At first all was blackness, then the deep grey which wavered as the eyes grasped for some measure of the surroundings while starving for light. Starving like the Mouth of Hell for new souls. Starving like the Pit inside her, that infernal hunger that demanded so much more than blood, but rather what was carried inside it. The energy of life. That sliver of the soul. Fangs descended from her gums, her maw becoming that of Hell as every breath carried a bouquet of saccharine mixed with the tang of iron and copper, and something far richer besides. She brought a hand to her mouth and forced the fangs away so that she could imbibe the lavish crimson upon her flesh.
Her mind cleared as she sucked and licked a brief spotlight of clarity burning through the red mists of desperate need which fogged up the insides of her skull. And, just as a hint of inner clarity returned, so did the clarity of her vision. Things soon fell into focus. A colorless lens slipped into place, and she saw he was in a park. No, not a park, a glorified field of shabby grass with only a few sparse smatterings of trees along its edges.
This was not where she should be. She was not how she should be. She was branded, this she knew all too painfully, but it was clear the rite had most horribly gone awry. Or, perhaps, it had only gone awry in the face of their conceit and expectations. Clearly the abasement of her form and her willingness to subject herself to the abject, self shattering confrontation with her demonic soul was not enough this time. Galilei might not have demanded more, but ultimately it was not he who would accept her back into the fold. A far grander Master resided above them and it had found her wanting. Galilei as well. Otherwise this would not have happened and she would not have found herself here, at this crossroads of temptation and the peril of the Masquerade.
All of her ambitions, her reputation, her very life, all were in danger of becoming but ash upon the wind. She had sinned and then she had reached high, and now the hand of the lord was slapping her back down, forcing her into the one position which would lend insight back into her true purpose, and her true nature, and in ways that simple fire and prayer never could. The fist of the lord had not been cruel this night, even if it had been harsh, and she knew that if she were wise and if she were faithful she would find her way through this trial and emerge back among the Sanctified and the respected of the Domain. If she failed, it would but prove that she had strayed too far and that her purpose did not lie where she had placed it. Perhaps it would not even lie in this life. And, though bloody tears of shame and terror fell at the thought, and the fog of her mind and the pit within her ate at her, she could not yet give up. Not when Providence had lain such a chance for redemption before her.
Easing into a crouch, Josephine Sterling, Priscus of lords, scurried naked across the park, searching for some form of cover, some place where she could find her surroundings and then plot her hunt to ease the thirst for souls which burned inside.
Josephine activates Heightened Senses for sight. Also, Josephine is at 1 agg? And does she remember the frenzy, or does her memory stop as soon as the branding began?
Date |
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Action |
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Roll |
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Result |
2014-11-10 03:00:58 |
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Josephine rolls 8 to taste the blood (wits3+med1+spec+lordly palette3) (10 Again) |
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3, 6, 10, 6, 5, 1, 8, 8, 6 |
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3 successes |
Date |
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Action |
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Roll |
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Result |
2014-11-10 03:02:11 |
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Josephine rolls 6 to check surroundings (wits3+comp3) (10 Again) |
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3, 3, 8, 8, 3, 2 |
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2 successes |
Date |
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Action |
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Roll |
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Result |
2014-11-10 03:03:15 |
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Josephine rolls 5 to hide (wits/dex+stealth) (10 Again) |
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5, 4, 2, 5, 6 |
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failure |