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By request from one of our members this month!

"Without music life would be a mistake."  ~Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

Choose a song that "fits" your character, their mood or situation that they find themselves in. Take that song apart and write a story based on the lyrics. Feel free to post the song, lyrics or video onto the ooc community so that we can feel what your character might be feeling. Ah, music, the expression of the soul. ;) Have fun guys and thank you for the suggestion.

-TN Mod



From the Diary of Brendan Keigwin: April 25, 2009,


I'm a priest for the poorest sacrifice
I'm but a raft in a sea of sorrow and greed
You bathed in my wine
Drank from my cup, mocked my rhyme
Your slit tongues licked my aching wounds

 

Woke up this morning. I know, sounds like something obvious, but I’d truly began to wonder if this condition were taking me over so much that even my sleep schedule would be effected. It has already insinuated itself in every aspect of my life. I tried to explore Hollywood today, but ended up back in my hotel room with a migraine. I refuse to drink a little of the blood that I was able to obtain. Call me stubborn if you wish. It’s not even really the fangs or the fact that I’d heal that gets me, although I am still more than a little irritated that I can’t use magic to heal something as simple as a migraine. No, it’s just that I’d enjoy it. That…that is…monstrous.

Put a stake through my heart!
And drag me into sunlight
So awake for your greed
As you're slaying the dreamer

 

I have always lived to learn more. I remember, even as a young child, sitting at my grandfather’s knee night and day, learning what he had to teach and practicing what I could. It has never been for any real practical use, this knowledge. I only wanted to know. Does that make sense? And yet now, I feel the darkness growing inside. I use my power for my own comfort more and more. And worse, I enjoy the feelings this growing vampiric nature inspires in me. This greed, this lust for life, not just killing, but all manner of experience. It is kin to my previous quest, but so much more, and part of me looks back at that child and laughs at the naïveté. The other part wants to die every time I must drink blood, not because of the blood itself, but because the greedy side grows stronger with each drop of blood on my lips. My quest for knowledge has grown so dark since that fateful night.

Swansong for the Wish of Night
God it hurts, give a name to the pain
Our primrose path to hell is growing weed

 

Night comes and it seems like part of me awakens. The night feels alive, and not just because the shadows dance around me. This is my time. The breeze seems to speak to me, promising more if I’d only give in, and that greedy darkness blazes brighter. At these times, it is almost impossible to see in me the child that at ten was so concerned about a runt kitten that he took it to his grandfather to learn to heal it. No, I cannot even heal myself now. The darkness is too great in me. To heal, I need to be alive, and the darkness is that of the death I cheated.

Blame me, it's me
Coward, a good-for-nothing scapegoat
Dumb kid, living a dream
Romantic only on paper

 

I suppose it was always a dream, really, the steadfast belief of youth that death will hold no dominion over this life. Did I know the risks if I failed? I thought I did at the time. But knowing the risks and living the failed result are two very different things that I have been made very aware of in these last three hundred years. If I could go back in time, I’d slap that kid with his nose in a book and tell him to get out and enjoy what he had. No…I didn’t mean that. Did I?

Tell me why you took all that was mine!
Stay as you lay - don't lead me astray!

 

Why me? They say power corrupts. Is this my penance for learning so much? The loss of my humanity? Learning to enjoy the darkness in myself, the lust, the greed?


Wake up, mow the weed
You'd be nothing without me
Take my life if you have the heart to die

 

No! If I hadn’t become this, I’d be dead. I’d be dead ten times over. What would I have done in that short lifetime? What would I have learned? No, I don’t have the heart to use spells I know will remove the vampire for good. I don’t have the heart to die. I must admit, if only to myself, had I the chance, I’d become this all over again.


You bastards tainted my tool
Raped my words, played me a fool
Gather your precious glitter and leave me be
The Great Ones are all dead
And I'm tired, too

I truly hate you all!

 

Still, should I ever find the miserable grave of the whoreson who mistranslated that ancient text, I will raise him as a zombie just so I can have the pleasure of setting him on fire and watching him writhe in pain over and over again, for as long as I wish it.

 

~Brendan Keigwin


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Brendan Keigwin

February 2010

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