slowly move into place until Dracula could be cornered on his own, and his fate would be sealed with a stake through his chest.

But with Dracula, nothing ever goes according to plan, much like every single celebration in his honor held on February 8th. His steadfast devotion to having us followed in order to uncover the Deputy's whereabouts proved detrimental when Sookie and Nolan were tracked down while out with the fairies, forcing things to happen in quick succession and in a manner we hadn't accounted for. Instead of being at my side, Sookie had been forced to face down the dragon himself and would have been killed for such if Nolan hadn't taken the Prince's wrath for her. The eternity I bestowed upon him for the act was never so deserved.

And that was only the beginning of unexpected complications. The chief wrench to the plan had come in the form of @JulianAjax_. I had never heard the Deputy mention his brother before, though such is far from uncommon among vampires. The lives we led as humans are dismissed over the course of our centuries, painful reminders of an existence we held only briefly in the grand scheme of things, but that somehow never fails to fade away entirely from our memories. There is not a vampire who walks the earth who hasn't pondered at least once whether or not they could have or should have gone back to the humans they left behind, and played through the countless possibilities of what might have happened if they did. They are silent musings, never voiced aloud or acknowledged to others, yet inevitable and always self-punishing.

The memories are our burdens to carry, the price for our gifts and the existence we have been given. The memories are our ghosts, locked within the confines of our minds, never to be seen by another, though it fails to make each of us any less haunted. Yet one of the Deputy's ghosts did exist, and had for nearly seven hundred years without his knowledge, without so much as even a hint.

The sheer existence of Julian Ajax Barbarossa is testament to the true, incomprehensible evil the Prince is capable of. While it is inarguable that vampires are good with secrets, something of this magnitude, when the fight between the Deputy and Dracula has always been so personal, is unfathomable and disconcerting. What other weapons from the Deputy's past has Dracula always possessed, yet doesn't use until the opportune moment? What other secrets does the Prince keep at the expense of those who have earned his wrath?

I have always shamelessly and enthusiastically admired the Prince for many reasons, not the least of which included his ability to always be unexpected. On more than one occasion, I have been on the receiving end of a demonstration of his awful and unexpected power. Even then, I have been in awe of the vampire who is a master to us all, but this was something new and truly concerning. There is none connected to the Deputy who hasn't justifiably (at least in the eyes of the Prince) earned the wrath of Dracula. What secrets might the Prince of all vampire keep to punish us?

Because, perhaps most alarmingly, they work. I have little doubt in my mind-- and Roman confessed as much-- that he didn't stake Dracula when he had the chance simply because of his rediscovered, biological brother and the pain it might cause him to lose a Maker. The wisest thing for him to have done-- the wisest thing for all of us-- would have been to shove a stake through the silent heart of the Prince and ended him once and for all, only to then split and transport his remains to the four corners of the earth and burn them until nothing remained. Drained and bound in silver, however deep in the earth he may be buried, is simply not enough. So long as any of the Prince remains, both he and the secrets he has kept can and will threaten to haunt us.

For that reason alone, when I received the call that Fangtasia laid in ruins on Dracula Night of all nights, it was impossible not to assume that somehow, the Prince himself was responsible. Perhaps I was a bit accusing of the still newly appointed Sheriff of Area One when the news first washed over me, but I have found it difficult to look at the Deputy's brother and not see him as a simple tool and weapon of the Prince. The Deputy may trust his brother, but I haven't risen to the place I have and survived for as many centuries as I have by simply throwing caution to the wind. While the Sheriff of Area One and I may have been in agreement that both of us would burn should the treacherous events in New Orleans against the Prince be uncovered, it is difficult to believe the nearly seven-hundred-year secret of Dracula and I might share any common goals whatsoever.

But now I can admit, at least privately in the here and now, that perhaps I have misjudged him. When news of Fangtasia's destruction hit and my first thoughts went to Dracula, I saw panic reflected in his eyes not so unlike my own. I will have to make an effort to build a bridge of cooperation between Area Five and Area One, and between myself and AJ. It would suit us both well.

My club, the center of operations for Area Five, now lays in ruins. The devastation is complete and all-encompassing. Not a single wall remains standing, not a familiar sight to be found amid the rubble and debris that was only a night earlier was the most prosperous and lucrative vampire-owned business in all of the Kingdom of Louisiana. While we will inevitably rebuild just as we have when misfortune has befallen it in the past, it will require time and much effort to see to completion. There is so much to sift through and so many things we would like recovered from the ruins, though it is difficult to imagine much remains that will be salvageable. Years and years of our hard work was destroyed in mere seconds, and the suspect list is, as always, a mile long.

The human police and first responders to the scene have credited the damage to detonated explosives placed around the club. While such could easily be attributed to radical organizations such as the Fellowship of the Sun, I find it unlikely, though possible. The annoying, idiotic humans who belong to that group are obnoxiously loud with their laughable and fruitless crusade. The nightclub was empty prior to it's leveling. Not a single person was hurt, and no one has stepped forward to claim responsibility for the attack. That fails to say “Fellowship of the Sun” to me, though we will leave no stone unturned and scrutinize their movements and members to be certain of such.

Both Roman and JoAnna have stated they would accredit the witch that has plagued us for years and who has sabotaged the nightclub before. Numerous witches took effort to protect Fangtasia from magic, however, and though the means of destruction and chaos wasn't magical in origin, I am still unsure whether or not @BrodyKeyes might be responsible. My history with the ginger witch still unsettles me to this night, but I will never forget the way he had dug his fingers into my flesh and feasted upon my blood in sheer ecstasy before lighting my nightclub ablaze with me still within it. His assault had been deeply personal, chaotic, and acutely unhinged. While this undeniably feels damaging, it doesn't feel damaging in the same way.

I find myself circling back steadily to the fact that, of all nights on which it might have occurred, this attack took place on Dracula Night, a vampire holiday only the undead tend to observe, much less be aware of. If the Prince could keep his progeny a well-guarded secret for centuries, what else might he have concealed? For once, I would like nothing more than for my suspicions to be wrong. The Fellowship or other radicals would be easy to destroy, no matter the weapons of silver and stakes they might possess. The witch has already been dealt a serious blow to his operations after the Deputy, AJ, the fruity fairy, @WereDanny_, and @WereChase tracked him down and recovered his arsenal of draining paraphernalia. It's only the unknown that is deeply troubling.

In the meantime, we will regroup and rebuild. This blow, while devastating, is not the end of us. JoAnna has offered up her home as a temporary base of operations, and though it won't meet our needs for long, it will suffice for the interim. Area Five has always been prosperous and self-sufficient, and I will not let such a thing change now, not so long as I remain Sheriff. Bianca and Pam will undoubtedly have ideas for how we might rebound until Fangtasia can return to its former glory. This will not succeed in besting us.

War has been declared and the first shots have been fired, but they won't be the last, and it won't be over until every party responsible meets their ends once and for all by our hands and our fangs.

#Dracula #Dracula Night #Fangtasia #JoAnna Maxwell #Roman Lucious #Bianca Northman #Julian Ajax #Pam Ravenscroft #Sookie Stackhouse #Lucian Maxwell #Jade Chiara #Hannah Robinson #Nolan Ferrior #Ethan Blane #Claude Crane #Kendra Ryan #Brody Keyes #Witches #Danny Ross #Chase Houston #Fellowship of the Sun #Alexi Nicholis #Dakota Ryan #Aurelia Keyes

[sheriffnorthman]

An impatient hand roughly slammed against the leather of the steering wheel, eliciting a sharp and annoyed honk to match the sharp and annoyed stream of curses that poured from a pair of ancient lips. What was it about humans and a little inclement weather that made the entire species drive as if they were better suited for modes of transportation that included training wheels rather than ones that consisted of tons of steel? He was already running late-- a fact he was certain would fail to go silently unnoticed by Pam-- and the incompetent driver's littering the streets of Shreveport were not helping him make up for his lost time. Lowering the darkly tinted windows of his Corvette just enough to allow room for his fist to emerge from within it with one, choice finger extended, he weaved in between lanes and cars with the careless air of someone who had never feared a high-speed collision for even a moment of his existence.

The sight of Fangtasia's full parking lot only managed to slightly improve the mood that had rapidly settled over the Viking Sheriff of Area Five. It seemed every fangbanger in the Area had made a point in coming out on the last night the club would be open for the holidays, just as he had anticipated, which meant the take for the night would be vast, but not even the invisible dollar signs flashing in front of his eyes could distract him from the ridiculous noise emitting from within his club. Slamming the door of the Corvette hard enough to shake the vehicle from it's front headlights to the BLDSKR plate on the back, his arms crossed in front of his chest as a scowl settled onto his face. For a brief moment, Eric humored the idea that his always-perfect hearing was somehow choosing this very moment to fail him, but the only thing more absurd than that notion itself was the sound of Alice Cooper singing Santa Claus is Coming to Town floating through the night air.

“Really, Pam?” he asked into the ether, his head shaking slightly from side to side in disapproval. His progeny was really going out of her way to push her luck lately. He had retched his way though her “Kiss a Vampire” night, and he had even tolerated the obnoxiously adorned tree she had insisted on putting by the throne he spent his hours sprawled upon, but this was going too far. If he didn't put a stop to this right now, it was only a matter of time before she broke out those damn gingerbread men yet again... a thought that very nearly made the Viking shudder. Christmas was not a holiday he had ever celebrated when alive-- his own customs had been lost to the ages or claimed and re-purposed by those who championed Christmas until they no longer resembled the things they had truly stood for-- and though he had embraced the makeshift winter holiday for the benefit of his progeny and his bonded, Eric would have far preferred the season and all that went with it passing quietly rather than the loud, exaggerated displays that had become standard. Now, it seemed, not even Fangtasia was free from the clutches of Christmas.

Throwing open the back entrance of the club with more force than the task required, his bright blue eyes immediately turned upward, examining the sprig of mistletoe that hung from the center of the door frame overhead. Growling aloud as he plucked the thing from where his child had hung it, he thrust the decoration into Chow's hand as the Asian vampire who doubled as the club's resident vampire bartender, approached. “Don't get your hopes up. That's not any kind of invitation,” he warned, his foul mood obvious as his fangs peeked out from behind his lips. “Get rid of that. If Pam so much as senses where it might be, I will stake you with a pair of chopsticks. Do not doubt my sincerity. Doing so would be the highlight of my night.”

There was little doubt in his mind it would be, too. As his eyes turned to the door that separated the offices and store rooms from the front of the house, he knew Pam was waiting on the other side of it, and she was probably holding a Santa hat she would insist he needed to wear because “the bloodbags would eat it up.” He had long ago recognized and accepted these things were more for Pam than the business itself, so he would flatly deny her request. She would, in turn, remind him he was late, that the club was packed, and he owed her this one “teeny-tiny” thing she just knew would be a “big hit.” Again, he would refuse, but she would pout and threaten his credit card with a limitless number of last minute splurges before they left for Sweden. He'd inevitably acquiesce. That was what was waiting for him on the other side of the door.

So he did the only sensible thing to do when facing such an inevitability: Procrastinate.

Taking a sharp turn to the left, the vampire deftly slid the key into the lock of his office door, the quiet click of it disengaging nearly lost to his ears amid the grotesquely performed carols thumping at ungodly levels only a short distance away. Before his hand had even flicked the light switch into its “on” position, the vampire knew something was amiss. His nostrils flared, taking in a scent that was familiar, yet surprising to find amid his inner sanctum of Fangtasia when not accompanied by the supernatural woman to which it belonged, and even without the aid of the florescent lights that hung overhead, the Sheriff had no trouble spotting the unexpected addition amid the usual clutter on his desktop.

A flurry of questions flitted through his mind in an array that would have left many dizzied by their number and their speed. How had the witch managed to enter his office? Where had she gone since doing so? Had all the offices been broken into? Or was it only his? Why was he even paying for security when they always proved inept at their jobs? Question after question made its presence known before being rapidly answered by himself or shoved aside for reflection at a later time. When his mental inventory of his office was out of the way and Eric was satisfied nothing was out of place, and after he had calculated the likelihood of this being a trap as minimal at best, the Viking closed the lingering distance between him and his desk in a rush, his insatiable curiosity determining his speed.

Looking first for a card, the Viking found no note accompanying the unfamiliar basket, not that one was necessary. The office belonged to him, and the scent of the witch who had entered it belonged to Mena Grazie. If any doubt lingered in the back of his mind as to whether or not the unexpected bundle was meant for him, it was erased as he lifted a pair of plastic dolls from the top of it. How he resembled this “Ken,” Eric failed to truly understand when he was far superior to any fabricated child's plaything, but that had never stopped the witch from asserting with great confidence that the two were one in the same. Eyebrow arching as his eyes trailed over the silver-suited, male figurine and his busty, blonde counterpart, he could only shrug to himself. “I am certain it would be a great honor to be akin to me, but I just don't see it,” he announced to the inanimate pair, before laying them to one side of the basket to unearth the next unanticipated treasure within.

Lifting a pair of knitting needles with one hand, and a book called Vampire Knits with the other, the needles were aptly rotated between his fingers as his eyes quickly scanned through the pages of the book. A TruBlood bottle koozie? Eric couldn't stop the quiet chuckle that escaped him at the potential project. He knew what he'd be giving Compton as a present whenever the occasion called for it. The mainstreaming Civil War relic would need one for every blood type, not to mention the Werewolf hat. No matter Bill's attempts to convince Eric otherwise, the Viking was positive Bon Temps' resident bore of a vampire was-- without a doubt-- “Team Jacob.”

Marking the pages with the needles, he set the book down to join the brightly beaming dolls, his eyes scanning over the assortment of vividly colored yarns that made up the remainder of the basket. Trailing a hand lightly over the soft yarn, he picked up one of the hanks of yarn at random, lifting the twisted bundle to his nose curiously. The faint, lingering scent of the dye met his nostrils, which only further served to pique his curiosity. Examining it more closely, the vampire could easily tell the yarn had been crafted by practiced hand and was not the product of impersonal factory assembly lines as was so common and convenient. Soft and carefully spun, the vampire thoughtfully returned the bundle to the basket before digging through it with further, unabashed curiosity to see what other colors might lie beneath the ones laid at the top.

Out of the corner of his eye, the ribbon that had been tied to a handle caught his eyes, the faint words etched upon its surface fully seizing his attention from all else. Pale hands carefully untied the ribbon-- which had the distinct feel of magic about it-- as if to do so in a rush might make the words disappear. “Delad glädje är dubbel glädje,” he read aloud. “Och delad sorg är halv sorg.”

“What was that?”

Turning sharply on his heel, the Viking's eyes narrowed at the vampire who stood in his doorway, fangs extending at the interruption. If Chow was aware he had potentially earned his Sheriff's wrath, he showed no signs of it, instead tilting to one side, as if trying to see around his thousand year old senior. “If I meant for them to be understood by you, I would have spoken them in a language you are capable of understanding,” Eric answered coolly, his arms once more crossing in front of his chest. “And if I meant to be eavesdropped upon, Ginger wouldn't be nearly brain dead from the effects of glamor. We may not be capable of doing such to one another, but there is more than one way to get such a lesson across.”

Standing straight once more, Chow cleared his throat. “My apologies, Sheriff. It won't happen again.” The words didn't stop his dark eyes from traveling from the Viking's eyes to the ribbon in his now clenched hand before returning to the Norseman's. “Is everything as it should be?”

A single, curt nod was the offered answer. “I trust the mistletoe has been disposed of?” Eric asked, giving Chow the chance to take his turn nodding before continuing on. “You better hope it has been. Do something about that damn music-- I don't care what Pam might threaten you with for it-- and let her know I will be taking my throne in thirty seconds.”

Chow was gone in a blur, leaving Eric alone once more. Uncrossing his arms and unclenching his fist, he examined the ribbon once more, making certain the words were still in tact. “Shared joy is a double joy; shared sorrow is half a sorrow,” he repeated now, more quietly. “God Jul, Mena,” he added, his lips quirking briefly up into a half-smile. “Och tack.”

Crossing his office once more and locking up behind him, he paused at the door between him and the club long enough to shove the ribbon into the pocket of his jeans and vanish the expression from his face. Pushing open the swinging door, Pam was waiting for him on the other side of it. Though his eyes rolled upward, if any could have deciphered it over the dull roar of Twisted Sister singing I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, they'd have heard the Viking say: “Just this once, give me the damn hat, Pam.”

Staring at the basket, Mena was having second thoughts…for about the forty-seventh time. It was one thing to exchange holiday gifts with vampires, faeries, demons and whatever other flavor of supe she called friend. It was something else entirely to give something as intimate as handspun yarns to...

#Mena Grazie #Christmas

[sheriffnorthman]

Fairies and Witches and Weres, Oh My

In the modern vernacular, I believe the living would refer to the last few weeks of my existence as a “clusterfuck.” I am not entirely certain where that particular word comes from or what brought about its formation, but considering it contains the word fuck, I can hardly find fault with its usage. But I digress. The last few weeks of my existence have been quite a “clusterfuck.” It began- as so many things do- with @RomanLucious. After two years spent shuttling between Mississippi and New York, my prodigal Deputy has finally returned to Shreveport. The two years were not without news, though seldom did Roman and I exchange words or information directly. Vampire politics always has been and always will be a dangerous and deadly game, so volatile the board it is played upon threatens to be turned over at any given moment. Being Sheriffs of different Kingdoms hardly allowed for Roman and I to remain on cordial terms when Kings and Queens are quick to assume treachery for far lesser sins. Sources and allies delivered word of his movement to me, and I would be naïve- something I most assuredly am not- to assume the same was not true for him. My sources did little to prepare me for his abrupt arrival at @BarWithABite, however. I hadn’t received so much as a whisper that he might be venturing to my corner of Louisiana, yet there I was, dressing for another wasted night spent being  gawked at by the worthless fangbangers that flock to Fangtasia, when I felt him as clearly as I would feel one of my own progeny. Though I trust my blood with everything that I am, I doubted it in that moment until I laid eyes on him. Once more, my blood had not led me astray. When I arrived at the club, there he was with the witch @MenaGrazie, as if it hadn’t been more than seven hundred nights since he had last entered it. I believe humans would refer to those first few moments as “awkward.” Personally, I would prefer to think of them as having been tense. Bonds and blood mean more than most could ever fathom, yet no vampire who has survived as long as the pair of us have is quick to drop his guard without just cause. I was curious, doubtful, incredibly suspicious, and- I’m not too proud to admit- relieved to see him. There is good reason @fangtastic_Pam is my Second. After exchanging greetings with Roman, she wisely decided to shut the two of us away in my office to sort through his reasons for returning to Area Five. Granted, she likely regretted that decision before the night was through, but it was necessary in the moment. I should have known I wasn’t going to enjoy the reasons for our reunion the moment he pulled out the flask of fae blood. Not that Roman has ever needed an excuse to gorge himself with fae, but he drank first, and I appreciated the act for what it was… a sign he hadn’t come to betray my trust or to end me, so I indulged in turn as a measure of good faith. In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have. It made me much too open to accepting his reasons for being in Shreveport, which, naturally, were solely because of @PrinceVladTepes. The deputy’s long standing feud with The Prince is the sort of thing legends and nightmares are made of. It’s woven throughout history like a bloodied tapestry. Every time the pair cross paths, nothing but destruction, devastation, and death lay in their wake. As much as I would like to at times, I cannot fault Roman for feeling haunted by The Prince. If anyone is, it is most certainly him. With the Prince residing in New Orleans, he has returned to Area Five to finally end the feud and unshackle his eternity from that of Dracula or meet his final death once and for all. It’s a noble quest, even if entirely delusional. A large part of me would like nothing more than to see Roman free from the clutches of the Prince, yet another part of me knows it would never be so simple as that. Should he succeed, vampire law would demand he be ended, along with anyone who might have helped him, living or undead. Knowing his intentions, just agreeing to allow him into Area Five could be deemed punishable with Second Death. So, of course, I gave him permission. Now it’s just a game of distracting him from his quest for the sake of us all. Fortunately, there has been a fair amount happening to keep him from rushing head first into his self-appointed suicide mission. The same night Roman arrived in Shreveport, his adopted child @VampyJo sought me out at Fangtasia with news of her husband, @were_lucian. For months, the Werewolf had been suffering from a Stage 4, inoperable brain tumor. Specialist after specialist had been unable to do anything for the pup, and while JoAnna’s blood eased some symptoms, it was incapable of reaching the root of the problem in order to cure it. Though my knowledge and understanding of modern medicine is extremely lacking, once I was handed Lucian’s medical files, it took me very little time to determine he was dying. I had no doubt JoAnna intended to turn him, and she was quick to confirm it, though she had no shortage of reservations. Lucian had expressed his desire to be turned, but given JoAnna’s own experiences with her mad Maker, she questioned her capability and sought advice. I was willing to provide it, and quickly agreed to be present for both Lucian’s death and his raising. I may not have been her Maker, nor even her adopted Maker, but JoAnna has always been loyal to me and has proven herself trustworthy time and time again, and I was honored to take on the role of her mentor for such an important turning. Begrudgingly, I could even admit to a slight fondness of the Were, even if he did stink of dog. Seeing him turned, though many would not approve, was preferable to a mortal death. Death was in the air, it seemed, though I wouldn’t learn of @NiftyJenny’s passing until she told me of it herself, and with a beating heart, no less. To say that I was fascinated by her story would be quite the understatement. Jenny had died in Bon Temps a few nights before she sought an audience with me at Fangtasia. After reading her obituary in the paper, @BiancaNorthman’s bonded witch @LiamDelancy and her homosexual dayperson witch, @OscarBrooks, exhumed her body with the intention of returning her to this world, something they succeeded in doing with @TisaMoreno and a necromancer, @WitchyHannah. To say that I was intrigued to learn @TeacherHalleigh’s sister raises the dead in her spare time would be putting it mildly, though I maintained a well-practiced air of disinterest. A vampire can never let a human know when they hold more cards than they realize. Jenny had not returned from death the same as she had entered it. Whether it was from her time on “the other side” or from the witches, I know not, but she has returned to this world mortal, yet other. She is able to discern races by smell, not so unlike a vampire, but perhaps more intriguing still is the damage she can cause when angered or threatened. I am naturally curious of her abilities along with the potential they hold, and since she has long been a human I found worthy of their existence, it seemed only natural to offer her a position at Fangtasia. She is now a bartender for the club and has invented a drink called a “Totally Tits Martini.” I have no idea what goes into it, but quite frankly, she had job security at the very mention of breasts. Seeing Jenny at Fangtasia nightly naturally led me to thoughts of @BrierFerrior. It had been some time since the WerePanther had left Fangtasia for pursuits elsewhere in the world. I hardly make it a habit to contact former employees of the bar- not that there are many former employees who aren’t dead- but I had always thought of Nolan as “mine.” He may not have been bonded to me, but he had always been more bearable company than any other slave of the moon I had known and seemed to prefer the company of humans and vampires to that of his own kind. He had long been fiercely loyal to me, and I didn’t require an exchange of blood to know he was trustworthy. It turned out that Nolan had pursued a career in shoveling sodium. Prior to this, I had no idea salt required shoveling, and I’m still uncertain as to why it does. I assume it’s a cat thing, but I don’t really know why. Though his choice in replacement profession was questionable, he proved his intelligence by jumping at the chance to return to Fangtasia. Nolan belongs at the bar in the same way Pam or myself do. It is simply not the same without him, and he was happy for the opportunity to return (not that anyone could blame him when he would otherwise spend his mortal existence shoveling a seasoning). While Nolan’s professional life left much to be desired, his personal life seems to have flourished. Nolan is now a married man, not to mention an expectant father. @BrookeFerrior is a WerePanther as well, currently pregnant with their child, and who has a half-fae child from a previous relationship. Nolan introduced us his first night returned to Fangtasia, and she is a good choice in woman for him. She is attractive and quick-witted and considering she is mother to a half-fae, smells surprisingly good for one of the two-natured. She will keep Nolan on his toes and help me make sure his existence is filled with surprises and “coincidences” that happen to amuse me to no end. Needless to say, I approve. Another former employee of Fangtasia has “tied the knot,” as they say. At least, I think that’s what they say. Human idioms have always evaded me. @MelissaHiggens invited Roman and I to her nuptials to another vampire, @KyvanRus. I had never met Kyvan before, but it is obvious he makes Melissa happy, and for two vampire to pledge themselves to one another for eternity is no small thing. The ceremony was pleasant and I am pleased Melissa is happy. Considerably less happy throughout the ceremony was Pam. I could feel her significant discomfort throughout the wedding, and had to excuse myself shortly after the reception began. Pam’s progeny, @Pams_firstboy and @TaraThornton_ had fed upon donors who had been drugged in some manner, and were weakened to the point the slowest of humans could have ended them with ease. I may not tell her often, but Pam truly is a good Maker. She knows when to discipline and when to offer compassion. I have never seen her take away their freewill, though it would be easy for her to do. She allows them great freedoms and shows significant amounts of trust. I can feel that she cares for her progeny, and she suffered for their pain then. After giving blood to Tara, Pam was too depleted to offer Colin the healing he required if he was going to last the night, so I provided Colin with my blood. It took them a few nights to fully heal and replenish from the ordeal, but they recovered, and I am relieved for Pam that they have. There would be no recovering for Lucian, however, and in short order, it was time for JoAnna to turn him. I ordered @VaughnBrennan to dig the hole in which Lucian would spend his three days death to spare JoAnna the task, and after quite the fiasco with my youngest child and fueled by @winnieYTM that I refuse to get into, it was time for Lucian to be turned. @WereLily and @SpencerColtTB had left the Maxwell residence prior to Roman and I arriving to bear witness to the event, and that was certainly for the best. It was the first time I had seen Lucian in some time, and his condition was dire. It was no small gift of Fate that he had managed to last as long as he had. It was a difficult turning to witness. Lucian and JoAnna had exchanged blood more times than could be counted, and in order for the Were to be made a vampire, the bond had to be severed. JoAnna’s pain was obvious and abundant, and it was more than apparent the three days waiting for Lucian to rise would be the longest and most agonizing of her existence. It may be selfish to confess, but I am a selfish vampire, and in those moments, I could not help but think of @BarmaidSookie. My bonded has made me feel more things in the brief time I have known and been with her than I can recall experiencing in centuries before. Though Sookie has expressed no desire to be turned and though I have no interest in ending her humanity when I enjoy it as much as I do, I cannot fathom my existence without her in it. Should I ever face a night when I no longer feel her very life force within me, I don’t know what I would do. It has become something I need as desperately as I need sustenance. I refuse to believe there might be a future without her in it, and if there is, I would rather destroy the world than exist in it. Let it never be said JoAnna is weak. I have little doubt she handled the situation far better than I would have. Roman and I buried them together, since JoAnna refused to leave Lucian’s side, even though she felt nothing from him, and he was locked into the death that accompanies our transition. I checked in on her over the following nights, making certain she wasn’t losing herself to the agony of the severed bond, but she held up impressively well for a vampire of any age, let alone one as young as she is. On the third night, I unburied them alone and was there to offer my congratulations to JoAnna on being a Maker and to assess the now youngest vampire in my territory. Lucian’s situation is a delicate one. Making vampires out of Weres is not an embraced situation on either side of the Supernatural fence (fuck fences!). Lucian is left with a foot in two separate worlds, on both sides of a battle and rivalry that has been raging for all of time, and neither side will be quick to accept his allegiance nor to trust it. Even I will admit to being leery and acknowledge I am watching the situation closely. Because I advised JoAnna and value her, I am invested now in Lucian’s existence, though whether or not the newborn appreciates that remains to be seen. I wish to see him flourish as a vampire, and embrace this existence, one he is fortunate to have been given, but his struggle with his new nature would be obvious, even if JoAnna hadn’t confessed there have been issues. Of course, I’m sure part of that is because the Were side of the ongoing feud has been making its presence and feelings known. JoAnna told me both the @WereAlcide had the bathroom befouler @WereTDawson have voiced their opinions on the matter. I can only roll my eyes at that. Where is a damn newspaper to smack them in their noses with when you need one? The first few full moons following his turning will be the true test of Lucian’s future. If he is able to accept and embrace his new nature, it will be made apparent then. For JoAnna’s sake, I hope he does not destroy himself. Considering the first time he properly fed on one of the living, it was that of his adopted son, Spencer, I fear Lucian’s experiences thus far have not been ideal. I don’t truly believe he would destroy himself intentionally, but if he does not learn, adapt, and embrace what he now is, his taste of immortality may be brief, especially since many odd things seem to be afoot. And nothing is more odd than what happened after the Deputy finally returned to Fangtasia after vanishing for a week following Lucian’s human death. I had suspected Roman’s claims of chasing fae in Monroe was all a clever ruse in order for him to secretly pursue the Prince in New Orleans. His witch was able to track and locate him there, and after I demanded he return to Area Five, she insured his arrival. I was less than pleased he was foolishly entering the Prince’s territory on his own, and JoAnna proved she has no fear of her adopted Maker and had no qualms offering her own opinion on the matter, but none of that was truly bizarre. What was odd was who arrived in the middle of what was about to become a bloody battle. Fangtasia has always attracted a very wide spectrum of clientele, but the one Supernatural family we fail to lure in is that of the fae. I suppose those delicious tasting beings have enough sense of self-preservation to avoid our little slice of Shreveport. All except for my bonded’s cousin, @ClaudeCrane, that is. He demanded entrance into my office and after Sookie allowed him admittance, he began ranting and raving with news I still chuckle at the reminder of. It seems Roman hadn’t been entirely dishonest when he had claimed he was visiting fae in Monroe. At some point in time between the two of us burying JoAnna and Lucian and his witch retrieving him from New Orleans, Roman married the fruity fae. Claude had a signed marriage contract, written by @SkyPrinceNiall himself, and signed in blood by both Claude and the Deputy. The news was enough for a centuries old vampire to seemingly lose consciousness (I didn’t think such was truly possible, yet I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same had our positions been reversed), and I was tasked with seeking out the demon Cataliades to see if the contract was as true as it seemed to be upon first sight. It was. Roman and the fruity fae are man and… man, much to the Deputy’s dismay and to the amusement of all others. As amusing as I find it (and I most certainly do find it amusing), I also find the union troubling for so many reasons, a number of which I’d rather not think on now, or ever. Just as we are not fond of fae beyond the blood their bodies offer, Niall Brigant of all fae is no friend to the vampire. My relationship with his bonded has, as far as I am aware, never been accepted by him, nor embraced, and my lover is only one-eighth fairy. Claude is the only pure-blooded male heir in Niall’s line, and Roman is nothing short of a fae blood addict. I cannot imagine it is Niall’s intention to see his only grandson drained until he is nothing more than fairy dust, even if seems that is the most likely outcome. Fairies are deceitful, manipulative, and always with their own agenda. I refuse to underestimate Niall’s cunning, and can’t imagine there isn’t some significance to this union that hasn’t yet been realized. Figuring out what it might be seems unlikely, however. The contract is written and worded in a cryptic way that seems likely fairies might understand, but it is impossible to decode without some knowledge of the intention behind it. Mr. Cataliades offered no insight, only saying he refused to be involved with any interference we may attempt concerning a contract written by Niall, which is far from promising. I suppose I will simply hope the fruity fairy or one of his kin spills the secrets of it before Claude is drained. I hate hoping. It never tends to end well. Since hope is unreliable, I’ve begun taking matters into my own hands, or at the least, gathering support where I might. Between arranged fae-vampire marriages and @DakotaARyan informing me Dracula may be aware of more than we realized, I’ve began moving my own pieces on to the board, just in case. As I always say, I fucking hate witches. There is no such thing as reiterating that enough. Still, after being nearly drained only to have my bar burned down around me a few years ago, I can admit they have an impressive amount of power for mere mortals. Reluctantly, I can also admit not every witch has been a proverbial stake to my side. Bianca has long been fond of her witches, Roman’s witch Mena has proven useful to him, and the school teacher’s sister has even proven herself useful. So I’ve decided to find myself a witch. Yes, I still fucking hate witches and will continue to do so, but I refuse to not possess a weapon I could find use for. Finding one to trust is difficult, however. I kept an ear to the ground and learned of a witch out of New Orleans who has been punished for being a witch (including by other witches) nearly as much as I have been punished by witches. @JadeChiara_ had no ties to the vampire community whatsoever, which was another point in his favor. After taking a meeting with him in Fangtasia, I have decided to hire him for my uses. He could prove to be quite useful, especially if he could succeed in tracking down that ginger-menace @BrodyKeyes where all others have failed. In an odd twist of fate, Jade operates a tattoo shop out of New Orleans with @DareDevilDestin. He has used his magic to create inks that can be used to tattoo even vampire skin without quickly vanishing. I find myself strangely tempted to indulge, despite the fact that Sookie was less than fond of the last time I did such a thing. @AppiusOcella has been extremely quiet as of late, and I fail to know whether I should appreciate such or be concerned. My Maker has seemingly made it his eternity’s purpose to see me and what I hold dear suffer for the night Roman staked Alexei, and in the past, quiet has meant he is up to something. What he might possibly be up to, I cannot imagine, but it has me slightly on edge. Perhaps that is my own paranoia, however, since I have begun planning my own treachery against him. Planning is perhaps an overstatement, since I truly have no idea how I will go about doing such a thing, but I intend on freeing Vaughn from his clutches. Turning and giving Appius the drug-addled busboy in exchange for not taking Roman’s life for Alexei’s second death has long been a source of much contention between myself and Bianca, and remains so to this day. She loathes the fact that I surrendered my blood so easily, despite the fact that I truly had little choice in the matter, and uses any mention of Vaughn to express her dissatisfaction with me. What she doesn’t seem to realize, however, is I despise myself enough for both of us for having done it in the first place. Since the incident with the hole at the Maxwell home I refuse to discuss, I have realized how dire my youngest child’s situation truly is. In the few times I have seen Vaughn since the night he rose, he had always been with Appius, and he was hardly allowed the permission and freedom to speak, especially to me. I have often felt his suffering and loneliness strumming through the bond we share, but nothing could have prepared me for what Vaughn has become… or hasn’t become, would perhaps be a more accurate way of putting it. My child, despite having been a vampire for a few years, is practically human. He barely seems to grasp the fact that he is undead and seems to have no knowledge of our abilities and strengths, nor how to use them. From the look and manner of him, I suspect he has never so much as fed upon human blood. I expected Appius to torture or simply end him for the inevitable ache it would cause me. I didn’t expect him to do this. I don’t know how I will accomplish it, but it is my responsibility to free my child from my Maker once and for all. Hopeless as he may be, Vaughn is mine, and he deserves at least a chance at this existence. I will teach him and introduce him to his true nature because it is his right, and if he remains as hopeless as he was the night he defiled JoAnna’s lawn, I will do the kind thing and end him. Now, I just have to figure out how to obtain him without drawing the ire of my Maker. Bianca’s anger (and petulant, infuriating furniture rearrangement) is more than enough. Through it all, Sookie has remained my island of sanity throughout the storm of chaos that wages around me. I would be lost without her. On a related note, I owe her a new kitchen table.

#Sookie Stackhouse #Roman Lucious #Claude Crane #JoAnna Maxwell #Lucian Maxwell #Pam Ravenscroft #Dracula #Fairies #Jade Chiara #Jenny #Niall Brigant #Vaughn Brennan #Appius Livius Ocella #Brody Keyes #Brooke Ferrior #Destin Gomez #Fangtasia #Lily Maxwell #Winnifred Harrison #Melissa Higgens #Kyvan Rus #Mena Grazie #Journal

[sheriffnorthman]

Where Has the Time Gone?

The sun has just set in Stockholm and I've risen to find my lover curled up beside me, eyes closed with a peaceful expression resting upon her face I have memorized with my fingertips and lips so many times over. The sweet, crisp smell of the winter wind coupled with the salty smell of the nearby sea clings to her skin from our adventures in the snow last night. I can barely concentrate on those when the scent of her blood and our sex still hangs so prevalent in the air, however. It takes a great amount of willpower for me to resist rousing her from her slumber in my favorite way, but my lover is exhausted. I can feel this threaded through our bond. So for now, I will let her sleep. Truly, I can understand her exhaustion. The holiday season and all that has followed it since has been hectic with seldom a moment to spare. @BarmaidSookie and I have had little time to rest or relax, something neither her nor I will voice any word of complaint about. We have been surrounded by those we value and care for in the past days and nights, and I can feel that Sookie feels blessed for this. When my lover is in such spirits, I cannot help but smile myself. It is, however, high time I take a moment to record these happenings. I have collected centuries worth of journals, each filled to the brim with my thoughts and memories, yet I cannot help but feel that even a thousand years from now, I will read the writings I make now most often, treasuring them above all others. Sookie and all that she has given me truly has changed me. Nothing could have been made more obvious after a night alone at her deteriorating farmhouse was interrupted by a very uninvited guest. When the knock came on the door, I thought little of it. Sookie is often visited by the residents of Bon Temps I can barely tolerate the presence of, but when she opened it and I heard the voice of the visitor from her kitchen, it was as if a fear I hadn’t known I had, had been realized. I have done everything I could to keep Sookie from ever being forced to meet @AppiusOcella. Naturally, he went out of his way to demonstrate exactly why that was. I could not immediately figure out what had prompted the visit, but the purpose became clear quickly enough. Appius was well aware of the pain I had experienced at the hands of the witches when @BarWithABite was burned. He knew my body was still not whole and I silently cursed the witches who tore through my flesh, leaving me to the pangs of regenerating it, and ultimately giving my Maker this opportunity to approach me and my human under the guise of a favor. No matter what his words may have said, his true intentions were obvious. He was well aware of my lover and curious of her. It did not take long for him to acknowledge he has been involved with @ClaudeCrane, the fairy who is rapidly becoming a pain in my ass, though not in the way he would certainly choose to be. Sookie was as shocked by this news as I was, not to mention torn between being deeply concerned for her fairy kin and angry at him for speaking of her to a vampire who is undeniably a danger to her. Appius did not stop there, naturally. He ordered me to feed from him to aid in my healing, and as an order from my Maker, I could not refuse it. The short trek between the chair I had been seated in and the feet of my Maker seemed impossibly long, and I could feel Sookie’s eyes on me as my fangs reluctantly sunk through his wrist and I drank of his ancient blood. The murmurings of approval he offered up as I consumed again of the blood that created me were made worse by the feelings of discomfort resonating through our bond from Sookie. He was quick to leave, but not quick enough to spare me from feeling more disgusted in myself than I would ever normally allow. I couldn’t speak a word to Sookie, not one, but she didn’t seem to desire my words or explanation either. There were so many feelings and emotions present that I knew were not my own, but I failed to recognize a single one of them. She immediately went to her phone, to call the fairy for answers, and I went to scrub away the feelings that consumed me in the shower. I went through all the hot water the farmhouse offered me and then some. I felt no cleaner when I exited than when I entered. I didn’t speak upon emerging either. Sookie was exhausted, and simply asked that she be allowed to retire. I nodded my consent though I did not feel I deserved to hold her as she slumbered, even though she requested it. Until the dawn took me to my daily death, I thought of nothing but how I could possibly right the things between Sookie and I because of my Maker’s visit. There was so much I had never told her. There was so much I had never wanted to tell her. I knew that would be changing, whether I liked it or not. Mostly, I did not. Yet at the same time, I did. A piece of me, small, but present regardless, wants to share all I am and all I have ever been with my lover. It is so easy to give the pieces of myself to her that are “good” or “desirable,” but the things I regret, the things I choose to avoid any thought of myself, are much more difficult to unbury. Sookie has been a gift to me, one I know I have not earned and do not deserve, and a part of me is nearly certain I will lose her when she realizes such. Offering her the reasons to walk away seems foolish, yet doesn’t she deserve to know? Doesn’t she deserve to have these choices? When I rose the following night, Sookie was ready to discuss everything we had avoided the previous night, even if I was reluctant to do so. I can deny her nothing though, and offered her what I could, and what she wished to know. I told her of the night my human life ended. I told her of what greeted me upon my first night as one of the undead. I told her of staking my brother, and the wrath I had incurred from Appius for doing so. Finally, I told her of the price I ultimately paid for such an act… and I could tell it broke her heart to hear it. I try not to think of @VaughnBrennan and what I did to him, but Sookie wanted to know it all. Turning him as I did only to give him to Appius, knowing he would either meet a second, final death swiftly or be a prisoner at best, is something I struggle with nightly. Regularly, I wish my Maker would have ended him immediately. The loss of a child is damning and encompassing. The void it creates can never be filled, but at least a void is empty. The fact that Appius has not ended him has left me to feel Vaughn’s misery regularly. Each time, I am reminded of how carelessly I treated my blood- everything I am- by giving him to Appius. Sookie insists I must see to his freedom from Appius. I do not know how I can possibly accomplish this, but I agree. Vaughn is my child, even if he has not seen me since the night he rose, even if he has been imprisoned for nearly a year because of my actions. I must find a way to right this. I cannot comprehend it, but Sookie has forgiven me for what I have done, or will completely if I am able to get Vaughn away from my Maker. Truly, I do not deserve someone so abnormally good. My lover and I celebrated the day of Jul the Christians stole from my people and now call Christmas alone together, which was exactly as it should have been. Between all the planning required for our trip to Sweden and the White Elephant party Sookie hosted, along with uninvited visitors creating tension between us, we required the time with one another and the simple peace we bring the other. I offered no words of protest over the many Christmas movies she desired to watch yet again, even if I have them reluctantly memorized from the first time she insisted we view them. I have come to the conclusion I regret not having had a taste of Rosemary Clooney during her White Christmas days, but I have wisely kept this thought to myself. The night following our Christmas in Bon Temps, Sookie and I drove to Shreveport with Hundr in order to indulge in a holiday family dinner occurring at @VampyJo's residence. @AngeloSenior and his daughter, @GiannaVerdone were present, along with JoAnna’s siblings, @NandoYTM and @AutumnYTM, and, of course, @WereBabyLily. Autumn and JoAnna had concocted what I was told was an Italian meal for the humans, while the vampires present indulged in glass after glass of human blood. Though I knew nothing of the food the humans among us consumed, it smelled somewhat pleasing… with the exception being the garlic bread. Sookie, thankfully, did not indulge in that. It was an interesting dynamic at the table. I do not know JoAnna’s siblings as well as I possibly should, beyond the fact that her sister possesses a chest I wouldn’t mind ravaging if I was not so loyal to my lover, and that her brother seems to be attracted to me. Angelo and Gianna seem to be an extended family to the Livingstons, something I knew from our trip to New Jersey, but something I had not truly seen before that night. They are like one family. Things flowed naturally, with a mixture of rivalry and affection in the air, and of course, it’s fair share of cursing. Gianna has requested that I allow Angelo to live with her, something that I think is a dreadful idea. I have only encountered her a handful of times since being burdened with the task of seeing to Angelo, but the few times have been enough to make me wonder how no one has ever drained her before. The girl is very attractive and apparently eager to have sex with me, but incredibly dim-witted and annoying. I can only imagine that if she were to live with her father, in a moment of newborn hunger, he’d drain the girl without second thought and not regret the silence such an act brought with it for some time. Still, both she and the vampire insist they desire it. I cannot simply allow Angelo to roam far from me, not without disobeying Appius, something I am as incapable of doing as Angelo is. I have, however, agreed to look into realty in my neighborhood. Perhaps it is not unthinkable to secure the pair a home very nearby my own. At least it would keep Angelo from listening to Sookie and I fuck into the wee hours of the morning. At one point in time, Sookie threw a shrimp at Gianna. I am not sure what custom this is or what it’s meaning is. I must remember to have Pam or Bianca look into it for me so I know when it is something I should do myself. Sookie and I told JoAnna a little of the encounter we had had with Appius and about what he had said about Claude. The three of us share a fear that my Maker will end the fruity fairy and in doing so, bring on consequences all of us are unprepared for. Though JoAnna is too young to know of Niall and though Sookie has never met her ancient great-grandfather, I have encountered the fairy prince before, and know well enough the death of his grandson would lead to war. What concerns me most about such a prospect is the idea that Sookie could be taken from me. Since learning of her fae heritage, I have fought back the feelings of foreboding that threaten to enter my thoughts whenever it or her kin are mentioned. Though my lover has always been, if anything, too kind and generous to those around her, the fairies she shares blood with are just the opposite. JoAnna and Sookie have agreed to pressure Claude to end the foolish relationship he is engaging in with Appius, and I am left only hoping that, for once, the fairy is reasonable. But I do not truly think he is capable of such a thing. The next night seemingly proved such. For @CalienteChloe’s birthday, @DavidCallum and @RyderWylde planned a surprise celebration at a Shreveport Mexican restaurant in her honor. Sookie and I went to offer our well wishes to the hot tamale, who I hadn’t spoken to for more than a minute since she literally kissed my ass on Father’s Day. Many familiar faces dotted the restaurant’s population… @JulesBonTemps, @Cathy_BT (who I spanked), @AbigaleDawson, @WereLee, @WereBraiden, @WereAsher, @TedtheFae, and Claude, among others. Claude seemed to spend the whole party poofing from place to place, spending his time stalking the Lieutenant and @RylanParker equally. I ended up joining the Lieutenant in covering myself in lemon juice, much to Sookie’s disapproval, but with how much tequila the fairy (and others) were consuming, I wasn’t about to take any chances. Despite the fruity fairy doing what he does best in making every straight male in an given place incredibly uncomfortable, Sookie and I had an excellent time, and were able to catch up with many people we had not seen in some time. Seeing Chloe so happy was quite a treat as well, since she certainly hadn’t seemed such a thing when she had been locking her lips to my butt. When another fairy poofed into the restaurant to deliver the cake and began stripping, Sookie became highly uncomfortable and we were forced to take our leave. I cannot help but be slightly pleased that the only male my lover seems to desire naked is me, not that anyone could ever blame her for such. With any good fortune, I have ruined her for all other men. The next night Sookie and I met with @pamiravenscroft, @LaceyTB, @NiftyJenny, Claude, and JoAnna to do some necessary shopping for our time in Sweden. Sookie didn’t seem to believe me that she needed warm clothes for our trip, but with the presence of her friends around her, she seemed slightly more willing to indulge in the spree she views as a chore. She fussed over every price tag, but finally managed to make a number of selections the others seemed to approve of. I certainly approved of her lingerie selection. Since we landed in Sweden, I’ve shredded through a good portion of it already. She picked a dress for our bonding ceremony and insisted I do not peek. I haven’t, though I have been more than a little tempted. I have seen the shoes she will be wearing with it, and if the dress in any way coordinates, I am certain I will be pleased. While we were shopping, I had to sneak off at one point to pick out more pricy items I was certain she would require for the trip, knowing there was no way she would “allow” me to buy them for her if she was given the option of offering input. She has yet to open the garment bag they are in, but I am sure it is only a matter of time until she does. Hopefully. It wasn’t all play before Sweden, however. Pam had informed me the humans we were holding prisoner in the basement of Fangtasia were causing her more than a fair share of problems, so @BiancaNorthman was called in to offer her expertise. If there is one thing Bianca is excellent at, it is making a human cooperate. She had an excellent time torturing @Witch_Madison as @AshleyDanielss watched on in terror. With her infliction of pain upon the young witch, Bianca was able to obtain the name of the ginger witch who attacked me… @BrodyKeyes. The Were in question she was less certain of, but after a great deal of blood and prodding, she offered up the name @WereHallow. Bianca extracted an address from the girl as well. Between Bianca, Pam, and I, it was agreed upon that Madison should not be killed, no matter how tempting it was. Though I had been oblivious to such a thing before, Bianca confessed that her daytime human, @OscarBrooks, is a witch and that he had advised her Madison may be carrying a curse tied to her existence. We decided not to take the risk of unleashing something more upon us, and instead are taking small measures to keep the girl alive, though she barely is. If she dies of natural causes and not by our hand, however, oh well. Ashley, we determined, wasn’t truly involved with the witches. Or, at least, was not until locked in the basement with one for nearly two weeks. After a brief discussion, I agreed to glamor her and remove the memories of her time in Fangtasia from her head, along with any memory of the witch she had bonded with in her time there. I had avoided telling Sookie anything about the prisoners. After she had discovered the purpose of Fangtasia’s basement when learning of @JustLafayette’s time there, I knew well enough it was a topic best avoided altogether. Much may have changed between the two of us since then, but I knew my compassionate lover would still struggle with accepting the measures I must take in order to keep my Area functioning safely and the vampires within it safe. Before glamoring Ashley, however, I made the confession to her. Sookie was reluctant to join me in the journey the following night to the club to remove the girl’s memories, but she did so, for Ashley’s sake. My lover offered the starving and sick girl food, clothes, and medication while I systematically removed her happenings and replaced them with false memories of my own creation. The looks Sookie gave me could have killed… Fortunately, death isn’t much of a concern for me. She was even more reluctant to search Ashley’s thoughts once my glamoring was complete in order to ensure everything had gone according to plan, but my lover did it all the same. She refused to have sex with me that night, and instead made me watch another one of the movies she enjoys so much. Even a single night without her body connecting to mine is like torture. I am going to make a point of keeping business I believe she will disapprove of from her in the future. Things took an unexpected turn from there in the nights that followed. After not hearing from him in some time, @RomanLucious contacted me, informing me he was in the kingdom of Mississippi to pick up money from the casino he and JoAnna own in Biloxi for Fangtasia’s new security system. Something was undeniably off about the tone of his text messages, but I believed it came from uneasiness he felt being in @VampKingRussell’s territory. I was wrong. Well, not entirely wrong. Russell did indeed seek out the Deputy while he was in Mississippi. When Roman returned to Louisiana, he informed me immediately of the ominous, bizarre behavior of the neighboring king, and even I was concerned. We both believe Russell is watching Louisiana, and that he has stationed vampires near our kingdoms’ borders to keep him informed if any Louisiana vampire should cross into his territory. The biker bar the Deputy frequents that lies near the border seems to contain a mole loyal to the Mississippi king. It will all take more looking into. That wasn’t what seemed to truly be on the Deputy’s mind, however, concerning as it was. I knew something was amiss when one of Roman’s messages acknowledged that he would be spending his daytime death at Fangtasia. When I inquired why he would not return to his dwelling instead, he informed me he had no home to his name any longer. I offered him a room in my house. Sookie does enjoy being a hostess, and I could not help but be curious as to why my Deputy would believe himself homeless. When he arrived on my doorstep, Roman’s eyes looked every bit their seven century age, and he walked as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders instead of only the weight of an overstuffed duffle bag. I genuinely had not been prepared for the tale that met me. Though Roman had confessed to having lost his fairy when we spoke at the ball in New Orleans, I had not realized the silence that followed had been directly related to it. He could not protect her, and came to the realization that he could not protect @Baby_Abel either. With a heavy heart, he informed me he had asked @CowgirlVamp to become Abel’s permanent guardian, and asked her to protect and care for his adopted son as he found himself unable to. I could feel just how much of a loss this was to the Deputy. I have long known of his desires to be a father, something he hadn’t had the privilege of knowing in his human life. He had plans for Abel once he had grown, hoping to one day turn him into his child for eternity. Even though I was less than approving of those plans in particular, I could hardly judge him. Not when I have done all the things I have done. I could feel his despair through the bond we share, the bond that has made us brothers by choice. I decided to tell him about my true relationship to @VampNiklas, making it the first time I have admitted aloud our connection in seven hundred years time. The words were not easy for me to part with, perhaps because I have always gone out of my way to repress and deny them, and I myself could not stop the rare pangs of guilt and remorse that dotted my feelings at the recollection. Roman was surprised, as I imagine most would be. I think, however, he understood. Abel may not be of Roman’s blood, but he will always be his son. Perhaps now was not the right time for him, perhaps these circumstances were not all he hoped them to be, but that does not mean it will not happen. A time may come when he is presented with an opportunity to become a Maker, or to once again adopt a child for his own. It may not be Abel, but the relationship he will share with him or her will be as important and significant. It will happen for him. Whether he realizes it or not, he is a good vampire, with a good head upon his shoulders. One night, he will become a Maker, and he will be a good one. There are hurdles he must overcome, but he will. His hesitancy is all in his mind. I trust the confidence will come in time. He has it in him, he just must recognize it instead of only recognizing his own shortcomings. He will be welcome to stay with Sookie and I for as long as he may require. It is not as if we do not have the room, and I imagine the Deputy needs the presence of others right now. With the Deputy nearby, I was given the opportunity to update him on the situation with the witches, as well as my intention to bond to Sookie a third, irrevocable time. Confessing to him that I loved her seemed to catch him off guard, but I do believe he means it when he says he is happy for me. He both agreed to join us in Sweden, and set to work on getting the witches monitored by video feed we’re able to access even in Europe. While Roman and I were working on checking the video feed of the address the witch called Madison supplied us with, Sookie hosted Lacey for the night. It was safe to say the Deputy hadn’t planned on running into her, but I believe it was a good thing that he did. My lover and I offered the two of them a chance to talk, something I am nearly positive they have not done since the night we felt our connections to Lacey severed. While they spoke, I phoned @QueenBlackwood both to inform her about my leave of absence and to tell her all Roman informed me of Russell. She agreed to make the journey from Las Vegas to Shreveport in order to watch Area Five and the kingdom of Louisiana, and brought with her @TigerLevy, her personal bodyguard, and @Tammyjo__, her liaison to the Were community. She shares many of the concerns Roman and I have about Edington’s interest in the state and will no doubt keep her eyes on Mississippi while there. I know the state and Area Five could not be in better hands during my absence. It wasn’t all work before we left Shreveport, however. @Kayden_D had invited my lover and I to her impressive home, and Sookie and I were anxious to accept. Since my lover heard her sing at the Blood Ball, she has wanted the chance to meet the enigmatic songstress, and I knew she would not be disappointed. We were greeted immediately by Kayden’s butler, @ButlerChauncey, who is demon at least in part by the scent of him. He made Sookie undeniably nervous. It was quite precious. We settled down in her sitting room and I was sorely tempted by the ball of yarn and knitting needles that rested in the middle of the coffee table. It seems Kayden had heard of my knitting talents and was eager to see if they were true. What can I say? When a woman has interest in watching me knit, I will knit, every time. I had been eager for Sookie to meet Kayden if for no reason other than I knew the newborn vampire possesses extraordinary gifts, gifts she had had in life as well. Empathy, though not something normal (or perhaps even desirable) in the undead, is a powerful gift, and one Kayden was quite willing to speak about. She too had struggled with her ability to shield it when she was but a mortal, and explained that it was with the help of an old vampire that she became in better control of her talent. The one thing I immediately took away from her words was that it was most easy to control once her heart no longer was beating. The fact that her gift hadn’t died with her is also most intriguing to me. It would be a lie to say in that moment, I did not look curiously at Sookie, wondering over what kind of vampire she would make. Death is not something that has been discussed between the two of us in depth, at least, not her own, but I cannot help but wonder. The idea of ever losing this rare and extraordinary woman is incomprehensible to me, but I do not know how she would feel about ever joining the race of beings she sees as so senselessly violent and too often unfeeling. My lover is compassionate, forgiving, kind, and sweet. These words simply do not describe vampires. Perhaps it is something best never discussed with her. If I give her the opportunity to tell me she never wishes my existence for herself, she will be furious if I ever should bring her over. I do not want to imagine the wrath she would offer up in her newborn state. If I avoid the discussion altogether, there is always the chance when the time comes, it would be in my hands. It is not something I wish to think about for many years to come. I enjoy my lover as a human. My existence is sustained on her blood alone. She is warm to my touch, soft, and perfect, just as she is. My attraction to other vampires has never been what it is to humans, so predicting whether I would desire her or whether she would desire me is impossible, but I still cannot help but wonder about what might be. My lover is an impressive telepath as she already is. Death and the power that goes with it could make her so much more. When Kayden spoke of the limitations upon her gift, I noticed a discomfort from my lover that had me suspicious immediately. It seems that even in life, Kayden was able to occasionally influence the undead. When I asked Sookie whether or not she had ever read the thoughts of a vampire, she became highly agitated, denying that she had. I wish I could have believed her. Discussing it in front of Kayden was hardly appropriate, however, not when I was dreading the potentially dangerous truth of the matter myself. Instead we discussed Kayden’s adopted family, something else I was pleased Sookie could hear. She seemed fascinated by the connection the empath had chosen for herself, and I hope with it she opens her own mind to the rather untraditional family around her now. Really, I think she already has. Sookie and I invited Kayden to a night at our home when she returns from her travels in France and England and when we return home from Sweden. Immediately I could see the cogs in my lover’s mind begin to turn as she began planning the event and who to invite. She really does enjoy doing such a thing. When returned home, Sookie and I discussed whether or not she had heard vampire minds, and with a great deal of reluctance, she confessed she had been within the confines of my own mind on one occasion, the night I staked Longshadow. This news was greatly unsettling. I can remember with total recall what I was thinking that night, and none of it would I have had Sookie hear if given any choice in the matter. Then, I had thought about how I could use her and her gift, I had thought about the measures I could take to ensure she did as I asked whether she wanted to or not. I had thought about taking her from @TruBloodBill, and I had thought about the ways in which I desired to make Fangtasia’s thief pay for what they had robbed me of. I do not like the idea that my lover could know these things. She insists she did not read my thoughts, only get a sense of them, but she seemed to grasp easily enough that they were dark and twisted. A vampire’s mind is sacred. It is the place most guarded and sacred. It contains our every secret, our every memory. Many of these things, I never want Sookie to know. Had I learned she had been privy to my thoughts before I had found love with her, I imagine I would have ended her. It would have been a shame to destroy something so desirable, but it would have been a necessary measure to ensure the confines of my mind remained mine alone. I cannot help but fear if another vampire learns that, occasionally, she can glimpse into our heads, that they will be as compelled to end her as I would have been then. I have made her promise to never tell another, living or otherwise, but I fear that will not be enough. I intend on working with her on these shields Kayden spoke of, in order to guard her mind from invading what it should not. I must protect her. She is my everything. After all, that is why we made this trip to Sweden. Every minute that passes, I grow closer to bonding a third, permanent time to my lover. I am nearly willing the moments to pass more quickly. I have told Sookie that to vampires, the two of us will be considered married, and that I will consider her my wife. She seems pleased by this, though there also seems to be an undertone of sadness I do not understand. I will figure it out, however. I care only about bringing my lover happiness. It is the least I can do when she has given me so much. Roman, Lacey, @JackDanielsTB, @WestonTackett, @KristenFerrior_, @NolanFerrior_, Jenny, JoAnna, @were_lucian, Lily, Pam, Bianca, @LiamDelancy, @WaylonLee_, and Claude have all joined us here for the snow and celebration. Our bonding ceremony grows nearer by the minute, and I am pleased those gathered with us will be sharing it with Sookie and I. Tomorrow cannot get here soon enough. In a thousand years time, nothing has ever felt more right than this, now, with her.

#Sookie Stackhouse #Kayden de Lumiere #Love #Sweden #Roman Lucious #Bianca Northman #Lacey Daniels #Jack Daniels #JoAnna Maxwell #Lucian Maxwell #Waylon Lee #Jenny #Kristen Ferrior #Nolan Ferrior #Claude Crane #Liam Delancy #Chloe Ramirez #Bonds #Politics #Witches #Journal

[sheriffnorthman]

A Whirlwind Week

Thursday night, @BarmaidSookie left her farm house in order to attend what she called a "munch needed" meeting with @Sam_MerlotteBT. The notion of her going to speak to the Shifter worried me a great deal, especially since the last few encounters with the glorified canine have left much to be desired. Not only has he made it a common practice to insult my lover simply because she is with me, but Sookie confessed that he had taken to offering similar derogatory comments to @Tara_ThorntonBT since she has so often been accompanied by and watched over by @fangtasiaserge. I don't care much for Serge myself, yet anyone with eyes can see he is no danger to Sookie's friend and that his actions are purely out of concern for her. The Shifter's hatred of all things vampire seems to have reached a new and concerning level as of late. While I know no vampire would react to his amusing and ignorant rantings, I have worried for the humans around him, and that includes my Sookie. Though she offered me the opportunity to go with her on the venture, I could not allow myself to do so, even though it was more than tempting. My presence would have only fueled the Shifter's fire. Instead, I was left in Sookie's farmhouse quite unsure of what to do with myself. It is amazing how quickly I have become completely accustomed to her presence at my side. Without her, I found myself at a loss and feeling her absence immediately. She was there for me when no other was, and that has imprinted upon me in an irreversible way. It is almost fortunate for me that @pamiravenscroft phoned Sookie's home shortly after my telepath's departure and provided me with a much needed distraction. She had arrived at @BarWithABite that evening planning to further organize the necessary renovations for the club after the witch's fire only to find a part of the roof had collapsed, and not by natural means. At the scene of the crime, she discovered @AshleyDanielss along with another, unfamiliar girl, @Witch_Madison. With the help of @MelissaHiggens, who was there to help her with the debris removal and necessary phone calls, the pair managed to apprehend the two girls and secure them in the basement of Fangtasia against their will. Both were questioned, but Pam stated they were willful and refused to offer information up. After the spell @DocLudwig diagnosed as having been placed on her by a witch, she has struggled with glamoring, and found herself unable to force the pertinent information out of them. After some brief consulting with one another, we decided to leave the girls in the basement of the club and starve them. Their willfulness will break quickly enough. If either is connected to the witches who took my blood and burned me, we will uncover it and will then be a step closer to finding those responsible. It is a small relief and victory amid the series of unfortunate happenings that have plagued Area Five since the sudden influx of witches. There will be many more victories to follow this one. Once I was off the phone with Pam, I struggled with deciding whether or not I should tell Sookie this information when she returned home. Despite the fact that I know my lover wants vengeance upon those responsible for Fangtasia's fire and my resulting injuries, I know she would not approve of holding the girls and torturing them in much the way I myself was tortured. I decided not to tell her, not to avoid the argument that could ensue, but simply because I did not want to consider involving myself or Sookie in these things in any way. Pam has the situation in hand and I trust her with it. Sookie does not need the unpleasantness, nor do we, not when my lover has been so happy lately. That happiness is of the utmost importance to me and I want nothing more than to maintain it. Instead of deciding how I would broach the issue when she returned from the Shifter's pub, I put in a rushed text to @LaylaDarshan with clear instructions for the next day. Sookie returned home soon with news that left me pleasantly surprised. Her meeting with the Shifter went far better than I could have anticipated, and my lover finally explained the nature of her talk. She sought additional time away from the redneck bar in order to stay with me and adapt to my hectic schedule. It is both relieving and rewarding that she is as devoted to solidifying this rare and extraordinary thing we are sharing as I am. I know what my lover's work and income means to her, and I know she has as much pride as I do. She is so reluctant to offer any aid from me despite it being something so easy for me to give, but these things we will work through. I am fortunate to have her. I cannot tell her such a thing enough. I am determined to show her how much I appreciate her presence in my existence and the sacrifices she has made for me more often. I showed her that night in her kitchen. We broke her Gran's table. When I rose Friday evening, Sookie was not in bed with me, but I could smell her cooking in the kitchen. She was obviously distracted and it quickly became apparent as to why. Layla did not disappoint in the requests I made of her the previous night. The packages arrived just as I had desired them and Sookie had spent her daylight hours wondering to the contents of them. Once she had fed, I allowed for her to quench her curiosity and open the boxes. I couldn't help but chuckle as she first discovered the gown I had chosen for her, her face filled with a kind of awe and trepidation. I had been considering attending the @BloodBall2010 for some time and could imagine attending with no one but Sookie. Things had been so hectic that a trip to New Orleans for a party of such sorts seemed out of the question, but Sookie and I both needed a chance to get away and enjoy one another. When I invited her to attend with me, she instantly accepted, and in no time, the additional boxes were opened and we were packing for the lengthy drive to New Orleans along with Hundr, who has been quite overdue for a stay in a vampire hotel. We didn't reach New Orleans until it was nearly dawn and Sookie and Hundr were quick to fall asleep. I knew my lover would need all the rest she could get for a busy and memorable event. When I awoke on Saturday evening, Sookie was already buzzing about the hotel room, preparing herself for her very first formal event of such magnitude. It is almost surprising to me no one has ever offered her such before. My lover deserves to be treated to the finest things in life and she looks natural in a gown of such design. It truly did hug her body in the most perfect way, making it nearly impossible for me to will myself into my tux and out of our hotel room... But I digress. There was not even a small chance that I would deprive my lover of an event she was so obviously anticipating, and I could feel her anticipation clearly. We drove to the Magisterial Estate, where @VampireMagister hosts the event every year and as soon as we entered, Sookie was enchanted by the opulence of her surroundings. We saw @LaceyTB almost immediately upon entering and I could tell Sookie was relieved not every face in the crowd was unfamiliar. In fact, there were many familiar faces in the crowd of partygoers. @DavidCallum, @AlyxConway, Pam, @RomanLucious, @MeeMawBellefleu, @VampireStan, @KittyCatAngie, @ShifterPmt17, @CindyLouLouBear, @BranCrisp, @Lady_Cris3, and even @Vampire_Bubba looking dapper in a metallic suit were all among the collection of humans, Weres, and vampires who had amassed for the retired Magister's celebration. And naturally, @Sookeh was there, possibly for the free food. She stopped by Sookie and I for only a few moments in order to introduce us to her new flame, @EvilDamon. The "boyfriend" was either invisible or nonexistent and I expressed exactly this, much to Sookeh's annoyance. Once the Evil One took off in another direction apparently in search of a human to sacrifice for some cause, my lover informed me she believes my daughter has an imaginary boyfriend. I do not know what to make of that, but it is Sookeh, and I find myself simply accepting it. In the grand scheme of things, this is quite normal. Sookie also introduced me to a friend of hers, @MenaGrazie, a human who seemed quite out of sorts and jumpy despite the fact that I assured her I would not be quick to kill her when she is a friend of my lover's. I do not know why the girl was so uncomfortable. I would think any attending a ball being hosted by vampires would be comfortable among the undead, but one can never really anticipate nor understand humans fully. Sookie stated that the girl was a writer, a journalist of some kind. Perhaps she is simply more familiar interacting with words instead of individuals. It can be investigated later. When @Kayden_D took the stage to perform for the audience, I was quick to sweep my lover out onto the dance floor. Nothing in this world compares to Kayden's voice, which seems to have been touched by the gods themselves. The Magister made a wise choice in turning her and choosing her as his lover and companion. Sookie and I danced for easily an hour on end without stopping. I had no idea she enjoyed such a thing so much, but it is exactly what such an occasion is for, and the two of us took full advantage of it. I will really have to take her dancing more often. When she required a rest, we found a table and were quickly joined by Lacey, Dave, and Alyx, who are always the most welcome of company. Lacey was inebriated and quite upset, though she insisted she was enjoying herself. She informed Sookie and I there has been progress in @JackDanielsTB's condition and he may soon wake. I hope that with his waking, Lacey's own spirits will improve as well. It pains me to see her with such a sadness surrounding her. I will always think of Lacey as my daughter, and her pain is my own. Though I do not know this Jack of hers well yet, I can tell he brings to her what Sookie brings to me. I hope that is returned to her soon. Chatting with the three of them with Sookie at my side was the perfect way to end the evening, and soon, Sookie and I were returning to our hotel for amazing sex. How is it that every time is so amazing and never remotely boring? I do not know, but I doubt it will be changing, and certainly do not want it to. On Sunday, I took Sookie and Hundr on a carriage ride through New Orleans City Park to see the display of holiday lights they feature every year. This holiday season is so important to my lover, I wanted her to have the chance to experience the holiday in the Big Easy, even if we would only be there briefly. Sookie seemed enchanted by the experience and even Hundr seemed to enjoy all the lights and people buzzing about. Sookie sampled the cuisine and we strolled the gardens lazily, something we both enjoyed. Hundr enjoyed leaving his own trace on the gardens much to my amusement. Able to convince me of nearly anything, my lover even managed to get me onto the rides that had been set up for the event. Her enjoyment was my own, so I would easily do it all again. We were both nearly reluctant to end our weekend away, but the time to return to Shreveport had unquestionably reached us. Sookie does not want to miss the birth of Tara's child and there is much more to do in our holiday celebrations. My lover has gone to work planning a baby shower for her along with @JustLafayette and @JericaMalone, and she seems to be genuinely excited for the new addition to her makeshift family, so I am pleased for her. Last night, Sookie and I planned on decorating my home for the holiday season as we had her own home, but I found myself incapable of doing that before I discussed the prospect of our third bonding with her. I love Sookie Stackhouse, now that I have confessed to such and realize the depths of my affections for her, I desire the permanent bond that the blood exchange would form. I reminded her of my intention to travel to Sweden with @NolanFerrior this season, and asked her if she would do me the honor of bonding to me there. She immediately agreed to my relief, and has even embraced the idea of having the important exchange witnessed by some of those who will understand it's importance best. She chose a small list of people, Lacey and Jack, @BiancaNorthman and @LiamDelancy, Nolan and @NiftyJenny, Pam, and @WaylonLee_ to invite. The fact that she chose some of those most important to me pleases me if only because it assures me they are becoming important to her as well. Of course, my lover could never stop there. Immediately she began planning a small party in which we can invite those few for the trip and explain our intentions to them. She truly is the consummate hostess. Not wanting to be one to forget any this holiday season, she is also toying with the idea of another party to include all our friends and relations. My lover is nothing if not thoughtful and infinitely thankful for those she cares for. I will never be able to determine what I have done to deserve her, but I know I will never be able to let her go now that I have her.

#Sookie Stackhouse #Bonds #Alyx Conway #Dave Conway #Lacey Daniels #Kayden de Lumiere #Love #Nolan Ferrior #Pam Ravenscroft #Sam Merlotte #Sookeh #Tara Thornton #The Magister #Witches #Journal #Jenny #Mena Grazie #Roman Lucious

[sheriffnorthman]

Four Letter Words

I always suspected that everything I had ever known had changed the fateful night @BarmaidSookie walked into @BarWithABite on the arm of @TruBloodBill. Now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I know I was right. One girl, one (mostly) human girl, has managed to turn the world as I have known it for over a thousand years time completely upside down. One might fairly inquire how such a thing could be possible, but the answer is both simple and the most unfathomable thing I have yet experienced to date. She made me fall in love with her. Love. A four letter word that is so simple to speak, yet so impossible to truly understand and to know. Truthfully, I have always thought of it more as an idealized concept than something that actually existed. To love someone- to really love someone- I was certain was impossible. It is a word that is so casually thrown about by both the living and the undead, a word to substitute something more honest and accurate, such as “fleeting affection,” but it could not possibly be real. Not when I had so much reason to doubt it. I have heard so many use it without an ounce of meaning. Is it really love when, after a few nights spent apart, one's eye and body is wandering towards a new party, and one's mind is wandering away from that which they claim to have such a deep affection for? Is it love when one thinks only of himself? Is it love when she puts herself first? Is it love when one's actions are fueled by the things using such a word can give them? Be it sex, blood, power, or material goods? Is it love when such a thing can be easily discarded for something more promising or more desirable? Is it love when distance or absence is able to interfere? No. This is not love. I have never felt it was. Of course, there have been plenty who have claimed to love me. How easily lust is mistaken for love. The difference between the two could not be more dramatic, however. While I had never loved, I have lusted. Oh, how I have lusted in my many years, but even without ever having experienced love for myself, I knew it was not the same. Passion without depth, without meaning, is nothing more than physical desire, which has always been enough for me. The kind of love I was both offered and willing to give in return left me sated. I gave no weight to the word when it was offered to me. Not when I was certain it was meaningless. I always refused to use it myself, regardless of the cost of not returning the sentiment. Why should I perpetuate the lie? They would go on to offer someone else their brand of “love,” forgetting so easily how a word with such meaning had been offered to me, and someone new would willingly accept my own limited lust for themselves without hesitation. Many believed they could or would change me. That in time, I would come to offer up the word so many have made nearly worthless with misuse. Just as my outward appearance had not changed since my death over a millennium ago, neither would my position on falsely claiming to love what I did not. Really, why should it have? Even as a mortal man, I had never known nor experienced what I believed love to be. My marriage was not built upon such frivolous things as unwavering and irreplaceable affection. When my elder brother had died in battle and left behind a widow in the marriage our parents had arranged for him, it fell to me to marry her to keep our families connected. She was a good woman, a good mother to our children, and a good enough wife, but it was never truly about love. Her death was an undeniable loss to me, but my heart did not break, my world did not shatter. I had not truly lost a piece of myself with her passing, and though I grieved for the end of a woman I had come to care for and respect, I carried on. When I had never known or experienced love for myself, I could not miss it, I could not crave it. I was not seeking it, nor expecting it to find me. Such a thing was not meant for me, I was certain of this, and I had accepted it without mourning. Of course, that did not stop me from being curious of it. There are moments of my existence that have been encompassing in their darkness and loneliness. In such times, I allowed myself to wonder what such a thing could be like for me. Even though I was sure I could not love nor be loved, that did not stop me from wanting it. Isn’t that how things so often are though? What we can never have, we yearn for the most. I was certain it was not for me, however, so I never allowed me to fool myself into believing it could or would happen. So naturally, when I least anticipated it, it did. Few things for a vampire my age can ever be considered new, yet everything with Sookie has been. From the moment she first entered my nightclub, clueless and hopeless, she entranced and fascinated me. When she daringly (and perhaps foolishly) exposed her valuable gift of reading human thoughts in order to spare me and my child from being implicated in a raid on Fangtasia, I saw in her a sense of charity I had come to believe no longer existed in this world. It was the same kind of charity I foolishly offered to a stranger lying on the side of a road and calling out for aid on the last night of my life. The difference was that Sookie knew exactly what I was, and she hadn’t hesitated at all in order to help me. I could barely fathom it. From there, as if that in itself was not earthshaking enough, she exposed me to compassion. After she had offered up such unexpected charity and revealed her gift in doing so, I had attempted to show the girl exactly who and what she had aided. I had been so prepared to threaten and scare this young human woman beyond her wildest imaginations, to give her a dose of reality she clearly needed if she intended on not being the next Bon Temps bloodsack to wind up dead. Calling her to Fangtasia in order to uncover who was stealing from me in the manner I had should have terrified her. And while I could smell the fear on her and see it in her mannerisms, it didn’t stop her from holding her ground in demanding no lives could be taken by using her gift. She looked at the sweaty, worthless accountant who tended the books and the vampire-addicted waitresses who wore their desperation in scars on the flesh of their necks as if they were valuable and worth something. She soothed and comforted them as she read their thoughts and questioned them aloud. She meant nothing to them. I could see in their very expressions that they loathed this girl who could single-handedly be their end, but she never let this change her demands. She protected them, without reason, and was an unwavering source of calm to them they didn’t deserve. And I had thought I had seen everything. I went out of my way to make the girl uncomfortable. She portrayed the image of a proper southern belle and I am proud to be the exact opposite, so I reveled in being as rude, shocking, and crass as possible. I wanted to fuck her, so I told her so often. I propositioned her in inappropriate manners in front of others despite the fact that she belonged to another. My lips sought and found hers without her approval. I tricked her into consuming my blood. I laughed at her anger and shamelessly taunted her. And what did she do in turn? She forgave me. Forgiveness itself is a concept I am unfamiliar with. Vampires tend to seldom forgive and never forget. Had I done to another vampire what I did to her, I would have paid for it in blood and would eternally be looking over my shoulder expecting retaliation. I have had so many humans who have expected for me to purchase forgiveness in jewelry and other pricy things. Such thoughts never occurred to my Sookie. She simply met my gaze and dismissed the many ways I wronged her. Even when I did the same things over and over, even when I refused to “learn my lesson” and accept her rejection, she forgave me. Without reason, without gaining anything from it, she forgave me, time and time again. And I cannot put into words what a new feeling being truly forgiven is to me. When she finally rid herself of the Civil War Relic and gave herself to me, she gave me a gift I have sought for so many years through our bond. She allowed me to feel her happiness- true happiness- and happiness that I was the cause of. It wasn’t things I could give her that made her experience these feelings either. I could feel it so clearly in moments that made little sense to me. She was so happy when I simply agreed to attend a dinner with her brother, @HornDogJason. She was so thrilled when I would agree to spend my daytime death in her farmhouse instead of returning to Shreveport. She allowed me to feel her true bliss when doing nothing but watching an old movie with her on her ugly living room couch, or when first taking her into my arms after a few nights spent apart. She allowed me to feel these echoes of something I have so long ago forgotten and have spent so long searching for again, and never once hesitated to tell me with complete sincerity that I was the cause of her elated mood. That I could make another so rare and extraordinary as her happy is the greatest gift I have ever been given. And then, when I was not expecting it at all, she loved me. Through all the tragedies and losses my lover has felt and experienced in her brief time on this earth, she knows better than most how fleeting and fragile human life is. Still, she gave her heart to me, unguarded and raw with the pain of previous betrayals to have, hold, and protect. She gave it to me without expecting or demanding the same in turn. She offered the sentiment and did not let me feel even a hint of disappointment in her when I failed to return the words to her. She had given me the power to crush and destroy her, for no reason other than she wanted to. She trusted me with it. She demanded nothing in return. Then, she watched me shatter. She felt my pain and helplessness so clearly as Fangtasia burned around me. She watched the proud, Viking warrior and Sheriff of Area Five be reduced to nothing more than a shell of what I am. She felt me break and then she aided the confused and lost vampire I had become out of my own miserable prison. She did not judge me for my weakness, though I believe she was as aware of it as I am. Instead, she nursed me, she cried for me, she cared for me, she protected me. She has sheltered and clothed me, knowing that doing so puts herself and her home in danger, without seeking anything in return. She has listened to me express fears I have never been comfortable voicing to another and does not let such change her feelings for me. While I would expect most to be repulsed by the uncertainty and hesitation I find myself feeling so easily now- while I would be repulsed by another if they were the one with such uncertainty and hesitation- it has not clouded nor altered my lover’s opinions nor feelings in the slightest. If anything, it has only made her more certain she needs to be at my side, that it is where she belongs. And the more I consider these things, the more I believe that she is right. The more I allow myself to feel what she feels for me, the more I realize I feel the same. The more time I spend with my lover, the more I realize she has become an integral and vital part of both my nights and of me. Because Sookie has opened herself so completely to me, because she has not hesitated to feel so sincerely and strongly for me, my own walls and defenses have allowed her to pass through them. As she slumbered at my side on Thanksgiving, having submitted to her exhaustion even before all our guests had departed for the night, I found myself pondering if I could love this woman. Even as she slept, I found her presence and proximity to me to be a pillar of strength and comfort. The way she curled into my side and the way her hand instinctively curled and grasped at the air when I had first moved away from her told me I was the same to her. Even after she had seen me weakest, even when she was at her most vulnerable, she sought me and trusted me. Being as unfamiliar with love as I am, I found myself frequently pondering it over the next few nights, trying to identify exactly what it was that I felt for Sookie. Undeniably, every moment I spend with her is important to me. Whether we are alone or with others, whether we are watching a movie, sitting around her kitchen table, or whether I am making her scream my name as she writhes beneath me, every second of it is valuable to me. I do not have to feign having an interest in her thoughts. Instead, I am genuinely curious and care about what she thinks. I value her opinion and ask for it often. I find myself smiling so often when I am near her. After mastering the art of a blank expression centuries upon centuries ago, it is unusual to be so drawn to such a meaningful expression now. Sookie makes me laugh with relative ease and I find her own frequent smiles and laughs both satisfying and rewarding. Around her, things are easy. I find I have no great need or cause to guard myself or to act a certain way. I am able to relax and simply appreciate her company. And then I enjoy all that is her as much as one possibly could. The warmth of her skin beneath my fingers feels right, as if my hands have been waiting an eternity just to know every inch of her body. Her breath on my neck feels good, as if it alone could warm me to my very core. The scent of her is so familiar and I am so drawn to it, I could recognize her arrival in a room full of people while blindfolded, even without our bond. Her blood is all I desire passing through my lips and everything else fails to compare and satisfy me in the same way. The sensation of her heart racing while pressed up against my own cold and silent chest feels so natural I crave it. And no matter how many times I have her, no matter how I take her, there is no trace of boredom felt by me. In fact, it is so extraordinary every time, I am nearly surprised and dumbfounded by it over and over again. I am compelled to bring her happiness however I can, in every way I can. I desire to care for her and unburden her senseless worries so they no longer exist. I want to offer her security and build an existence with her. I want her near me, nightly, and actually find myself hoping she desires the same of me. For the first time, I find myself concerned that she may grow tired of me or grow tired of the politics and complexities of my own world and flee it. As inconceivable as I would have thought it, I find myself willing to sacrifice some of what I pride myself on if it would allot me more time with her and please her. With each of those things considered, each and every one of them new and unexpected, it seems I can only bring myself to one conclusion that feels both good and somehow right, no matter how unfamiliar it may be. I, Eric Northman, am in love with Sookie Stackhouse. My human, my telepath, my lover, my dearest one, has irreversibly altered my unchanging self to my very core. And I would not have it any other way.

#Sookie Stackhouse #Love #Journal

[sheriffnorthman]

My First Thanksgiving Dinner

Friday evening, @BarmaidSookie and I hosted what I am told is a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. While I have been well aware of the holiday for many, many years, it is the first time in my long existence I have- in Sookie’s words- hosted such an event myself. My reasoning for ignoring a holiday that seems focused on human food and poultry in buckle hats has been obvious in the past, but once more I find my normal behavior being altered for the gift that is Sookie. What is important to her is undeniably important to me, and that includes bizarre holidays of thanks. From the moment Sookie asked if we could host the event together onward, my telepath had been focused upon little else. Between making invitations, getting them out to all our friends, and preparing an endless supply of both human nourishments and blood dishes, my lover exhausted herself in order to be the consummate southern hostess. I must admit, I was dreading the event when I rose on Friday night. Since the incident at @BarWithABite and the witches, I have been going out of my way to avoid others. My body is still regenerating in some places and I know I am not entirely myself both physically and mentally. I fear others will see this and know, and though I do not like to believe that any I or Sookie consider a “friend” would use this to their advantage, I remained concerned. Being cautious is what has kept my existence in tact for a thousand years, after all. Sookie seemed to sense my trepidation immediately. She ceased buzzing about her farm house in order to assure me things would be fine, and once more, I found myself relaxing if only because of her nearness and the comfort she brings me. It startles me, but I find myself believing I could come to love this rare and extraordinary human woman. There was little time for me to think of that, however, when our guests began arriving for the evening. @RomanLucious, his fairy, @FaeKayley, and their adopted son, @Baby_Abel were the first to arrive for the night. It was obvious immediately that they were no more familiar with the holiday than I was, but I appreciated the fact that they were attending if only for my Lover. As Sookie showed them to the absurd amount of food she had concocted for the evening, @LaceyTB, @JackDanielsTB, and @WestonTackett arrived. It was the first time I have seen Lacey since she had been lost to me and I must admit, it was a relief to see her whole and not merely a figment of my imagination. I do not understand what possibly could have occurred to return her to this realm and to those who care for her, but I am nothing short of relieved that it did. My blood may no longer tie us together, but Lacey will never cease to be precious to me, and seeing both her and her son brings an undeniably comfort with it. Of course, not everyone seems to feel that way. I had avoided speaking of Lacey’s miraculous return to this realm to the Deputy after first discovering it for myself if only because I did not know how the news would be received. When Roman first told me of Abel and his relationship with the fairy, a part of me was undeniably concerned he was attempting to replace what had been lost in the car accident that fateful night and that was what was guiding his decisions. After learning more of his son and his fairy, I believed Roman seemed- for him- relatively happy. To disrupt that for what could not be changed would have been a crime. And ultimately, even a meddlesome vampire such as myself can recognize when something is not my place. There was no hiding what Roman did not know then, however, and awkward moments were not quick to pass. The Deputy was troubled and angry, I could feel this easily enough, and Lacey was startled and hurt. I was unsurprised that the Deputy departed shortly after the night began. Centuries of existence and experience does not automatically create aplomb. Little time could be devoted to thinking on such things when more guests were arriving. Sookie seemed perpetually trapped at the doorway of her house as she welcomed guest after guest to her Bon Temps farmhouse. It was the first time I had seen @AbigaleDawson since her wedding to @WereTDawson, who seems to have decided married life is an excuse to gain obnoxious amounts of weight. If I were less educated and knowledgeable on such things, I would have asked if he was with child. It seems fences are suiting them well, and if Abigale is happy, I am happy for her. I really don’t care whether the mutt is happy or not. Someone who is undeniably with child is @Tara_ThorntonBT. She arrived, unsurprisingly, with her vampire escort, @fangtasiaserge, who I doubt is leaving her side at all in her delicate condition. I wonder if he, like me, finds himself remembering much too clearly a time when human women often didn’t survive the pangs and strains of bringing life into this world. I do not understand the vampires hostility towards me, though I suppose it could have something to do with coming to loathe his Maker and relishing in her second death, but I am also uninterested in finding out if it goes more deeply than that. As far as I am concerned, Tara is important to Sookie and what is important to my lover is important to me. We are, for lack of better words, “on the same team.” Tara, it seems, is no longer able to endure the strain of tending bar and being on her feet for long periods of time due to her condition and has found employment outside the casino the vampires of Area Five hold a major interest in. She requested approval to vacate her job there, and with a single nod from Sookie, I gave the pregnant human my blessing. I find myself startled at how much I need and rely on her right now, when I am so uncertain myself, but I trust her and her judgment completely, without a second thought. Tara’s cousin, @JustLafayette arrived with @HornDogJason and @BiancaNorthman. Needless to say, that is a trio none could have anticipated. Lafayette seemed uncomfortable, no doubt because many of the guests hosted that night possessed fangs that could descend at any moment’s notice despite Sookie’s inclusion of “no eating the guests” on the invitation for the event. It is safe to say I believe the fry cook has learned his lesson when it comes to the undead. Jason, however, is as unintelligent and careless as ever. It is a good thing I trust Bianca with everything that I am and ever will be, or I would be positive he would be dead sooner rather than later. Bianca actually appeared demure and understated at the dinner, but that was by appearance only. I believe my child left the event with more phone numbers than she went in with, and propositioned half of those in attendance. Never let it be said she is shy. @Sookeh clearly gets the ability to work a crowd from her. She arrived on the arm of @Sam_MerlotteBT, though “on the arm of” is somewhat generous since they both seemed mostly intoxicated. The Shifter was his normal cheery self, encompassing all he came into contact with a cloud of doom and gloom. While I am sure there are many things that should depress the Shifter to such a degree (a disgusting odor he can‘t hide, living in Bon Temps, residing in a mobile tin can, owning a bar for rednecks, etc.), he seems even more hopeless than usual. When even Sookeh seems startled by it, you know something is seriously amiss. At least my evil daughter seems as evil as ever. Sookie seemed to spend a great deal of time chasing her around and reminding her not to destroy things because they had belonged to her Gran. Ah, Sookeh. So much destruction in such a small package. It is enough to make me unquestionably proud. @NolanFerrior brought his human @NiftyJenny with him to the event and, at her prompting, informed me the pair is now “dating.” Nolan has always been somewhat unusual between his traveling in my trunk, his preference to dwelling in closets, and his predilection for sleeping on pipes, and it seems he has found his match in the broom wielder. Shortly after arriving, Jenny attempted to impersonate a plastic house plant before informing me the true love of her life is a machine at the @GrabbitKwik that produces a slushie. I really have no idea what to make of that. I should have asked @DavidCallum after he arrived with his attractive wife, @AlyxConway and their children, @SammieMasters and @ScarlettElena, but he was quite busy hitting on Bianca. I flashed him since he insists he is no longer dreaming of me after his ingestion of my blood during his brawl with Roman and despite him claiming not to miss them, I can tell he does. He really does. In turn, Alyx flashed @WaylonLee_ and I. It is almost a shame Waylon makes such a good Pooh Bear, or I would seriously be considering turning my second two-natured child. As it is, I will be content to watch him eat everything in his path (including blood dishes which he seemed incredibly fond of), and using carrots to mimic fangs. On a related, yet unrelated note, Sookie is not fond of me seeing breasts that do not belong to her. I cannot entirely understand this, since none compare to her own in my opinion, but I will do my best not to trouble her for such reasons. @VampyJo arrived with @WereBabyLily and even though they were not able to stay for long, I was pleased to see them. Lily is getting so big so quickly, it is almost difficult to believe the little girl I carried around the party for a short time was the same one I spent locked in a room with for a few nights in New Jersey. I wonder if she remembers any of that. Human minds at such an age are a complete enigma to me. @AngeloSenior arrived at the celebration with his human daughter, @GiannaVerdone. I believe Angelo signed my daughters chest, so when I next see him, I will possibly stake him. @AppiusOcella will be furious, but it would be worth it. Angelo’s own daughter pulled me aside at the party to offer me her thanks for giving her strange father my consent to leave my dwelling. I still fear that is possibly a mistake on my part and that Angelo took advantage of the daze that inevitably settles over a vampire so close to dawn, but I did not tell her such a thing. When we were parting, she hugged me as if we were not virtual strangers, and then propositioned me. I chose not to tell Sookie this. The arrival of @VooDooHooDooBT was unexpected, but thoroughly enjoyed by me. He brought with him Chow, who he has been keeping as a dung hut wife. The unintelligible witch doctor decided to show me his strengths, including his ability with a blow dart gun. I volunteered the Lieutenant to be the target, Joseph Drownapossum agreed, but when the dart flew, Lacey’s boyfriend Jack ended up being the one with a dart in his neck. From that moment forward, I naturally claimed I had nothing to do with it. Mr. Drownapossum also showed me his ability to call forth a donkey at will, and sure enough, @winnieYTM’s ass showed up in the middle of my lover’s living room. Sookeh had an ass there all her own. It’s a good thing Sookie was falling asleep by this point, or she no doubt would have been troubled by the livestock roaming her family home. As the dinner wound down and Sookie slumbered at my side, I had the chance to speak to Lacey and David about both Lacey’s untimely end and the witches I encountered at Fangtasia. The description of the red-headed male seemed to ring recognition with her, and she confirmed as Roman had theorized, that he was the one who stole her purse while we were in New York City. David and I share a mutual concern for Lacey now, especially when she must protect her infant son, and have advised her to take shelter away from her home. I have contacted @LiamDelancy and instructed him to use his magic to secure her home and workplace, @HooligansClub, so she may return safely. The Lieutenant let slip that Lacey’s return to this realm isn’t without change. She has acquired an ability to transport herself and others at a moment’s notice and demonstrated the ability when taking Sookeh back to her home. To say I am relieved is an understatement. Perhaps if the witches find her, she will stand more of a chance in escaping them than I did. When all the guests left for the night, I cleaned up around my lover’s home and even remembered to put the remaining food away since Sookie is so often concerned about not letting such things go to waste. I carried her to bed and found myself relieved when it was only her and I, alone in her room, waiting for the sun to rise. But overall, the event was good for me. I have never been so reminded of how important family is than I am now. Our bonds, both in blood and those we create through experience and common ground are invaluable. On the road of healing I find myself on, I believe Sookie’s dinner was significant. I am fortunate to have those who visited my lover’s home in my existence, and would not want to find myself in a world without them any longer.

#Sookie Stackhouse #JoAnna Maxwell #Roman Lucious #Lacey Daniels #Abigale Dawson #Nolan Ferrior #Waylon Lee #Dave Conway #Bianca Northman #Jenny #Sam Merlotte #Sookeh #Tara Thornton #Tray Dawson #Jason Stackhouse #Lafayette Reynolds #Alyx Conway #Lily Maxwell #Angelo Verdone #Gianna Verdone #Winnifred Harrison #Jack Daniels

[sheriffnorthman]

Out of the Freezer and Into the Frying Pan

When I woke in the walk-in freezer of @BarWithABite, there was not even a moment in which I could question where I was or how I had come to be there. The pain reared it’s ugly head in a potent way, my broken body once more reeling from the torture the witches had successfully inflicted upon me the previous night. I was starved… as hungry as a newborn upon first rising from the grave. The few bottles of TrueBlood I had downed before dawn had done little for my condition in the frosty prison, but I found myself thanking the gods my death a millennium ago ended the flowing of blood through my body or my wounds would have surely bled me dry. As it was, my open, raw, beaten, and burned flesh waited, adhering and freezing to the shredded clothing I wore, waiting for the sun to hide in order to haunt me with it’s ache once more. My ancient eyes, so used to seeing more than a human mind could ever fathom were blurry, clouded with the impurity of the silver that had been sprayed so callously at them. It was as if a thick, impenetrable blanket of fog covered the world I found myself in. The darkness of my frozen surroundings was encompassing. I was capable of seeing no more than a few feet in front of me. Immediately, I reached for the case of synthetic blood beside me, downing icy bottle after bottle without objection, as if I needed the liquid shit to survive. For once, I did. The additional blood did nothing for me. The throbbing pain my body knew in the moment was unfathomable. I found the simple task of clearing the rubble I myself had laid in front of the door of the freezer to be an exhausting task. The very idea of breaking myself through the frozen box in order to escape it was enough to leave me feeling defeated before I had even made an attempt at it. Everything was gone. Everything I am had been taken from me, made way with the previous night by two witches who knew no bounds. And for what? Why? I would not surrender, not now. I had made it through the day, I would not give in to the pain now. I searched myself with all I could, wanting to feel something- anything- besides the pain and hopelessness I knew so clearly now. And once more, there it was. I felt her before I heard her, the sound of her footfalls barely reaching my ears through the thick insulation of the freezer in my present state. I had felt her when the sun pulled me into my icy grave of daytime death and here she was now, when the darkness of night had taken over the sky. @BarmaidSookie. A million thoughts ran through my mind. Had she been here all this time? I could feel her anxiety, her fear, her frustration. I could feel the echoes of the pain I felt now reflected in her and cursed myself for knowing I was the cause of it. I felt her concern, her worry, and her desperation. She knocked lightly upon the door of the freezer and I did the only thing I could think of. I echoed the knock back, allowing myself a fleeting, panged smile at how ridiculous the action was. And then she opened the door. It was as if I was being assaulted once more, an overwhelming wave of things struck me at once, my ancient mind finding it impossible to keep up. The smell of burned, rotting wood was heavy, the sight and smell of stagnant, standing water covered everything. Walls were burned away to expose the very structures of the building that was so familiar to me, glimpses of the outside world visible through the gaping holes everywhere. The very building creaked, making it clear just how instable the structure was at present. The walls, the rooms, the furnishings of the back of Fangtasia were now nothing more than rubble and fragments. The ceiling hung low and heavy, as if it may collapse at any given moment. The back door was missing from it’s hinges, an empty metal frame the only thing separating the club from the world outside. I could smell the very sweat of the unfamiliar humans who must have extinguished the blaze hanging in the air. Even with my flawed eyes I could see everything was gone. Everything was black. And then, there was Sookie. She was the first and only thing I truly saw. She was there, truly there, and such a far cry from the blackness that surrounded her and that held me since the witches first found me in my office the night before. Her eyes were red and inflamed, signs of tears shed already and full of tears yet unshed, tears that I knew were for me. Her hair was tousled, a sure sign she had ran her fingers through it more times than she could count throughout her frustrating day. Her clothes were the ones that had laid beside my bed when I had left her the previous night to attend to the club. The smell of smoke clung to her, making it clear she had stood there all day, a helpless victim as she watched the world burn around me. Her breathing was quick and frantic, her heart matched it’s panicked rhythm. I stepped back and away from her, terrified for one of the first and only times in my long existence. I wish I could explain my fear, but even now as I am left reflecting, I do not know that I can. A part of me was afraid I would drain her without a second thought. Even with the heavy tainting of smoke upon her, my Sookie smells extraordinary, and I was so unfathomably hungry. I wanted to shout to her to get back, to run and run quickly, but was just as afraid that the predator in me would enjoy the short-lived hunt. A part of me was afraid of my own appearance. I knew even in the darkness with her flawed human vision, she could see the agony that was written into my flesh like a story that never should have been told. I loathed the idea of Sookie seeing me in such a deplorable state, gaunt from my blood loss, matted blood frozen to all parts of my body, my skin charred where my clothes had burned away in the flames, my chest marred with the gaping wounds the stakes had created. I knew the image was haunting. I could see it on her face. Yet still, more than anything, I believe I was afraid of just what she meant to me in that moment. Here I was, bloody and broken, beaten and bruised, and only she was there. My progeny were absent. My bonds, some more solidified than the one I share with her, were not present. No vampire who owed me fealty came to the aid of their Sheriff. It was just her, a human, who had let herself feel all my pain and share it with me. It was just her who had answered my call. It was just her who had risked everything by unleashing me from my prison. It was just her who had given me hope in my bleakest of moments. It was just her standing in the charred remnants of my world, beckoning me out, asking to care for me, asking to take me away from it all. I was terrified of how much I needed her. What little pride I had that wasn’t left burned on the floor of Fangtasia or drained away from me by the witches asked her for something to hide my condition with. Without second thought, my human shrugged her coat off and draped it around me, concealing me from the world around me. And it was just what I needed. I let her lead me from the building that was the center of everything Area Five was, the building that was nearly my final resting place, and to her car. She asked me where I wanted to go and for once, I honestly didn’t know. I have always been decisive and definite in everything I do, but I was simply uncertain. I was uncertain of everything… of where I went wrong, of what I have done to deserve this, of what I had left, of who I had left, of where I went from here… the list was unending. I was uncertain of what I had done to deserve her, but in that moment I knew I would not do without her. Wherever she took me, so long as she was with me, I would make do. I needed her more than I needed blood in my drained body. She was my healing. I offered no word of protest as she drove me home, leaving me to sit in her car as she gathered some of my belongings along with the blood stocked in my refrigerator from within. I slunk low in the passenger seat, avoiding the grizzly sight of my tortured reflection in the tinted glass of her windows. I could not utter a word of protest as she took me out of Shreveport and to Bon Temps. If it was where she was, it was where I needed to be. She struggled to carry the cooler packed with blood and the bag of my belongings from her car to her home, but still offered me her arm bathed in goosebumps from having surrendered her coat to me in order to aid in my journey to her door. I didn’t deserve this creature. She sat me in her small kitchen in one of the wobbly, mismatched chairs that lines the scratched up table she keeps there. Bag after bag of blood was warmed in the microwave and offered to me, my telepath working on washing the layer of blood and filth that clung to me away from my marred skin as I drank. She cut away the stiff and burned remnants of clothes from my body to free me of the burden of struggling out of them. I could see the question in her eyes. I could see the torment of not knowing what had caused everything she had felt and everything she now saw so clearly written into my flesh, but she waited for me to tell her the story I already longed to forget. And as I told her, she cried tears for my pain. She grieved for my loss as if it had been her own. As my vision became more clear with every mug of blood I drank, I saw just how deeply she had suffered for me. How much I meant to her was written in every expression she wore. She wanted nothing more than to soothe my pain now and erase every indentation upon me the witches had left, both the physical reminders and the ones locked eternally in the confines of my mind. It nearly upset me to know she would never be able to do that when I wanted nothing more than to give her what she wanted. When I drank as much blood as I could, she led me to her bathroom and bathed me, having to drain and refill the basin numerous times to rid it of the blood and charred flesh that flaked off of me. I don’t believe she wanted me to notice how much cleaning was necessary to rid me of my previous night’s torture, but I knew. It simply didn’t matter when her presence behind me, rinsing my body and washing my hair was more comfort than I deserved. She asked me to tell her more of what I have been through recently, the witches aside, and asked me to feed from her by giving me her wrist. I ultimately did not want to when I knew the information would only further upset her and taking her blood would only leave her weaker, but how can I deny this woman anything when she has given me so much? When she alone was my saving grace in my moment of need? At present, it feels as if she alone is my world. There is nothing I would not give her if asked of me. I felt infantile asking her if she would stay with me in the confines of her light-secured bedroom once I was finally clean and she led me to her bed. If she thought such a thing of me, she didn’t let me know it, and even seemed relieved I had made such an uncustomary request. And, sure enough, when I was roused from my death at sundown the following evening, she was still in my arms, curled into me in nearly the exact position she had been when the sun had taken me at dawn. Without commenting on how little of my flesh had improved as of yet, she led me to her kitchen once more and prepared more blood for me while making herself dinner. I felt her intense hunger then and realized my lover must not have eaten at all while I was taken from her. She had sacrificed herself completely for me. As long as I walk this earth, it will never be forgotten. It felt so natural and right to be with her in that moment, though my own mind traveled back to a time and world in which Sookie didn’t yet exist, when I was nothing more than a mortal man. Even a thousand years later I can recall distantly yet clearly what it was like to return to my home after months spent raiding to my wife and children. My body would be sore and show signs of the battles I had seen, but there was an unspoken comfort in returning to my homeland and my home, to see and be with those I left home in order to provide for, to listen to their stories of what I had missed in my absence and to offer ones of my own. Sookie, my human, my telepath, my lover, my dear one… feels more like home to me than anything ever has before. It felt wrong in such a profound moment to think about the witches who had robbed me of my blood, but I did. They had taken a part of me that is sacred, something that defines who and what I am. The female had the audacity to drink it directly from the immortal vessel that is me. It was not theirs to take. And I wanted Sookie to have it. I have bonded in blood twice to my telepath already, but a third exchange will seal our tie completely. For as long as we walk the earth, we will feel one another, her existence a constant buzz in the back of my mind and my existence one in her own. Her feelings will be my feelings. My feelings will be her feelings. She will feel me and know me more deeply than she could imagine, and I will feel and know her more deeply as well. I will be giving her an undeniable, irreversible power over me, but could I ever trust another with such a thing more than I can trust her? She has proven herself to me more than any other ever has. It is appropriate I have not made such a permanent bond to a human before. It should be Sookie who I experience and know such a thing with first. When I told her as much, she agreed instantaneously and despite the lingering pain I feel, I could only smile genuinely. Still, I have insisted it should not be rushed. I do not want her agreeing to such a thing if she is only doing so because she fears losing me to a second death now, and I do not want her to think for even a moment that I may be extending her this offer without sound presence of mind when nothing could be further of the truth. We did not have long to discuss or think on these things before the phone calls to my lover began and I found myself disheartened. My own phone was lost in the blaze of the nightclub, but can any really claim to be concerned when I am only sought with a phone call? I know Sookie is not the only one who felt my pain then. In fact, I know it is still being felt now. Is this the loyalty I am shown and worth? I could not let myself think on those things then, and instead chose to let Sookie do the talking. It is unnatural for me to shy away from conducting my own business, especially business that my lover does not need to concern herself with, but at present, I find the idea of doing such a thing myself completely repulsive. In the brief conversation I had that night with @fangtastic_Pam on Sookie’s phone, I left Fangtasia and it’s reconstruction in her hands. I do not want to so much as see the building until both it and my flesh resemble what they had been before the witches interference. Sookie’s patience with my subordinates seemed to mimic my own and quickly we were foregoing any further work or discussion with others in lieu of time to ourselves. My body was still fragile and weak, but I took my telepath that night, desperate to reclaim a connection I believe both of us needed. It feels more right than ever. The following night we were visited by @VampNiklas and @TaliaPerrault, both of whom had felt my pain clearly through our bonds. Innocently enough, Niklas inquired as to whether or not I had sought out @AppiusOcella for the healing his blood could supply me with, and my ever observant telepath caught and wondered on it. I had to tell her my Maker and the frequently referenced Appius Livius Ocella are one in the same. She wants to know why I am so reluctant to talk of my Maker and promises she would never put herself in danger because of what I might say, but I do not know how she would take the happenings either. She has insisted she wishes to know and once more, I find myself incapable of denying her what she desires, but I simply do not know how I will share such a thing with her. At the same time, I feel I must. I know there are many walls of my own making built up around me for my own safety and precaution. I have created them and I have reinforced them for centuries. Sookie has repeatedly told me she wishes to know me, truly know me, but I have never given her more of myself than I believe she is capable of handling. She has proven she can handle more than I give her credit for. She has handled more than even the vampires around me by sharing my recent pain, then taking me in and caring for me. I will have to find a way to tell her and simply hope she both keeps her promise and that it changes nothing between us, to hear of my weakest moments in a millennium’s time. I have been visited by more in Bon Temps since Niklas and Talia stopped by. @BiancaNorthman and her human witch, @LiamDelancy visited with Sookie and I tonight at my request. Though I do not like the witch Bianca has bonded to, the human has agreed to work with @VampyJo’s father, another witch, on finding and joining the coven of @BrodyKeyes and @WereHallow. Knowing the two who drained me have access to such sensitive information as my laptop and @LaceyTB’s phone makes time something that is not on our side. Knowing the red-headed male had been in New York when we tracked drainers there and had been able to both sense Sookie's telepathy and successfully block it certainly makes this an uphill battle. We need Liam and Jorge's aid in order to locate and end these witches before they have the chance to do to another what was done to me. I will need to have Liam and @JorgeJAlvarez use their magic to secure the resting places of numerous Area Five vampires and to protect the dwellings that belong to our sympathizers and humans. I have always frowned upon magic and its uses, but I have the sinking feeling Bianca’s human and JoAnna’s father may be invaluable to us now. I am prepared to pay them handsomely for their work, but given my own experience with the witches they will be trying to both stop and join, I fear for their safety. I do not know if Bianca would forgive me if something happened to her human and I am sure JoAnna is fond of her father. Just getting through the dinner discussing the witches and countering them was enough to leave me tired of work and it’s demand on my far-from-healed body. The moments I spend alone with Sookie right now are my saving grace, they are the reason I open my eyes at nightfall with more enthusiasm than my regenerating body wishes to allow. Sookie is home and all else fails to matter so long as I am with her. She is my escape, and there is no turning back.

#Sookie Stackhouse #Roman Lucious #Bianca Northman #Pam Ravenscroft #Brody Keyes #Lacey Daniels #JoAnna Maxwell #Liam Delancy #Appius Livius Ocella #Niklas Halversen #Talia Perrault #Bonds #Journal

[sheriffnorthman]

Thoughts from Inside a Walk-In Freezer

Sometimes, when the bills are piling up and the profits aren't what I want them to be, I have thought @BarWithABite will be the second death of me. Last night, it certainly tried to be. The night began like so many others had. I had to call @RomanLucious to come into work because- once again- he failed to do so of his own freewill. While I poured through the bills that had accumulated for the month, I listened to him justify the purchases he had approved for the club including a new security system. As he explained all of our cameras were virtually worthless, I found my patience quickly waning. Investing so much more in equipment he had originally assured me would last for some time is annoying, to say the least, but the idea that nearly every bit of security footage the club was capturing was worthless was more annoying still. Now, I wish he would have made the upgrades as soon as he made the outlandish purchase. Of course, that would require the Deputy to actually spend some time in Fangtasia, which he isn't doing now. Do you want to know why? Because, according to the vampire, he is doomed. I laughed. Honestly, as Roman began recounting the events of a few days ago, explaining how an overcoming sensation of bad had suddenly met him, I thought he was paranoid to new levels never before achieved. He couldn’t stay awake during the daylight hours? He wasn’t capable of dreaming? That’s entirely normal, something the Deputy has never really been. To him, it seemed to be a sure sign that something was truly wrong and amiss. I didn’t dismiss his feelings entirely, but I didn’t have reason to give them much weight either. Even as he went on to explain that @FaeKayley is in some kind of danger from a fairy prince she once was lovers with, I had a difficult time believing his “doom” was the doing of the fae. He didn’t like being told that, though, and it wasn’t long before he was throwing a tantrum and retreating from the club he was supposed to close the night with me. I let him leave. Between closing on my own or closing with a glorified teacup, I’ll always choose on my own. That was my first error of the evening. Regardless of what one may think, a thousand years of existing does not truly make a vampire impossible to best. I like to think it does, but I really know far better than that. Every single night is a battle. I am in a position that makes me more visible and thus a bigger target. I know this. I prepare for it. I have only survived for as long as I have because I am determined to survive. I know there will be moments of pain and suffering. I know there will be torture. Since we left the coffin, the undead have never been at greater risk. Our enemies are numerous and eager. Knowing this is half the battle. It certainly doesn’t make things any easier, however. When it came time to close Fangtasia, I sent the employees home in an effort to finish the little remaining work waiting for my attention in peace, something I tend to get very little of when at the club. I had enough time to write a few emails and get off a call to @fangtastic_Pam before things took a rather unpleasant turn. I heard the sound of the back door open, though I was positive I had locked it. I heard the sound of two sets of footsteps and was certain they were human being far too loud for one of the undead. The disgusting smell of Were assaulted my nose along with the sickening sweet smell of an otherness that always unnerves me… magic. It was worth investigation and I didn’t have far to go to find the intruders. Just outside the door of my office they stood, a male and a female. The male had long, shocking red hair, and the female was tall, dark, and two-natured. I could sense that both were witches from the unnatural scent that clung to them. That was about all I could gather before my sight was robbed from me. The agonizing burn of silver is something every vampire learns early in their existence. No matter how many times I have felt it’s sting, it never grows any easier. Now humans come up with such inventive ways to use that particular weakness against us. The colloidal silver was sprayed maliciously into my eyes and face, leaving me blinded and surprised. Worse than the pain was the smell of my cold flesh as it boiled and burned away. The smell hung in the air as I was pushed backward, silver netting enveloping my body and burning into the exposed flesh of my arms. They were surprisingly strong. I expect such strength from Weres, but even the male was strong. I did not connect those dots until the pair had backed me up to my desk and I felt the male’s hand collecting from and sampling from one of the fresh wounds the net had created on my limb. It was difficult to maintain any kind of focus. A vampire survives because of their heightened senses and my own were failing me then. I was sightless, the blindness something more eerie, startling, and damning than anything I could put into words. My nose could process little more than the searing of my assaulted flesh as it flaked and gave away to the silver netting. I could touch nothing trapped beneath the silver blanket that encompassed me, burning me with any attempt I made. The only thing I could taste was my own blood as I attempted to bite back the sounds of agony that desperately wanted to escape. I could not give my captors such satisfaction. The only thing I was left with was my hearing, so I used it as best I could when already so overwhelmed. The man, @BrodyKeyes, had been looking for Roman. He spoke of having touched my Deputy already this week and immediately, my mind returned to Roman’s earlier words. He had credited his doom to the fae prince who haunts Kayley, but for this human- this witch- to make such remarks made it clear no fairy was responsible. What made the red-headed male I had so briefly seen so focused on Roman, I had no idea, but he was willing to take his issues with my Deputy out on me in Roman’s absence. It was then that I felt the first stake. @WereHallow was stronger than any Were I had ever encountered before. She thrust the sharpened piece of timber through the flesh of my shoulder with an expertise that I can only say leaves me confident it is not the first time she has done such a thing. She missed my heart by quite a bit, a fact I was willing to point out if only to focus on anything other than the unthinkable pain. And the pain truly was unthinkable. I felt every sinew of muscle sever as the stake was thrust through it, tearing and ripping through me and into my desk, the sound of the wood splintering beneath me not deaf to my ears. I nearly wish that sense would have left me as well. Second death would have been easier than hearing them discuss the value of my blood and the qualities of it’s taste to their disgusting lips and tongues. I will rip those tongues from their mouths if it is the last thing I ever do on this earth. My blood, my ancient blood, my record of a thousand years spent wandering this plane… my everything was being drained from my body and licked directly from me by these vile excuses for humans. The blood I have forged my most valuable relationships with, the blood I have created my children with, the blood that defines me was leaving me at a rate so rapid, I could feel myself slipping. The idea that my last moments could be spent with these deplorable witches gloating over robbing me of my very self sickened me to no end. I struggled. It was a useless battle when I lacked the sight needed to catch them by surprise. It was all the motivation the female needed to send a stake through my healthy shoulder, leaving me once more stunned as the pain ripped through me. I could feel the blood pouring from my wounds. I could feel the papers that cluttered my desk adhering to my bloodied back. I could feel the netting digging deeper welts into my now marred flesh. I could feel every drop of blood as it was pulled from me by their instruments of draining. But I refused to let me lose myself to the pain. That would have been the easy thing to do then and it was certainly tempting, but I couldn’t. It is through pain that strength is found. I would find it, impossible as it seemed. And it did seem impossible. Every vial that they filled left me weaker. My fruitless attempts to struggle only left me with larger holes to bleed out of and new flesh for the net to burn into. Still, I couldn’t give myself over to the pain and submit. My blood was already out there, in my progeny and in my bonds. I called out to it with everything I could when already so weak and helpless. Helpless. A thousand years experience, a thousand years surviving, thousands upon thousands of corpses laying in my wake, thousands of victories to my credit, and here, now, I was helpless. If the pain had been any less significant and encompassing, I would have laughed aloud when I heard the Fangtasia phone ring. Only a brief moment was spent wondering who would use such a means to reach me when I was certain my condition could be felt by those connected to me. And then, realization dawned on me. @BarmaidSookie. I would have smiled had I been remotely capable. As ridiculous as calling the club was, I was thankful it was all she had done. The very idea of her putting herself in the way of these demonic, V-high witches was enough for me to goad my attackers further if only for them to hurry their torture of me along. If they intended on ending me, I would rather see them get to it before Sookie had a chance to reach me than have her meet her end in a similar fashion. The very idea that @BrodyKeyes was speaking to my lover sickened me though. His face and voice will forever be emblazoned in my memory. Whatever motivates his deep hatred of Roman matters little to me when he has earned himself little more than another powerful enemy. I can vaguely recall the Were encouraging me to smell something, but it was impossible. The scent of my burned flesh and my own blood were all I could process. It was so overpowering, I couldn’t even smell the stench of moon mutt upon her. She was willing enough to inform me the smell she was speaking of was gasoline and I could quickly figure out just what that meant. I smelled the fire before I felt it. Pinned to my own desk beneath a silver net and blind, I was trapped, but I refused to be hopeless. Helpless, I could not deny, but I would not be hopeless. Of course, that only meant more pain for me. I had a choice to make. I could either know more pain I could never have imagined now or inevitably meet my second death in mere moments. I will always choose pain and existing. With every ounce of my remaining strength, I forced myself off the desk, letting the stakes rip through my flesh fully and letting the silver net loosely laying over me fall to the floor once I was capable of standing. My arms felt useless from the torn muscle and I could feel what remained of my blood pouring from the fresh wounds. What was more was the feeling of the flames as they jumped up my legs and burned what little flesh hadn’t been disturbed by the netting because of my clothing. Still sightless, I didn’t require my eyes to know I was trapped. I could feel the flames so clearly as they sprang up around me, blocking my path if I didn’t want to meet my second death by my own doing. The doors were ablaze and I didn’t possess the strength to break through a wall. I briefly recalled the numerous times @WaitressGinger found herself locked in the walk-in freezer and was only rescued thanks to our impeccable hearing and Pam taking pity on her. Willing my arms to work enough to open the door was nearly impossible, but the flames lapping at me was all the motivation required. I managed to open the door to the refrigeration unit and stumble within before slamming it behind me. The flames weren’t reaching me here. The chilled air didn’t smell of smoke when I took a blind, unnecessary breath, and I was instead only treated to a nauseating mixture of my blood, my burnt flesh, and a few human concoctions I couldn’t place. Through the thick, insulated walls of the unit, I could clearly hear the fire alarms followed shortly by sirens. It wasn’t long before I heard muffled, shouting voices coming from within the club… firefighters, I surmised. I blindly searched the shelves I was slumped against. I recognized the shape of an open case of TrueBlood and opened a bottle of the cold, synthetic blood, draining it dry despite it’s undesirable qualities a few ways over. It was what I needed now if I intended on lasting even until dawn could kill me and take my pain with it. I drained three bottles of cold blood in short succession before I gained blurry, flawed vision. I barricaded the door of the unit as best I could in my weakened state. I could hear the firefighters, but knew rescuing a vampire would not be on their list of priorities, nor would they truly know what to do with me if they found me. Seclusion in the chilled prison was better. Also, it spared my already severely wounded pride. Once the door was blocked and I once more slipped down to the cold, damp floor to down a few more bloods that I felt her. The agitation and panic wasn’t my own. I was as calm as I could be given my condition and present surroundings. As I closed my still blurry eyes and simply let myself feel, I realized Sookie was very near, so near she was almost with me. I knew the personnel extinguishing the witches' fire would keep her from reaching me. A human life was much more valuable than that of a vampire to the average breather. I could feel her frustration at this, and though I ached with every ounce of my being, I allowed myself a brief, panged smile. I take no satisfaction in the pain I am sure she is feeling now because of me. I do not like the feelings of despair, desperation, and frustration she is nearly overwhelmed by now, knowing I am the cause. I do not want to think of her so near when the witches may not have gone as far away as I can only hope they have. I loathe the judgment I am sure she is inundated with, both aloud and in thoughts as she waits for me. But I am comforted by her nearness and by the idea that she is here because she wants to be. I can feel her affection, and it is the only warmth I can find in my present prison. My body is not remotely healed. I am broken. I am starving. I am in more pain than I can recall being in. I have no idea why this has happened and have far more questions than I have answers. But as I willingly submit to my daytime death, the only thoughts my mind knows belong to her, and I have never been more thankful for or more fascinated in another.

#Sookie Stackhouse #Brody Keyes #Witches #Hallow Stonebrook #Fangtasia #Pam Ravenscroft #Roman Lucious #Journal

[sheriffnorthman]

My Bonds: Petulant Pam

@fangtastic_Pam

London was no good for me. It was my first trip to the island nation since Bianca had left me- since I had forced Bianca to leave me- and I went to it seeking some kind of solace. I knew at once it had been a foolish thing for me to do. In the centuries it had been since I had prowled the streets nightly for my dinner and entertainment, the city had changed a great deal. A world that had been familiar to me had evolved. Even the house I had resided quietly in had been demolished and built over. I sought comfort, but only found myself reminded everything was different now. Everything, that is, except me. I don’t know that that is something a vampire ever comes to accept. In moments of quiet, it is so easy for one to think back and remember what we have done and where we have come from. Those memories are all that remain, however. The people die, the landscape changes, the world evolves, history moves on, yet we linger. To say that it’s depressing could be quite the understatement. I had been fortunate for the few centuries before then to spend little time in the confines of my tortured mind. Existence with Bianca had kept me busy and entertained. As she experienced the world as a young vampire, I felt it all through her eyes. I reserved very little time to dwell on my past and only let myself look forward to a future that would never end. Until the end. The despair I had felt when reminding myself that my child would come to leave me was encompassing. I had forced her away with my self-induced misery, but it was necessary and right. Unfortunately, it left me with a mind clouded by and consumed with gloom. I had always been independent, but now I felt more alone than ever. Women were more than willing to forego their chastity for a night with me, but none of them were special, least of all to me, and when I sent them on their ways, I always felt more alone than I had even before their arrival. I wanted to leave London. I wanted to leave and to never return to the damned city with its memories I no longer wanted. It panged me to be there. Yet, for the death of me, I couldn’t bring myself to depart. I couldn’t figure out why I stayed. It was as if I was determined to punish myself, a masochistic nature developing because I wanted or needed to be miserable. I was well aware of what I was doing, and I hated it. I felt as if I was not much more than a shadow of the vampire I once was. It was inexcusable. It had to change. I wanted nothing more than to change it. But I just couldn’t leave London. Looking back, I wonder if it was the fates that kept me there, because truly, I was rewarded for my suffering. I can recall the night in question with complete clarity now, over a century later, as if it was only last night. Hunting had grown easier in the time I had been away. London was more populous than ever and there was no shortage of humans to be found after darkness fell. While the other vampires I crossed paths with in London had been happy to feast upon and end the limitless vagrants, whores, and street urchins who were so easy to find in the darkened alleys of the city, I had a taste for finer things. Parks had become my chosen haunts. Once night fell, the severely understaffed London law enforcement had their hands full with the human creatures of the underworld to properly keep an eye on such “safe” locations. Of course, I had to avoid killing my prey to keep things that way, and with my mood at the time, it was difficult, but the rewards of keeping my resolve always paid off. The humans I could find strolling the well groomed lawns were always cleaner and more appealing than other available options. I could manage restraining myself for that luxury. The sun had been set for a relatively short time when I headed out to find my dinner for the night. My meal was unremarkable and dull. Dessert was something else entirely. I had been on my way back to the place I spent my daytime hours when I happened upon a curious sight. A young woman, dressed in her finest, was attempting to crawl down the side of a stately home from an open window… poorly. She was uncoordinated and overall a foolish sight, but the girl was oblivious to her own ridiculousness. She perpetually wore a devilish smile as she descended her home, a light trickle of nearly silent laughter leaving her rosy lips at regular intervals. She was being rebellious and doing something she ought not have, that much was clear. I couldn’t help but be curious. And so, I chose to follow her. Once she reached the ground beneath her, she took off in what must have been a run for her, heading to destinations unknown. I followed her easily, keeping a safe distance behind her and in the shadows at all times. She ran only a short time before I saw what she was headed for. A young man, only a few years her senior, stood alone beneath a tree, his eyes searching the darkness for the signs of someone. I saw him long before the woman did, but I knew the moment her poor, human eyes fell on him. The sharp, exhilarated intake of breath she took was not missed by my ancient ears. When she reached him, they embraced. She clung to him and he held her close. They exchanged quick, boring kisses while I studied the pair unblinkingly. Their whispered words were heard clearly by my ears. They were young, they were in love, but it was not to be. The woman- her name was Pamela- did more talking than the male. It was through her words I learned the basic nature of their situation. Her parents didn’t deem the man acceptable for her, but she wanted no other. She loved him, she was so certain of it. She would give up anything for him. He was worth sneaking out of her family home to meet since they were able to see one another so seldom. He would be leaving the home he was staying at soon, and she feared they would not see one another again. This human woman intrigued me. She was young and beautiful. In the moonlight, her blonde hair shined and her face was flush with excitement and intensity. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she spoke of their inevitable departure. She was so vulnerable and fragile and so passionately in love. I couldn’t truly tell if the man returned her affections as deeply. I had spent centuries studying human behavior, reading the smallest of gestures and hearing the unspoken words to keep myself safe and knowing more than my prey could ever dream. The woman’s love for this man was obvious, but he was restrained, almost distant. I doubt she noticed, too blinded by her own emotions, but I did. What a stupid human. Any man would be fortunate to have a woman so loyal and so willing to love him completely. And as soon as the thought entered my head, I thought of myself and the child who had just left me. Had I been foolish in pushing her away? No, I couldn’t think like that. She hadn’t loved me and I am not capable of love. Bianca was so like me in every way, I found it impossible to believe she was anymore capable of such affection than I was. But this creature in front of me could love, and did. The voyeur in me was disappointed when the pair parted ways after only a dozen kisses and embraces, but my disappointment was short-lived. The woman began her trail back to the dwelling she had left, the man going in the opposite direction to a home up the road, not even bothering to escort his “love” to make sure she made it home safely. And she wouldn’t make it home safely. I’d be seeing to that personally. She was heading towards me languidly, not running home in the way she had left it and instead strolling along blissfully unaware of the monster who lurked nearby. It allowed me time to think and consider what I would do. Already I had fed for the night. Spoiling this woman’s porcelain skin for nothing more than a taste would be such a waste. I wanted to fuck her, to see if she would look at me the way she had looked at her suitor, but her home was simply too close. If it was noticed she was missing, she would be searched for. I couldn’t risk being discovered screwing her amid her home’s garden flowers. I was running out of options, and more than that, I was running out of time with every lazy step she took back towards her house. I hadn’t thought about making another vampire again, really. Bianca and I hadn’t been parted for nearly as long as it felt we had to me. I had no real desire to go through the ordeal of training and preparing another child for an eternal existence. But I weighed my options all the same. A distraction would be good. Newborns were such a handful, I would have little time to let my mind wander to the darker places they had been frequenting so often. I was lonely. I hated admitting such a thing to myself, but I was. Having someone who needed me in order to survive would be invaluable. I would have someone to talk to, someone to talk to me, someone to hunt with, someone to teach. Companionship at such a time was more than a little appealing. And what did she have to lose? She didn’t enjoy life with her family, that much was obvious. If she truly did, she wouldn’t have disobeyed them nor snuck away from them of her own freewill. The man she loved would be leaving. She would be doomed to an unhappy future, one that would involve marrying a suitor she didn’t care for, and having a life wished upon her instead of one she chose. I wouldn’t let her choose whether or not to die, but I would give her freedom in time to do whatever she pleased. I am not an overbearing Maker. She would choose her fate. And so I stepped in front of her, blocking the path she took. She froze mid-step, her eyes slowly lifting to meet my own with only the moonlight for her to see them in. She was stunned, almost amusedly so, even before I glamored her easily into an agreeable and necessary silence. The only time she spoke was when I told her to invite me into her home that stood so nearby, and then they were whispered words spoken as if from a distance. My arms wrapped around her warm frame, supporting her as her neck lolled to the side on my whispered command. With no further hesitation or thought, my fangs pierced her tender flesh, and I drank. Only the racing of her heartbeat gave away her fear as I fed. She remained silent and obedient… and it was probably the last time Pam was ever silent and obedient. Looking back, I probably should have enjoyed it more for those few, very brief moments it lasted. I fed quickly. I didn’t take the time to enjoy the warm elixir that was her blood as it ran down my throat. I didn’t want to prolong any suffering as she met her human end. The strength of her heartbeat weakened as her body was drained of its essence, and when I could tell it would give out at any moment, I lifted her, flying up to the window I had witnessed her crawl through earlier in the night. I laid her spent body in the bed I found there. Her eyes were closed, but I could hear the weak resolve of her heart as it attempted to carry on despite my assault. I knelt by her bed before my fangs sank into my wrist, and easily, I fed it to her mouth. She swallowed weakly, choking on the foreign substance being forced upon her, but as I felt my blood begin to work it’s way through her system, I knew it had done it’s job. The wound my fangs had created upon her neck sealed over and I listened in the stillness of the room for her heartbeat to fade entirely. It was only a minute before her body was limp and lifeless on the bed. I hastily cleaned the blood from her mouth and neck, erasing the evidence of our exchange and found myself relieved I hadn’t made a mess of her clothes when feeding. She looked pristine despite being dead. That was perfect. As quickly as I had entered it, I left through the window, leaving it as open as she had. I knew little of human medicine, nor diseases they suffered from, but could recall from my own mortal life that it did not take much for infection to take someone, and quickly at that. I knew she would be discovered by her family shortly after the sun rose and laid to rest quickly. I was simply left to wait. I spent the three nights of her limbo preparing. I kept an eye on the house of her family and was able to find her grave shortly after it was dug. I gathered and packed my belongings, preparing to leave when my newborn rose. I would be leaving London now. There would be no way around it. And I was relieved. On the third night, I didn’t bother feeding when the sun slipped below the horizon and instead headed to the fresh plot I knew she was resting in. I dug into the recently churned earth swiftly, making short work of what had no doubt taken humans hours to accomplish. By the time I reached the box she was kept in, I knew she hadn’t risen yet, but it was only a moment more before her eyes opened and looked at me, her confusion and shock obvious and appropriate. I held her. I had held her only briefly the night I took her, but it was different now. Her body was colder, her movements more quiet. She never fought my grasp of her and she listened to my explanation without interruption. We couldn’t linger though, and quickly, I replaced the earth in her now empty grave as she adjusted to the world through unclouded eyes. The quiet, curious, reserved child somehow vanished by the time I was through filling the earth once more. Pam was nearly unbridled. I had been a Maker only a few times before, but never had I created such a feral thing. She took to hunting immediately, making a mess of herself, the humans she quickly ended, and often of me as well. She always mourned her clothes once they were too stained in blood to save, but refused to cease playing with her food in order to spare them. I introduced Pam to sex. It hadn’t been my intention on engaging in a sexual relationship with one of my children so soon after such a thing had ended, but it happened all the same. Pam was adventurous and newborns are so free, curious, and spirited, I found myself repeatedly falling into bed with her. Her tastes varied on a nightly basis, and more often than not I was simply left watching in amusement. We left London, naturally, though we stayed in England for some time. I told myself it was for Pam’s benefit, to keep her in a place that was at least familiar, but perhaps I was unwilling to entirely close the door. For ten years, we wandered through the north before finally returning to the city Pam had resided in and the city that haunted me. Our time back was brief. The New World was calling to me just as it was so many then. People were making the passage across the Atlantic on a more regular basis and the appeal of land I had never before explored was too tempting to resist. I was finally ready to close all previous chapters and move forward, starting afresh, starting new in a place without memories to burden me of things past. Pam and I found passage on a ship and fed sparingly throughout the journey, and before long, we were in America. We chose not to stay together, however. It wasn’t that I believed Pam was eager to leave me, nor that I thought she wouldn’t have stayed with me if I asked it of her. We got along brilliantly, despite the fact that I was, in her words, bossy, and she was, in my words, a spoiled and lazy pain in the ass. Still, she was nothing if not loyal, and I trusted her as I’ve trusted few in my long existence. The New World and it’s mysteries was for each of us to experience for ourselves, however. We kept in touch often, crossing the land that laid between us easily, though many humans perished making similar journeys themselves. We functioned with a natural ease. Our relationship ceased to be one of Maker and child. Despite distance, Pam had become my closest friend. She was crude, sarcastic, annoying, demanding, and judgmental, but I can’t imagine my existence without her. As methods of communication evolved with superior technology, we were capable of keeping in touch more easily, and we spoke often, though we were living vastly different lives. I had settled into politics with ease and Pam couldn’t comprehend why I had bothered. Though she was determined I could be a King, she had no motivation for such time consuming things herself. She was one of few vampires inhabiting the northern Midwest whereas I preferred staying in the South. When we first began discussing the idea of the Great Revelation, I contacted Pam for her input and thoughts. So, it was completely natural that once we “left the coffins,” Pam was the first vampire I contacted. The idea to open a nightclub had been one I had mulled over since before we made our announcement to the world at large, when it was finally a possibility, there was no other I could see making the venture with me. And Pam didn’t have to be asked twice. I never ordered her back. The idea didn’t even cross my mind. Pam and I simply function too well together to deny. Fangtasia is as much her baby as it is mine. As much as she complains about the work, the humans, the Kingdom of Louisiana, and the attire the club requires of her, I know she wouldn’t choose existing without it anymore. Pam makes decisions I can’t and don’t always approve of. She errors as much now as she did when she was first made. She complains perpetually. She often acts without ever thinking of a reaction. She is a smart ass. But I trust her wholly and completely, and I would not have made it through the last century without her.

#Pam Ravenscroft #Bonds #Love #Fangtasia #Bianca Northman #Politics #The Great Revelation

[sheriffnorthman]

What is your most memorable Twitter experience?

I had to think on this question for a while before I felt ready to answer it. I have been gracing Twitter with my antics and giving all a peek into my existence for just over a year now. Many, many things have happened in that time. Many that I am fond of, many that I am not so fond of, but many are memorable to me. In the end, I could not choose between two as “most memorable,” so I’ll share them both.The first would be the turning of my newborn, @NolanFerrior. It was something that involved a lot of thought and discussion, between Nolan and myself, between @pamiravenscroft and myself, between myself and @RomanLucious, and I even sought the opinions and feelings of some of Nolan’s closest friends… @LaceyTB and @AbigaleDawson.Weeks were spent debating if I could or should sever the bond between Pam and Nolan in such a way, and a great deal of uncertainty hung over the event since Nolan was a Werepanther during his human life. I had never turned one of the two-natured before and wasn’t completely certain he could transition to a vampire, but it was a chance Nolan was willing to take.The night Nolan chose to die, the two of us along with some of his closest friends and associates gathered for his final breaths and said goodbyes to the human who would never walk the earth again. It was a difficult event, but one that will probably haunt those present for as long as they exist.The second would have to be Dracula Night. Every year, Fangtasia holds a celebration in honor of @PrinceVladTepes's birth and this year was no exception to that rule. It is a well known fact that I am quite a fan of the Dark Prince and this year, I was certain the Master would grace my establishment with his presence, putting me in an even better mood than I normally have on the occasion.I spent the evening in a whirlwind. I kissed each and every one of my guests, from @BarmaidSookie to @NiftyJenny to @TeacherHalleigh to @AlyxConway to @RomanLucious. I don’t particularly like to talk about that last one. There was expensive blood for my vampire guests, unlimited drinks for my human guests, entertainment for all, and, of course, the Prince.But possibly what was most significant was a mutiny that occurred on that particular night. My queen at the time, Sophie-Anne Leclerq, had attempted to set me up for a crime I hadn’t commit and had been caught doing so. I had shown my Queen only unwavering loyalty, but it hadn’t been enough. She wanted to see my Deputy and myself ended… and quite frankly, I couldn’t allow for such a thing to happen.I enlisted the help of Texas (@Stan_Davis) and California (@QueenBlackwood). I had always been close to Gabrielle and respected Stan a great deal. After learning what Sophie-Anne had intended to do to me, they agreed to help me end the Queen of Louisiana. When she arrived to Fangtasia’s Dracula Night party with her child, Andre, Stan and Gabrielle ended the pair of them while Roman and I stood guard at the door. Louisiana became a territory of theirs, and Roman and I were the first to pledge our loyalty, which hasn’t wavered to this day.

#Ask The Sheriff #Nolan Ferrior #Dracula #Fangtasia