“not good dreams, have not been good dreams for eons, and she comes to consciousness like a drowned victim struggling for air.” I feel ya, Hadassa. In my head I saw her actually gasping, taking real air in, and that's so revelatory. How that old human habit comes out when she’s not aware enough to monitor it and scared. And also coming to some form of consciousness after going Corpse Nap probably feels like Buffy crawling out of her grave to anyone.
“The house is silent or as silent as old houses can ever be; houses this old have a personality, a presence. They murmur and creak and whisper. The doors contain secrets, and the windows unlock memories.” I-I have too many quotes about houses and souls and being a haunted house in the shape of a person. I could make a whole Quote doc just for that type of thing. My point (I don’t have one) is that you’re playing my jam here. Houses haunted by age and other things, being a specter in your own hallways. …How cool would it be if that was a vampiric power one could specialize in? Hearing/learning the secrets of every property.
[Short Long commercial break]
“Outside, Linemell bustles and heaves, a booming crush of bodies and smells that dangerously beckon. Hadassa is too old to be fooled by the punch-drunk promise of hearts or the temptation of veins.” THE PUNCH-DRUNK PROMISE OF HEARTS! That fits for vampiric cravings and companionship cravings. Also I bet her manor(s?) has such a massive front garden that she’d be roasted before she got to THE PUNCH-DRUNK PROMISE OF HEARTS~~ Ahem! If you ever became a musician, I would demand that be a title of a song on the EP. Hell, write me a poem this instant!
“It is a privilege of her age, this ability to fight what comes most naturally to them” -looks at a partially written doc- Uh, I’m gonna need to do some renovating.
“Passing closed doors, she can feel her children in those rooms, still dead to the world, so like statues in their stillness, but for a moment her heart overflows from their proximity. She has not had such a full house ever before, and there is a contentment settling over the estate now.” Kostya thinks she sounds like a prison warden who knows they’re going to get a big fat bonus for all their beds being filled.
“She turns her head to the left, waiting, some keen animal instinct making her alert. There is not a noise around her, but still she knows. Curious rather than afraid, she follows her intuition” Speaking of statues.
“With his head in his hands, Orson looks like a human again.” смертний - Kostya
“the light, and there’s an odd rawness to his right hand, the skin there the smooth redness of a fresh burn.” Ooooh I dig it. Give me the self flagellation done with sunlight instead of a whip.
“Her voice startles him so much that he overturns his chair, and it clatters to the floor as he whirls to face her. His wolfish eyes are wild and dark, storming, and there’s blood in those eyes, blood on his cheeks. When he wipes his tears away, he leaves grit behind and stains his fingers more. “Haddie,” he says, his smile shaking and feeble, and for a moment she sees a shadow of fear dance across his face before he veils it.” All these vampires and their startling people into knocking into furniture. He’s just trying to sob in disgust at himself in privacy! I wonder when the last time he was afraid of her was, before all of this.
“Again, he shakes his head but then gives a miserable laugh. “I am unwell, I think.” “Unwell? Nonsense.”” It’s psychosomatic, as my mother told me all the time as a kid. Only here it applies. Gotta love Hadassa’s automatic scoffing at him too. Very comforting.
“her third progeny and in many ways her favorite after Nayeli” Kostya is actually a little insulted. He knew, and they have shit but still. Nayeli roamed off. Kostya stayed nearby and does a bunch of things for her. You think he wants to stay near LINEMELL of all places? Psh. The major difference is he doesn’t coddle her. Yeah, that’s right Hadassa, you’re coddled!
“he pours from the communal crystal decanter with a shaking hand. The blood he pours is old, fetid, the caretaker hasn’t yet replaced the previous night’s portion, but Orson drinks it anyway. He gags but upturns the glass, catching the last sluggish drops in his mouth.” Vampires are gross.
“You told me once that we are most like gods, do you remember?” There is a part of a Kostya dialogue where he calls her a tyrant.
““Do you think I have the arrogance to assume that I know any of this? I was not told our secrets. I know no more than what I know, which is that I am what I am.” “And what if you regret what you are?”” First, yes. Second, what are you. Third, niiice. I adore the idea that this is what makes Orson wonder if being turned into a vampire was actually a good thing. Were all those years and drinkings worth it?
“She pushes too far. When he can sense her inside of him and surrounding him, her blood calling to his, her will asserting itself, he pulls away. “No,” he snarls, feral suddenly. “Not that, Hadassa. Get out of my head!” For a moment, she wants to press him. She could do it. He is strong, but she is stronger, and he has inside of him, at the core of him, only that which she gave away from herself all those years ago;” Hadassa really needs to meet someone whose mind she can’t see into. Or who knows how to combat and hide whatever she’s looking for. (I’m picturing Mena’s head to be soothing creek noises and hymnal music that gets louder when you go snooping.)
“The affection is tepid, automatic, a desolate condolence for his behavior, and she untangles herself from him with a scowl of revulsion.” And that’s when our codependency stopped being productive, and so we’re here in therapy today….
“Watching him fade into the shadows of the house is like watching a ghost retreat to hell.” SPECTER, HOUSE!
no subject
“The house is silent or as silent as old houses can ever be; houses this old have a personality, a presence. They murmur and creak and whisper. The doors contain secrets, and the windows unlock memories.” I-I have too many quotes about houses and souls and being a haunted house in the shape of a person. I could make a whole Quote doc just for that type of thing. My point (I don’t have one) is that you’re playing my jam here. Houses haunted by age and other things, being a specter in your own hallways.
…How cool would it be if that was a vampiric power one could specialize in? Hearing/learning the secrets of every property.
[
ShortLong commercial break]“Outside, Linemell bustles and heaves, a booming crush of bodies and smells that dangerously beckon.
Hadassa is too old to be fooled by the punch-drunk promise of hearts or the temptation of veins.” THE PUNCH-DRUNK PROMISE OF HEARTS! That fits for vampiric cravings and companionship cravings. Also I bet her manor(s?) has such a massive front garden that she’d be roasted before she got to THE PUNCH-DRUNK PROMISE OF HEARTS~~ Ahem! If you ever became a musician, I would demand that be a title of a song on the EP.
Hell, write me a poem this instant!
“It is a privilege of her age, this ability to fight what comes most naturally to them” -looks at a partially written doc- Uh, I’m gonna need to do some renovating.
“Passing closed doors, she can feel her children in those rooms, still dead to the world, so like statues in their stillness, but for a moment her heart overflows from their proximity. She has not had such a full house ever before, and there is a contentment settling over the estate now.” Kostya thinks she sounds like a prison warden who knows they’re going to get a big fat bonus for all their beds being filled.
“She turns her head to the left, waiting, some keen animal instinct making her alert. There is not a noise around her, but still she knows. Curious rather than afraid, she follows her intuition” Speaking of statues.
“With his head in his hands, Orson looks like a human again.” смертний - Kostya
“the light, and there’s an odd rawness to his right hand, the skin there the smooth redness of a fresh burn.” Ooooh I dig it. Give me the self flagellation done with sunlight instead of a whip.
“Her voice startles him so much that he overturns his chair, and it clatters to the floor as he whirls to face her. His wolfish eyes are wild and dark, storming, and there’s blood in those eyes, blood on his cheeks. When he wipes his tears away, he leaves grit behind and stains his fingers more.
“Haddie,” he says, his smile shaking and feeble, and for a moment she sees a shadow of fear dance across his face before he veils it.” All these vampires and their startling people into knocking into furniture. He’s just trying to sob in disgust at himself in privacy!
I wonder when the last time he was afraid of her was, before all of this.
“Again, he shakes his head but then gives a miserable laugh. “I am unwell, I think.”
“Unwell? Nonsense.”” It’s psychosomatic, as my mother told me all the time as a kid. Only here it applies. Gotta love Hadassa’s automatic scoffing at him too. Very comforting.
“her third progeny and in many ways her favorite after Nayeli” Kostya is actually a little insulted. He knew, and they have shit but still. Nayeli roamed off. Kostya stayed nearby and does a bunch of things for her. You think he wants to stay near LINEMELL of all places? Psh. The major difference is he doesn’t coddle her. Yeah, that’s right Hadassa, you’re coddled!
“he pours from the communal crystal decanter with a shaking hand. The blood he pours is old, fetid, the caretaker hasn’t yet replaced the previous night’s portion, but Orson drinks it anyway. He gags but upturns the glass, catching the last sluggish drops in his mouth.” Vampires are gross.
“You told me once that we are most like gods, do you remember?” There is a part of a Kostya dialogue where he calls her a tyrant.
““Do you think I have the arrogance to assume that I know any of this? I was not told our secrets. I know no more than what I know, which is that I am what I am.”
“And what if you regret what you are?”” First, yes. Second, what are you. Third, niiice. I adore the idea that this is what makes Orson wonder if being turned into a vampire was actually a good thing. Were all those years and drinkings worth it?
“She pushes too far. When he can sense her inside of him and surrounding him, her blood calling to his, her will asserting itself, he pulls away. “No,” he snarls, feral suddenly. “Not that, Hadassa. Get out of my head!”
For a moment, she wants to press him. She could do it. He is strong, but she is stronger, and he has inside of him, at the core of him, only that which she gave away from herself all those years ago;” Hadassa really needs to meet someone whose mind she can’t see into. Or who knows how to combat and hide whatever she’s looking for. (I’m picturing Mena’s head to be soothing creek noises and hymnal music that gets louder when you go snooping.)
“The affection is tepid, automatic, a desolate condolence for his behavior, and she untangles herself from him with a scowl of revulsion.” And that’s when our codependency stopped being productive, and so we’re here in therapy today….
“Watching him fade into the shadows of the house is like watching a ghost retreat to hell.” SPECTER, HOUSE!