Monthly Archives: February 2007
Of course I do.
What person with a drop of Scottish blood in their veins wouldn’t? I know enough of the Seven Realms of Existence to know that what most people term as ‘ghosts’ are in fact a reality. The Soul is imperishable, and even those who pass on, are never truly gone. That is why when you go somewhere and can sense the energy, get a residual feel for events that took place there. The problem is, most people cannot explain that feeling they get. They write it off to a trick of the mind. They think that it is something that is just a silly figment of their imagination. The dead simply move to a different address with a different means of communication. It’s just that so few know how or even bother to try to reach them. The maintenance of a good relationship with the dead is pivotal. How can you honour yourself if you do not honour those whom have gone before you; those upon whose bones you build your own life?
But then there are the other kinds of ghosts. Whether or not those particular spectres are manifestations of the dead, or apparitions of guilt, or of remembrance is all relative, really. I’ve been haunted by the ghosts of those whose lives I’ve taken, and others whom I have betrayed, and still others whom I’ve loved and lost along the way. They don’t keep me up at night, they just remind me that they are still there, if no other place but in my own memory. For where else could they reside with such clarity? And how could I forget the lessons that each taught me?
Oh, yes. I most definitely believe in ghosts.
Muse: Fanny Fae / Faelyn
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 277
Ask my mun anything you want about me, and she will answer to the best of her ability. It can be about my own canon, RP, personality, background, why I am the way I am, and pretty much anything else you want to know. The only catch is you have a limit of three questions.
Of course this knowledge is completely meta, and therefore cannot be used in game.
It had been the night blooming jasmine and the way that it glowed in the moonlight that caught my eye. Most nights, if I had been on such a mission, I would have not stopped, not listened to the undeniable beckoning of the garden and it’s inhabitants. But this night was different. The moon was full and spring was first spilling out from the freshly thawed soil. At any other time I would often interact with those whom I called my garden or forest “allies”, and one more the delicate flowers seemed to reach out to me with a scent so sweet that I could not resist.
With slender fingers I reached out and caressed the leaves, petals and stalk of the ful shrub and I leaned forward to breathe the heady scent of flowers. The hood of my black velvet cloak fell back from my head as I did so.
“It was in the East when I first met you, O’ beauteous one,” I smiled at the prolifically blooming bush, speaking to it as if it were another person, “men have waged wars and spilled much blood on the desert sands just so they can catch a heady breath of you. They bring your scent and lay it at the feet of queens, princesses and women of all castes. Your promise is nothing more than the inspiration of love.” I looked up at the moon and smiled, “under Mother Moon’s gaze, there is no way for you not to accomplish that.”
The garden, I had noticed, had gone strangely silent. I was raised to sense the presence of others and now I felt the gaze of some one or some thing looking at me, listening. The sensation was one of cold, yet curious icy tendrils that reached out like a vine in the shadows that shifted. I pulled the folds of my cloak a bit tighter around me, and replaced the voluminous hood back over my hair and made my way back to the paved walkway toward the palace that was illuminated in a riot of light and colour.
Before I mounted the large marble staircase that led to the entrance of the palace itself, I caught glimpse of a darkly clad man leaning over, looking down at me, as if he had specifically been waiting for me to come inside If it had not been for the glint of his single eye in the reflective light indoors or from the moon I was not certain that I would have seen him at all. Not able to shake the same feeling that I had experienced in the garden as I ducked into the doorway. I was both invited and expected as a guest of the Court of Louis XIII and his Queen, Anne and to have tarried longer would have aroused suspicion. Still, I could not shake the image of the man who was dark as Raven whose one eye studied me relentlessly.
Muse: Fanny Fae / Faelyn
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology / Fandom
Word Count: 496
I wait for perfect timing.
It does not mean that I am hesitant, or cowardly. I mean to master the art of timing, and in order to do that, you must learn the value of waiting. This involves the control of not only your own emotions but of those around you. I refuse to let those around me push me into rash decisions. Why would I let someone else set the pace? Those who rush, those who do not wait, those who do not pause long enough to carefully pay attention to the nuances of any situation often run headlong into disaster. Let others run headlong into the danger and those with cooler heads and a greater penchant toward strategy will find the precise moment from which they may harvest the greatest benefit.
I do not wait for reasons of self preservation, or out of anything other than playing the game of Power in order to win it. I will not be goaded, prodded, baited or cajoled one moment before I am ready to make my move. By doing this, I maintain control. I have taken years, decades, even centuries to build the foundations of Power as I see fit. Those who do not bother to deliberate judiciously will often mistake a flight of fancy or a passing trend for what lies beneath it all. Why not step back, observe and pay attention to what is really happening? But you cannot do that if you are continually in a hurry and have no sense of timing.
On the other hand, when you can make those around you believe that they control things, that is when you hold the greatest amount of control of all. I do not mind watching them hurry and scurry about. When you can convince the other side that they must hurry, that time is of the essence – especially when you have all the time in the world, that is a great secret to winning the game. When you set the pace, control the clock, and can force your opponent’s timing, you gain the upper hand. It is that application of pressure that can make them snap – especially when you are the one setting the deadline. I will wait as long as necessary for the precise and most advantageous moment. I make them yield to my pace and when the time comes to strike, I do so decisively and without mercy.
Muse: Fanny Fae/ Faelyn
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 403
“It is a stroke of god fortune to find one who is worth seducing……Most people rush ahead, become engaged or do other stupid things, and in a turn of the hand everything is over, and they know neither what they have won or what they have lost.” – Soren Kierkegaard
There have been many opportunities in my life that I have had and squandered, just as there have been ones that I should have walked by with nary a second thought. Everyone in their life can say that they have done things that they would have been better off not having done. Few can truly say that they have no regrets. Regrets are for the weak. Learning, adapting and overcoming those challenges and opportunities is where real Power lies.
Having had my share of lovers and consorts, there was but one that I had dared to take to husband. When we met it was as if lightning had struck. There was an inexplicable pull between us that could not be denied. I could never, nor would I ever deny that I loved the man, for I did. For all of the things that were so very right between us, we had our share of challenges. I never once, in that time wondered if it was something that I regretted, for it never was.
I cannot help what I am. I cannot help that I am effectively Immortal, or at least more unimaginably old than most humans are. I do not apologize that I am sovereign in my own right and that I make choices that sometimes might seem cold. That is the price that you pay. It is not realistic for anyone, no matter who they are to me, to expect that in a life of nearly a half a millennia, that there would have been no lovers in my past. Nor is it realistic to expect that none would have meant so very much as to come close to where the one whom you have chosen as a spouse had once stood. There were others, and one of them, I confess, who was once an enemy, later became the love of my life that I lost far before his time. And yet, my husband was so very jealous of those things that had happened, many of them centuries before he was even born. It was not as if I ever deceived him on that count. How could I, really? In short, he was a very depressed, and according to some, a very tragic man. I don’t think I would go so far as to say he was tragic. He was stronger than most knew, perhaps even than he himself even knew. But deep within the depths of me, I knew that I could not save him. Nor in the end, could I save what we once had. When I asked for a separation to go home to the Fortunate Island in order to collect my thoughts, I was rewarded with a very quick divorce, the return of his wedding band, and his shutting our children and I completely out of his life. As I said, I do not regret, nor do I curse him or the memory of that past.
Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20. But I would add to that statement that none but a fool would make the same mistake twice.
Muse: Fanny Fae / Faelyn
Fandom Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 532 (Not counting the quote)