The Mighty Wynd

[seyda]

OOC Note: In all of our talking yesterday, Dawn and I were able to agree with one thing; that Jeannie loved this game. Because of this fact, Dawn and I felt it appropriate to end the Wyndcryer story. This series was extremely difficult to write for both of us, and we hope we've done it justice. Thank you in advance for sharing this experience with us.

~Steph

****

The moon was well hidden by now, sunk below the trees to the west on its way to slumber the day away. Wyndcryer watched it in silence, the shuttered windows behind her keeping the rising sun from entering to harm her; hours had passed as her silver eyes watched that glowing orb trace its path out of sight. One slender, delicate hand rose to slide the shutters of this window closed as well, using the knuckles to avoid damaging the fragile object held tightly in her fist.

Crossing the room to the central couch, she lowered herself to it as if in a daze, both hands coming forward, fingers opening like flower petals to reveal the focus of her misery. Two tiny, glass butterflies that her ex-husband TygerNight had made for her when they'd first begun to fall in love. He'd gathered power in his large hands and blown his own breath over it to sculpt them out of the ether; perfect replicas of butterflies in glass that he gave a pseudo-life to. They'd fluttered about the Lair for weeks before their magic gave out and they'd settled, become solid and motionless glass. Much like her heart felt now.

She missed him. So terribly much. Their worlds weren't nearly as compatible as they themselves were, and they'd gone their separate ways so each could live their unlives as they chose. Hers had always been most enjoyable when she was working for her clan, gathering information, being a 'super-spy'; he hated all that, and it made their unlives rougher than they'd expected. But now that she'd begun rebuilding her clan life, her family life, without him, it suddenly seemed meaningless.

He was her heart and soul, as much as she was his. She couldn't continue in her unlife without him, and the realization hit her like an anvil out of the blue. Her heart ached to see him again, her arms cried to hold him. And he was gone. Her heart pounded like never before, so hard it hurt her, so much that she couldn't take the unbearable pain any longer.

Rising, she moved across the room once more, the glass butterflies gripped firmly, filling herself with their love for each other. One slender hand reached for the bolts, drew them back... Then flung the door wide to admit the morning light....

Joint post by:

TygerNight
Wyndcryer’s Eternally

and

Seyda St. John
Asmia’s Eternity
Yggdrasil

[seyda]

Part 2

Wynd had told her that she was okay and Seyda hadn’t believed it for a hot second. She had tried to sit Wynd down to talk about what was going on, but to be perfectly honest, that was never Wynd’s style. When she was upset, Wynd would come visit, sit around and talk about killing things, and then would hop up, give Seyda a kiss on the cheek and would be gone into the night.

Leaning back in her chair, Seyda stared out of the dark window silently. Relationships had been a key theme in the lives of a lot of her childer lately. It seemed like half of them had found their soulmates and were in the middle of experiencing the kind of love that Seyda had wished for all of them. The others appeared to be caught in the middle of a star-crossed universe where pain and love were married together with despair and desire in ways that Seyda herself could not describe. She tried her hardest to support them all, but she honestly felt like it was a useless endeavor. After doing what she could to help, whether it be talking about the situations and wiping away tears or deliberately not bringing up the topic at all, Seyda would be ripped with guilt when she walked into her home and shared her worries and pain while being held in the warm embrace of her wife. Seyda was convinced that if she felt like such a hypocrite, that they were also made painfully aware that the one supporting them had what they desperately craved. Some nights, Seyda felt like her mere presence would be enough to cause them pain. Because of this, Seyda had taken a more hands off approach with all of them, knowing that if she was needed, she would be able to sense it.

As the night wound to a close, Seyda did the exact same thing she did on most nights. She sat in the same chair, and stared out the window while opening herself up completely to the connections she had with her childer. Intense feelings of joy mixed with anger and loneliness rippled through her body. The emotions were overwhelming as they always were when she opened herself to them at once. She didn’t need to breathe, but the action in itself was soothing to her, and so Seyda inhaled and exhaled slowly. For some reason, on this night, the pain was more intense…so very much so that Seyda stopped focusing and headed to her bedroom to retire earlier than usual. Asmia was in her usual spot writing in her journal, and Seyda silently took her by the hand and walked toward their bed. Feeling completely helpless, Seyda climbed into the bed and laid her head on her wife’s chest without a word. She felt Asmia’s lips on her forehead, and pulling her wife tighter against her, Seyda’s eyes fluttered shut.

Joint post by:

TygerNight
Wyndcryer’s Eternally

and

Seyda St. John
Asmia’s Eternity
Yggdrasil

[seyda]

Part 3:

The pain jolted her awake. It was a physical pain that seemed to fill every portion of Seyda’s body, even down to the ends of her hair. She cried out in agony and pushed herself off Asmia and into a kneeling position on the bed. The pain was so terrible that she could barely see nor hear Asmia asking her what was wrong. After what felt like a lifetime but was really about thirty seconds or so, the pain suddenly stopped.

Silently, Seyda looked down at the backs of her hands. She turned them over and stared at her palms, while trying to make sense of it all. And then it hit her. She was missing a connection. Instantly Seyda tried to think and figure out what was amiss. Wringing her hands, she started rocking back and forth on the bed with her eyes closed. It was daytime. The sun was out. She wasn’t severed. Something horrible has happened. It was all so overwhelming; not only the pain she had just experienced, but the feeling of pure horror that had taken over which was making it almost impossible to sort things through. Asmia’s worry and concern was growing as well; she had gotten to the point where she was screaming Seyda’s name and shaking her for a response she just wasn’t getting. For almost a full minute, Seyda kneeled in this position with blood tears streaming down her cheeks, desperately pulling through the jumble of emotions to figure out what had happened and who was missing. Finally, she made the realization.

Seyda’s eyes flew open and she screamed out Wynd’s name. The room started spinning. Seyda dove for the side of the bed and bowled over Asmia in the process. Falling into the floor, Seyda didn’t think to stand. With desperate motions, she clawed at the carpet as she crawled across the floor to her bag. She just needed to get there. She would get there and everything would be fine. She was Seyda St. John. She could fix it. She could fix anything.

She reached her bag and stuck her hand inside, frantically feeling around for her scrolls. Pulling them out of the bag, she fumbled through them trying to tell them apart. She wiped her eyes to try and see, but as fast as she wiped, new tears were there to replace them. Looking back down, Seyda began fumbling again, and then the scrolls were gone. Turning, she saw Asmia with her bag and the scrolls. Lunging towards her, Seyda swung her arms towards the scrolls unsuccessfully. She heard Asmia say something about the sun almost being down and having to wait, but Seyda couldn’t make sense of the words. All she knew is she needed to get there and fix it, and Asmia was keeping her from doing that. She lunged again and came up short. She let out an angry scream and then realized that Asmia didn’t have anything in her hands anymore. She couldn’t believe this. She needed to fix it. Sobbing uncontrollably, she crawled to Asmia, buried her face into her stomach and began begging her over and over to let her go.

She wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed and she didn’t care. All she knew was that the begging had worked and there was a scroll being held out to her. She took it and held it in her hands and rattled off the familiar incantation and headed towards the place she had been several times before. Running up to the door, she stopped in her tracks. The door is open. Something on the stoop…glass. Is that a wing? Oh no, not the butterflies, not them, no, no, no, no…

It was at that second that Seyda knew. There wasn’t any fixing this. She was gone. Fresh tears welling up in her eyes, Seyda held her head in her hands as her eyes stared at the glass wings, allowing herself to fully take in that this was the last place her daughter existed. Kneeling, Seyda continued staring. Reaching out, she picked up the wing carefully. Holding it in her palm, the full force of exactly what happened hit her. Seyda closed her eyes and started rocking slightly. Why didn’t I go last night? I should have known. I could have stayed there. Letting the wing fall out of her hand, Seyda placed the heel of her hands on her temples as grief began to overtake her. I should have known this was coming. I should have known. I should have called on them all. Closing her fingers tight around her hair, Seyda pulled her hair tight as she moved her palms over her eyes. With her blonde hair mixing with the blood tears, Seyda continued rocking, willing things to be different…wishing that when she opened her eyes she would be in her bed and all of this would be a dream. But, she knew deep down that it wasn’t and as she continued with her silent prayer, the sobbing began.

Joint post by:

TygerNight
Wyndcryer’s Eternally

and

Seyda St. John
Heartbroken

[seyda]

Part 4:

The shallow spot TygerNight had found to wait out the sun's path across the sky couldn't exactly be called a 'cave', but it kept the deadly sunlight from striking his skin while he slept. Or tried to. He'd left his family earlier the night before, feeling an unease to which he could put no cause, no definition, and no rest. His feet had led him here, to where he'd so often come when his mind was troubled; the trees. There was a sort of solace to be found within their shade that even he could feel, and so he'd wandered among the trunks and leaves until the sun threatened to show its deadly face.

He'd slept, albeit fitfully, curled with his back to the bare soil behind him, a fringe of overhanging fauna barring the sunlight's advance to disturb him. But he needed no sunlight to be disturbed; his dreams were haunted, filled with anguish and pain, and woke him several times with low moans. The sounds of someone in a heartrending agony, and though he'd been desolate since losing his wife Wyndcryer, and rebound to Neko for her moral support, he knew the depth of pain that such a sound was born of. It had filled his heart and soul since their severance, and torn at him day after day. He tried again to slip under the blanket of unconsciousness and escape the world for a time...

Suddenly, without warning, the world turned into pain. A bright, blinding pain that encompassed every fiber of his being, that shattered his thoughts into fragments of nonexistence, and threatened to break him body and soul. Every pore exuded agony, and he writhed in the dirt, his spine arching with the excruciating pain, slamming him against the ground as it released and arched again. Over and over, it seemed to last forever, with his body seizing helplessly, his mind blasted into ruin incapable of thought, guttural sounds of the transferred pain ripping from his throat continually.

At last, at long last, it ended, and left him gasping, shaking, muscles spasming erratically for long moments after the initial burst was done. He lifted one long, large hand to his face and watched his fingers dance of their own accord, watched them and tried to remember how to think.

"She's in trouble.... I need to reach her..." Was all that came into his mind, the words repeating and echoing, driving him. His fingertips smoked and began to burn as he tried to part the fronds protecting him, and he drew his hand back with a hiss of anger. He couldn't leave now; he couldn't help her if he was ashes again...

He considered Teleporting directly into the Lair, but realized its position forbade that; he'd wind up across the street, a smoking pile of ash that could help no one. Least of all Wyndi, the light of his unlife and the soul that propelled his existence. Unlife was meaningless without her, but he kept going, trying to occupy himself with ridiculous verbal sparring and pushing the buttons of the City's bullies. It was a thin 'hobby', true, but there were always so many who were eager to push his buttons in return. And Wyndi had always known how to un-push them, so to speak.

Her gentle love had changed him, but few could tell, his heart was full of adoration for her above all others. She was his ray of light in a City of darkness. And he couldn't reach her. In his growing panic, he began unconsciously shifting into the form she'd loved so much, his white bengal tiger form, barely able to fit in the small space. Cramped and agonized, the great white head butted the ceiling of dirt, showering it down on his fur, and his enormous jaws parted to begin a series of earth-shattering roars. Sounds of his pain, and what he now recognized was her own, releasing it to fill the world as soon as it filled him up. On and on the keening cries sounded, until even the tiger was spent, into the late afternoon, when the roars fell to whimpers and then silence, the sleep of exhaustion robbing the beast of his voice.


Joint post by:

TygerNight
Wyndcryer’s Eternally

and

Seyda St. John
Heartbroken

[seyda]

Part 5 [RP Open From This Point]:

Silverblue eyes snapped open with a sudden return to full awareness, already dismissing his form's change in sleep; he was his pyre self again and he didn't care how or why. She needed him, and he had lost time. So much time, valuable time. Scrambling out of the cave on hands and knees, he lurched to his feet, fingers scrabbling at the scrolls tucked into his pocket, discarding them carelessly until he found the one he needed, and the familiar words leapt to his lips and fell to the earth, his form vanishing like smoke.

As the City reformed about him, his gaze swept at once to the Lair's entrance, his feet already carrying him toward the doors, only belatedly realizing there was someone there, kneeling on the stoop. His frown deepened, his panic increased, his heart racing madly in its uselessness as he sprinted across the street. Long before reaching the figure, he knew it wasn't Wyndi, but he was more shocked to find it was her Sire, Seyda. And that Seyda was... rocking on her heels, her hands tangled in her own hair. Confusion joined the panic and he dropped to his knees far too soon, skidding along the cement of the stoop to fetch up at the bottom step, one hand reaching without thought to the shoulder of the woman he'd had so many harsh words with.

His silverblue eyes, though, sought out the sparkling shards that played the streetlights back at him, mocking him; he stared and blinked, then it clicked into place when the fragments of wings became apparent to him.

"Oh Goddess... no... "

The low moan slipped from numb lips, one hand still upon Seyda's shoulder, gripping ever more tightly unaware of even doing so. The other hand reached out, lifted a shard to his eyes, eyes that knew the work he had once wrought for the pyress who'd captured his heart and his soul. He'd learned a trick in the Ghettos back then, weaving glass from the air, giving it a false, fleeting life; he'd crafted them for his Wyndcryer for their first Valentine's day, every ounce of his love breathed into their short existences.

The world blurred on him, tears spilling down his cheeks before he was aware of the sorrow, silverblue seeking through the litter, finding the ashes strewn about, the work of the killer sun. All that remained of his heart and soul, already drifting with the breeze that carried no freshness to his aching mind. His gaze seemed to harden, to lose the life that she had lent them, the joy she had given him, and the desire to go on. Tyger's head swiveled slowly until his gaze, bereft of anything but soul-numbing grief, rested upon her, still unaware of gripping her shoulder, of his instinctive sending of what strength he had.

When Seyda felt the hand on her shoulder, she wasn’t exactly sure who it was. Her senses were blunted in her grief, and even as she opened her eyes, the scene before her lay streaked with shades of blonde and red. Turning her head slightly, Seyda looked at the hand on her shoulder, and then her gaze followed up the arm until finally she saw Tyger. He was looking back at her, and as their eyes met, Seyda tried to think of something deep and profound to say; but the only thing to escape from her lips were more sobs. After a few seconds, she pulled herself together and said, “Tyger, she’s gone.”

Shock caught Tyger's breath, shock at seeing this pyress, so strong and iron-willed, brought to her knees in grief, so much so that it drilled through the fog of numbness rapidly creeping into him, making him aware of his surroundings.

The butterflies. They were broken. Like her heart, and his. Because they'd stayed too far apart. Seyda's voice was hoarse with tears, and his silverblue eyes skittered from her face, to the remnants of glass and ashes, around to nothing, unable to focus for long moments. Bit by bit he released his grip on her shoulder, the tension of his knuckles finally awakening him to how hard he held her, nearly punching his nails into her skin.

Then the tremors began.

Shockwaves of agony rent his frame yet again; this time, his own. Her pain had torn at him at daybreak, and now his coursed through him like an electric current. It burned through him, sizzling his nerve endings, obliterating thought again, muscles twitching like a marionette with its strings cut. It seemed forever before they subsided, leaving him damp with sweat and tears, and he sought the voice Wynd had so loved to hear; it emerged as a guttural moan that sounded like a wounded animal.

"No... I can't exist without her..."

A lost keening began in his throat then, silverblue orbs spilling tears again like a waterfall, turning the world into a watercolor painting without the color. Staggering halfway to his feet, he tripped up the few steps, one knee coming down on a bit of jagged glass he'd created for her and embedding itself deep in the cartilage. He barely noticed.

Dirt-stained fingers that once caressed Wyndi's cheek with a world of tenderness now dug and rooted through the debris, ash coating his skin as he tried in vain to gather her remains before the breeze carried her away forever.

But... she was already gone forever... and so was his soul. His heart. His will to go on. All of that was wrapped up in the amazing pyress named Wyndcryer, and all that was left of that blazing light in his darkness was... ashes.

His butt hit the stone hard as he sat numbly staring at the fine grains, gaze skipping up toward Seyda, the words of apology on his lips but silenced before birth, his grief overwhelming his senses. He slowly became aware that there were others appearing in stark silence, pyres and pyresses from across the City, from across Clans and families, from her family to her foes... they began to come...


Joint post by:

TygerNight
Wyndcryer’s Eternally

and

Seyda St. John
Heartbroken

[Damari]

She never let the city get to her. Maybe is was a missing chipin how she was hard wired and maybe she had that missing link when she was a human but the truth remained that very little, very few and even less emotional attachment reached her in this city.

There was comfort in the blithe disdain she held for the most part to nearly every other vampire in the city and she took that comfort and let it warm her on the nights she sat, for the most part alone, in her café enjoying the solitude of her self imposed ~Silence.

But this one found her stopping and thinking about her unlife. What would happen if she were to leave this city and true death find her. She had lived her unlife with the haughty disdain of a creature who believed herself immune to the rigors of being human. There was no aging for aging didn’t exist for her.

Her face didn’t change for the years that past didn’t touch her, not in the texture of her skin, or he feel of her hair. She didn’t grow, didn’t age and time had stalled its pace that it took a moment like this for her to realise that even as a vampire she wasn’t immune to…. Death.

Damari stared at her phone for a long time. Reading the message that sat there for even longer. Slowly she stood up from her prone slump and walked over to the computers lined across the front of the café and switched one on. With careful deliberation she tapped in the key words that would give her access to the information she wanted and there she read.

The world had stilled in a quiet that rushed like a blistering zephyr through the calm that had settled on her. With even more controlled deliberation Damari pulled a scroll and willed herself to the clan halls. There was no need for words, because at the moment she didn’t have any. But somewhere in the dark reaches of her heart emotion bubbled.

It was strange for her, as immune as she’d tried to make herself to the vagaries of this city but this time, this news rocked her stability.

She checked in the clan halls and the same news had spread like a wildfire and this time she retired to her rooms on the fourth floor and sat in an ugly arched chair that had no business where it was, but she found odd comfort in.

Playing with the dials on the console to her left she bit her lip and closed her eyes, a tear dropped. Just one because one was all she allowed to fall.

Damari was a funny creature, contrary by nature, reclusive by choice and over it all held firm a façade that at times was a mile thick and sometimes tenuous at best covering the humanity she loathed and kept hidden.

A crack in that fissure widened as the news sunk in. If you’d have asked her she wouldn’t be able to tell you what moved her. Whether it was the true death of a vampire she respected or the fact her own humanity and mortality was realised. Maybe it was both, or maybe it wasn’t any of it. But for now, in the silence of her own space, with no one but the echo-ing emptiness of an apartment that held only her. She let that emotion hold sway.

And in her own way, for her own reasons and because she would never have thought to join others in their pain, she grieved for the loss of a vampire she thought was good stuff.

To Wyndy

Good Bye Friend & Clan mate.

[nitenurse]

A sister's tribute

A flash of light. Blinding pain, then stillness. From a dead sleep, nitenurse cried out and sat up. What was she feeling? The bedroom was dark, quiet. The alarms on the clan emergency phone were dark. She looked down at her sleeping wife. Nara murmured softly and tugged at her sleepily to go back to sleep. Something was not right. She could feel it in every fiber of her being.

Uneasy, and unable to close her eyes and relax, she laid down, nestled into Nara's arms as she pondered the pain she'd felt. She reached out to each of her childer, the connections strong as they slept. Nothing was amiss with them. Carefully, she reached out to her sire, probing tentatively, not wanting to intrude. All she felt was fear, pain and despair. Intense pain. Why was that? It was a sensation she’d never felt from Seyda. What could possibly have her in so much pain that she'd feel it?

"I need to go," she announced to no one in particular, sliding out from Nara's embrace. She quickly tossed on jeans and a shirt and grabbed her emergency bag. Her sire needed her. Whatever was causing that despair, she had to go. She had to help. She'd just gotten to the top of the stairs when it hit her. It was daylight. The automatic shutters were down. She couldn't just run across the yard to the bathhouse. The sensation she got were incoherent, jumbled. She doubted that even a telepathic message would be understood, much less a phone call.

Pacing restlessly, she couldn’t concentrate enough to even log into the computer to send a message. She debated calling the driver with the blacked out car, but she didn’t know where she was going. She didn't know for sure that Seyda was at home. She was going to need to succour to find her. It seemed like forever when the shutters finally rose, and she could see the last purplish streaks of light in the sky. She grabbed a scroll and read the incantation and held her breath.

Blinking a few times, she looked around. Wyndcryer’s lair? What was she doing here? She took a few steps and then stopped dead in her tracks at what she saw... Seyda and Tyger? Only one thing could have them together like that…

~~

Her heart was heavy, but this was a job that she didn't want to delegate. No, cleaning out her sister’s quarters was a job nitenurse would take care of for herself. With a quick message sent to her assistant, she trudged up to the 2nd floor and used her master key to open the door. Wynd had her own house in the city, so the room was sparsely furnished. It was really just shelter when clan meetings went late, or when she needed it. But she could still feel Wynd's presence.

Personal things, souvenirs, in a way were scattered around the shelves. The box in the closet with the toys was the first thing that Amy pulled out. She didn't say a word as she opened it and took a quick blushing peak. Those were not the kind of toys that one bought at FAO Schwartz. Nitenurse just smiled, and thought back to her introduction to Wyndcryer shortly after joining the Republic. Seyda had just offered to sire her. She could have "a boy, a girl and a hermie," was the comment with a vague reference to wild times. That was her first impression of her soon-to-be sister. Uninhibited with a streak of wild.

Images fleeting, and tinged with emotion filled her mind as she slowly packed the medallions that would go into the archives. Master of Kickassery… yeah, that was her sister. First time they met in person was on a dark street, just outside the bank. EoE was at war, and Wynd needed to restock. They weren't yet sisters, but knew it was coming. Nitenurse had handed her the coin pouch with a simple "go get 'em." Wynd had smiled, a quick smirk with a gleam in her eye that spoke of her enjoyment of the battlefield and nodded her agreement. She watched her run off, a pang of jealousy knowing she didn't yet qualify to be an Enforcer. She would. She vowed that the next time fighting broke out, she'd not be sitting back, making beer delivery runs. Nor was she. How many skirmishes had they fought side by side? It was hard to remember now but the voice in her mind was ingrained. Weapons at the ready, they'd wait for the call, fly to their sire's side .... hit the target and then go grab a beer or three. Or something more exotic. Wynd was always at her side manning the liquor supply during meetings. "5 minutes of business, an hour of laughing," was the joking description.

Moving to the dresser, she boxed up the shirts, and jeans that had been left here. It wasn't until she got to the top drawer that it got to her. The granny panties. Plain cotton. Boring white. Big girl panties. Never actually worn, but symbolic of something that they both understood. They both had a pair. Sort of a inside joke between sisters. Her eyes welling up, she could hear Wynd’s voice "I really screwed up, didn't I?" and then with a deep breath, and a clasp of hands they would nod to each other. "Time to put on the big girl panties." If there was one thing they both understood it was that anything could be forgiven, but one had to face the consequences of one's actions. Nothing less than the whole, unvarnished truth was acceptable, nor would delaying the inevitable make it any easier. If anything, it was better to get it over with. The anger would burn hot but the slow simmer was worse. That was how they both learned. They put on their big girl panties and trudged down the hall to the big office to talk to the mompire. And never made that same mistake again.

What was a sister? What did it mean? It was more than just sharing a sire. More than the bond of a bloodline. Lost in her own thoughts, she strolled over to the window, ignoring the murmurings of the staff behind her as they finished sealing and labeling boxes. Shared experiences, some more fun than others. The events ticked off, like pages on the calendar. Divorces, bindings, Seyda’s death, running the gauntlet against each other... and then taking over the clan. Things changed then. For them both. Since she became consul, they'd not had the time to just sit and talk, commiserate over what stupidity was going on in the city, or who was binding to whom, who was fighting with whom, or might start. Wynd was an information junkie just like she was. She never knew if Wynd's act of rebellion was testing her resolve or if she really didn't think that anyone would react as they did. Taking her sister's key had been the hardest thing she'd ever done. Certainly she'd done it in anger. Every key she ever deactivated was done with a touch of fury. That one hurt though. This one proved that she could and would act in the clan's best interest, even if it hurt. Even against family. Even when Seyda had severed her, she thought of Wynd as sister... and when she came to her that cold winter day to talk about the possibility of coming back, it warmed her. It took months before it happened but it did. Then, only then, did she feel complete again. Her sister was back, was a sister in blood not just heart. Bringing her back to the clan was the final step. She had her sister at her side. She thought it would be forever. She'd never imagined it would end like this.

And now... locked away were precious memories, never to be forgotten. Handing the key for the storage area to her assistant, she paused for a moment to look at the now empty apartment. Time to go.Nara knew what she was doing... she'd be ready..

~~

nitenurse st john
consul, The Republic
Nara’s eternally
Seyda’s babygirl
Wynd’s sister and fellow brat

[Josephine]

She had been restless that evening. Another fight with Pulse another dancing around that same old pain; the same sense of helpless betrayal and longing and a dance she personally feared would never end between them. Her arms wrapped once more around the human child she called hers; her fosterling. Her home stood empty, staying instead at her sire’s home, taking the time to know safety and security and re-gather her thoughts after sleeping.

It had been a time of heart break for many of her sisters, yet Josephine had issues rising above hers to give solace to those she loved. Wynd and Tyger, Kat and Arias; she wanted to comfort them even if she didn’t know her big sister that well, wanted to wrap her in a hug and tell her it would heal. Josephine hated lying and so didn’t. The wound was still there for her; silent but for private. Locked in her fears of severance should she make waves, lost in that sea of maddening grief that came from the hopeless love she held.

This new uneasiness before the dawn was strange to her. The sun’s rising didn’t drag her down this time, didn’t force her to sleep. Instead she lay there, pinned by exhaustion to feel that unease; the fear of something horrible going wrong. Her gaze vaguely focused on the small bassinet that lay close to her bed. The child was safe; it was enough to soothe her to sleep.

Pain, grief, anguish; it rolled down the link twining and tuning with her own muted emotions to bring her awake with a gasp. Her form trembled, shook with the effort of just being awake this late in the day. Youth was a disadvantage in their world yet she felt her Mother’s pain. Seyda, the sire of her heart and beloved mother was in pain.

Her mother needed her. It was all Josephine could think as the sun set. Then her cell went off, text after text came into her phone as she snatched it up. ‘Wyndcryer is gone..’ Her throat constricted as tears threatened to well. Wynd; a sister she had barely spoken too, not from disinterest but simply a lack of time- assuming they would have eternity to talk and laugh with one another.

Too short proved eternity; her fingers pushed the button as she simply texted her sister back ‘ I am coming’ Kat would no doubt have made arrangements already for the organization. Hands took up one of her scrolls, her fingers breaking the seal in a daze. Wynd was gone, one of Seyda’s first childer, part of their family was gone forever.

Slowly she mouthed the incantation. The rush of the magic flooding her earned a grasp breaking that silent shell she had wrapped herself in as the spell flung her across the city landing her in home. Succor, succor to her sire. It was there she went gently wrapping her arms around Seyda. Her head bowed even as she looked at Tyger; knowing his grief, wondering if she would live should something similar happen to Pulse. Wondering how this could have happened, yet knowing the truth. Vampires could die of a broken heart.

“I am sorry Tyger Kitty….Ohh Momma I am sorry…I wish I had known Wynd better. “ Stupid words, hardly witty or bright; but ones she felt from her heart. “I thought we had eternity…” A hard swallow given to keep from weeping at the loss. She fell silent after her first few words, feeling as other sisters started showing up. They were family, and in the end they would stand together through grief.

~ Josephine Toujours-St. John
Seyda's youngest childe
++In Mourning++

[Rykoth]

Rykoth's Journal
June 7th, 2009

The legend of the vampire says that we are the things that go bump in the night. The horrors human's fear.

Nowhere in the legends has it ever said vampires feel the pain of loss....

Rykoth remained perched on a rooftop. His Shroud attached for this night, that shroud he gave up so long ago. The color was not the Crimson Despair it usually was, but Black. His heart was black. His mind was black. His mood was black. How could it not be? He didn't know Wyndcryer well. But he knew her enough to know she was his friend, even if they hadn't spoken too terribly much in recent days.

There was a cloud over the city, over Ravenblack. The cloud was thick, and it was dark. One of the finer vampires, one of the most trustworthy vampires had fallen. He would be there for the vigil. He would be there for his friends. No matter what bullshit he was dealing with, no matter what strange things he was dealing with - this took precedence.

And so he watched, quietly.

And he mourned.

[Moons]

He stared. Plump, ashen lips were slightly parted, revealing only the tiniest hints of a pink tongue and pearly fang. Irides swirled, sapphire luminous with unshed tears; it simply couldn’t be true. Reaching out, he felt cool tendrils of onyx wrap around his pale digits as if the shadows were but a glove, eyes flashing with second sight as he sought for her. She was gone. His free hand slid the panel of his cell phone upwards to reveal a keyboard below, a few lone tears streaking down his cheeks as he hastily replied, before shoving the mechanical device into its holder at his hip.

Those tentacle-like strands of obsidian lapped at his wrist, and he let the darkness embrace him. Moments later he stood on the street corner of Unicorn and 77th. He had made sure to appear a few paces off of the lair, not wanting to let the others see the puffiness of his eyes. He would have time to break down later, time later to mourn the pain that he felt, but now was not for him. Now was for the others who’d lost. Sapphire spun, spiking into a duller tone until it settled on gun-steel grey hues, as if his optics acted only to show his resolve.

He was one of the first ones there, but the attendees were far from few. Over the next few hours, and rolling into the next day there were more, so many more who came to pay tribute. There were others, those who only wanted to disrupt, but they were swiftly dealt with. He’d signed up to aid in the memorial that the matriarch of his line had dictated be put into place, and had gone about his duties in that. He’d made sure to be a shoulder for others to cry on, and a set of arms to wrap around those in need, but even so the pain did not go away and did not ebb.

Finally, in the near dawn hours of the second night of the vigil, he had some time to pull away from the throng that’d gathered. He curled up in a nondescript room within the Lair, and let himself truly begin to mourn. Wynd had always been good to him. The two had fought together in the past, and he’d known her for a long time, not as long as many, but he’d only ever known her to be a good woman. During his marriage to Bambi, she’d been more than willing to accept him like a son, and had always given him a room within her home. Moons did not really know her as well as he would have liked to, but she’d touched his life.

“Silly Spider.” He murmured to himself as sobs racked his form, shaking free the tears so that they could run down his cheeks. It was an indulgence for him. He hated to be locked away when he should have been helping out, but he couldn’t help the others with their pain if he was going to be a wreck himself. Aggressions could be taken out on those who’d desecrated the grave site, but sorrow had to be born out in another way, and so he let himself cry, let himself be sad for the loss of an amazing woman, and for the space that her departure had left in the hearts of so many that he loved. [/font]

[Nephriel B. R. de laFronde]

Trembling fingers clutch the parchment in a tight grip as misted, white eyes read over the Scroll of Teleportation. No sooner had his lips uttered the last word off the scroll had Nephriel de laFronde been transported to the corner of Unicorn and 77th, where a small group of his Elders had already arrived.

His small, lithe form moved swiftly under the gentle glow of the stars. Like a streak of black, Nephriel’s usual stark, white attire had been traded in to fit the state of his being. His mind had been running a blank. Much like a void, it took the world around him but refused to process anything. In his arms he clutched a small, framed picture; a portrait perhaps the size of a notebook with a snippet of lyrics* he understood to have matched the feelings of many vampyres that night. Something he had created with much hesitation, from memory and from what he had collected in his random glimpses of her in the City. Setting his tribute down near the door to the Lair, he stepped back quietly.

A heavy heart was something the young vampyre hadn’t felt for decades but from the moment he had heard the news, his ribcage seemed to have contracted; crushing the trachea to keep that one undead organ in his chest intact. Soundlessly, he stepped up next to his Mother figure, Josephine. After a few consoling words and a gentle embrace, he let his Mother step inside the Lair, waiting outside respectfully to let friends and family congregate in the abode of the vampyress, Wyndcryer.

Wyndcryer…

The name echoed inside his self-created abyss. She was perhaps a vampyress he had spoken to very few times, but each conversation had been a delight for the young man and he had immediately picked her up as beautiful soul, known for her kindness. A glance of TygerNight stirred something inside him. For one moment in all his years of existing, Nephriel cursed the principles upon which he survived. He cursed the idea of love. He cursed the mind-boggling beauty that had been intertwined the tragedy. He watched the figure for a few more minutes before dropping to one knee with his head bowed in respect, for this love between Wyndcryer and TygerNight was exemplary.

Eternal love really was just that. Eternal.

------

* Enya - If I Could Be Where You Are

[Chiru]

Chiru turned towards her phone, she had not understood the message at first, she could not believe it, and no perhaps she didn’t wish to believe it. She found herself thinking of times she had heard about Wyndcryer and her mind thought back to the few times that she really had stood out to Chiru.

There were many most seemed to deal with her being respectful, or what Chiru deemed as respectful for she was sure not everyone saw the same things in what she said. Those without any doubt in Chiru’s mind there had been a sense of playfulness about Wyndcryer, there had been this way about her though Chiru could never and still could not put her finger on it. Chiru knew that Wyndcryer had always seemed to bring a smile to her face. The two accounts that really had stood out to Chiru, which even now brought a smile to her face, regardless of the pain someone whom you did not know outside of the newspaper, outside of what others had to say about them could bring.

The first thing that hit Chiru had been when Wyndcryer had given Kaio credit for being a good sire or more so given the Devil it’s due. The second and last being Wyndcryer’s comment to the Midnights about paying the Splinters, which had brought more than a smile but a laugh, though now she could not bring herself to laugh she could not help the smile that fell across her face.

Chiru knew that the news had caused her own heart to feel pain for the lost and she knew that those who had been ever so close to her must be completely lost in their own grief. While she did not have grand scale memories, while she did not call her friend or enemy or family. Wyndcryer herself had found a way into Chiru’s memories and that alone was a good enough reason to pay final respects where she had last stood. So with that thought in mind Chiru had opened the scroll speaking the words to herself and allowed the smoke to wrap around her.

As the smoke cleared she found a place among the crowd who had gathered and there she lowered her head and began her prayers, prayers for those who were still left and prayers for Wyndcryer. She hoped inside that Wyndcryer found peace in her final moments, had found the answer to everything, had found a way to truly end this story of hers, though it was a sad chapter for those who would be left behind who had known her the best. No she wanted to believe these things; she wanted to believe that in her final moments Wyndcryer had found peace of mind where she could not find it among this world.

~Chiru
Rest in Peace Wyndcryer

[vermathraxrex]

Within his trance, he felt it. A small echo fading to nothing among the choirs of echoes that made up the living (?) part of the landscape around them all. His eyes opened as he considered the event a bit deeper. It had always been his experience that when one of those who walk between life and true death expire-it was quick, rapid and sudden. No pleas for mercy and long winded dying decorations.
They are there and then suddenly, they are not.
Moments later, Phineus interrupted her sire's meditations and gave a name to the echo he suddenly noticed was gone-Wyndcryer.

To be honest, he could only recall speaking to her once or twice, and it was only in passing. Most of the memorable conversations was with her (then) mate Tyger, but he knew of her and her reputation as a warrior.

But it did not matter in the long run. Another of their kind had slipped beyond the extent of their neither existence and gone to a place where even his necromancy was hard pressed to reach them. He could focus now and feel the echoes changing now. Feelings of loss and pain floating about some of the echoes as the city united slowly began to realize what had occurred.

With a thought, the energy flowed around him as he teleported to the vigil that had began to assemble around the home her and Tyger had shared. Phineus joined him quickly and he noticed some of his other children already there as well.

He said nothing. As he admitted to himself already-he did not know her enough to speak. Anything he would have said would be considered false, especially along the lines of who she was and what she was. He was surrounded by those who could honestly articulate such things with true feelings and truth. He stood there in silent respect for a time before returning to his studies and meditations. The passing of Wyndcryer was a reminder that-despite all their bravado and bluster of being eternal and immortal-ALL of them could simply fade from this un-existance within a blink of an eye and no gods, sorcery or devotion could encourage them to return once that line had been crossed.

Silently he whispered prayers to his own patron goddess, asking for comfort and guidance to those who knew her the best. A piece was now missing from the great puzzle that made up this place. It could be argued that new pieces arrived daily to add to the mosaic that made up this city, but when pieces vanish, the whole suffers for it.

Even if it is a piece that normally had no direct effect upon one personally, for they were all linked together if they liked it or not.

He resumed his meditations, but the echo of loss was still there among the rest.

(blessings and prayers to both the humans and inhumans who knew her best.)

[Bambi]

Bambi yawned silently, stretching out as best as he could in the narrow convinces on the ventilation shaft. The heels of his boots squeaked softly against the flattened steel as he wriggled his way back towards the grid that just a few hours before he had prised off of the wall. He’d slept in far worse places then this.. like under the floorboards of an abandoned warehouse and once in one of those plastic portable toilet cabins. He couldn’t help that he had no track of time once he got into flirting mode and he’d been having fun, flirting with the Thalia Guard once again. Pushing the grid away from the wall, Bambi slid to the ground in a dusty and undignified heap. He stood, arching his back and stretching his slender arms over his head, twisting his neck until he felt the muscles complain. Lowering his left arm to brush the cobwebs from his too-tight black jeans, his right hand carefully tended to his dark hair, ensuring the elaborate, curved Mohican hairstyle was intact. Unlike most punks, Bambi had always refused point blank to shave his head to achieve this look, using instead plenty of gel to sweep his hair upwards making him resemble a punk Elvis. Hair checked, he lowered his hand automatically to his fly, making sure it was done up before adopting his trade mark grin and sloping towards the exit and home.

The night was chilly and Bambi shivered involuntary, cursing himself for leaving his jacket in his room and opting to go out in just his favourite white t shirt, worn with age and depicting two cowboys naked from the waist down, skinny black jeans and heavy, army surplus boots, crusted with mud and the blood stains from too many fights. His mobile phone began to vibrate in his back pocket as it received a signal and the messages began to come through but the youth chose to ignore it. All he wanted to do was get home and get to bed. He bit his lower lip as he walked, feeling a bit guilty for treating Wynd’s home like a doss house and hoping he wouldn’t get a lecture yet. He was a little hung over, not that he’d admit to it and his mouth was as dry as Ghandi’s flip-flop. He stopped a few blocks from home and turned towards the nearest bar, deciding he’d grab a quick hair of the dog first.

Several coins later, the boy left the bar, a little light headed and no longer feeling the cold. He called in a discount store and brought a single red rose for his Moms before heading home. Well, attempting to head home. Bambi stopped and stared at the crowd of vampires that surrounded his home, some that he recognised and others that he had maybe seen once or twice in the ghettos.

“That’s nice.. ‘ave a party and don’t bovver to tell me.” He muttered under his breath, his face clouding a little with the anger that comes with youth and misplaced jealousy. He tucked the stem of the rose down the front of his pants and, keeping his head lowered, began to slip past the others until he reached the front door. The place was packed out which annoyed Bambi even more, as did the loud voices around him that he blocked out by singing a crude song internally. He huffed as he realised that he couldn’t even get into his home and was forced to turn around to take a run up. Walking back, he passed his partner bound, which annoyed him even more.

“Looks like everyone is invited but me.. bloody ‘ell.. I swear that woman winds me up on purpose..”

He sprinted into his home and made his way quickly into his bedroom, thankful that it was empty save for his dog and cat who were asleep on the bed as though everything was normal. Bambi sighed and shrugged off his clothes, slipping into bed and finally relaxing enough to open his mind to the messages and voices.

And that was when he found out what had happened and why there were so many people in the Lair. He lay still for a moment, a weird feeling of being asleep but still awake floating over him. He swallowed the hard lump that formed in his throat and stared at the ceiling with dead and emotionless eyes. He swallowed again, this time following the swallow with a sniff that proceeded the first hot pricking of tears behind his black eyes. He felt completely lost and useless and the guilt was overwhelming. Why didn’t he come home the night before.. if he’d just been home maybe things would be different? Choking back a sob, the boy rolled onto his side and pulled a pillow to his chest, curling around it. He closed his eyes and tried to home in on Tyger to see if the man needed.. well.. anything. Bambi opened his eyes and decided against it. What on Earth could to help the man now? He’d need somebody strong not a snivelling little boy who hadn’t even noticed that his Moms was gone.

“Shit..” Bambi muttered to himself, wiping at his tears fiercely with one hand. “She’s really gone… “

He stood then, moving to his bedroom door to lock it before crossing to his closet and opening the doors. Routing around amongst the tangle of belts and fallen items of clothing, the boy retrieved a single item that had belonged to Wynd and that he’d neglected to return. Her carried it to his bed and placed it under his pillow beside his two teddy bears and some crunchy used tissues. Bambi sat on the edge of bed and stared at the floor. He didn’t want to join in with the vocal tributes nor did he want to see anyone else, or be seen, mourning. He knew what his Moms would want as a tribute and he knew she would hate to see him upset and behaving this way. He sniffed loudly and gave a determined nod. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t here to see him, he’d make sure she and his Pops would always be proud of him and that he’d keep his Moms spirit and sense of fun alive in his heart no matter what he was doing.

He dressed then, pulling on last night’s jeans and t-shirt but not bothering with the boots. He knew he and Tyger weren’t exactly close anymore but he wanted to see his Pops. He opened the door and half stumbled down the stairs, vision blurred with moisture as he elbowed his way past people, not caring who he was shoving out of the way. Looking around, he couldn’t see Tyger but he could see Pulse and hear him say that people were scrolling the vigil. Anger overtook sorrow and Bambi wanted to rip apart anyone who had such disrespect as to scroll his Moms home. He followed Pulse but something caused him to freeze in his tracks. There was Tyger and all Bambi could do was stare at him. He was fairly sure his old sire hadn’t noticed him and he was glad because for once, the boy was utterly lost for words. He took a half step toward the man but changed his mind and turned on his heel to return to the silence of his bedroom.

How do you comfort a man who has just lost his reason to be? Bambi couldn’t answer that, didn’t know of anyone who could. It scared him to think that such a huge part of his unlife was gone in a blink of the sun. And that he couldn’t do anything to change that, couldn’t cheer anyone up with flirting or being a pervert this time.. it was just.. over. The boy perched on the corner of his bed, his hands clasped between his knees and lowered his head. There were a thousand ifs and butts whirring around in his mind along with one prevailing thought that was a selfish yet natural one and that the boy chose to vocalise in a quiet sigh.

“I want my Moms back.”

[Delphine]

Delphine looked down at the confusing message received on her phone, and didn't know what to make of it. In a hurry she phoned her sister Kat and asked, "what's going on?"
it was then that her knees went weak and she fell to the ground...
"What?" was the question asked out loud
"that's impossible.. Wynd cannot be gone, she takes L.O.A's, but she cannot be... gone.." was what was going through her mind.
then, sentiments flew into her being..
she knew this meant devastation to the family, destruction of her soul-mate.. she knew this would rock the city to its foundation.
it did.
she sobbed.

As quickly as she could she teleported to the Lair. She hadn't been there in forever.. she was thankful that they had made peace, Wynd and she...at least she had done one thing right...
As she arrived, the magnitude of the crowd made her tears flow again.

She went to her sire and held her in her arms for a long time, not knowing the right words to say...were there any? No. How could there be. This was just... wrong.

~On this night, a huge part of what is the 2d generation St.John has been taken from us. Condemn the fates and cry to Hell, How I wish I had a magic potion or voodoo ritual to reverse this awful destiny, Wyndcryer, We miss you..~