Alana Stormcloud
Jun 2nd, 2003, 12:27:47 AM
Bittersweet Memories.... (closed) I found myself sitting here at my writing desk alone, filled with memories. They haunt me, my memories, they are mine to forget and yet I cannot. It's as if I belong to them instead of them to me. So I thought I would write them and perhaps exorcise them from my mind as if they were demons such as I.
Yes I can admit I'm a demon. In fact I'm Vampyre, but wait I get ahead of myself. My demons do not start with me becoming a child of the darkside.
My first memory is the one that haunts me the most. The untimely death of my mother. Even now I found myself pausing before I wrote those word's. They still cause me sorrow. I was a child of four years when my mother died, and to this day I can still smell the scent of her and it burns the back of my throat like unshed tears do. She was the beginning and the end of each moment for me. If I close my eyes and can see her laughing as she chased me through the garden, catching me only when she knew my little legs could run no more.
Then came a day when I came in from play, in search of my beloved mother and she was not there. In her place was my uncle telling me my mother was gone. He was so huge this bearer of my pain, the maker of who I would become.
My mother and I had lived with my uncle Mockadane my whole life. I had never known my father and to this day I still don't. He stood there my uncle with tears shining in his eyes and told me she was gone and for that one moment I hated him, just as much as I loved him. I remember fleeing from him. I remember him calling to me, begging me to come back but I couldn't, I could not face what he had to say.
I ran to my mothers room in a vain search for her. I threw open the door to her bedchamber calling for her, hoping that she was just playing the hiding game we had played before. I called but she never answered. That is where my uncle finally found me curled up on her bed her dress pulled close to my face so I could smell her scent and pretend it was her arms that held me.
"Alana she is gone and if I could give her back to you. If it were in my power I would." My uncle whispered brokenly to me. It was in that moment that he became my father, he became my world. We never spoke of my mother very often after that. The pain it caused us both was to much to bear.
The years passed and at the age of ten I had already acquired my nickname "rogue angel" from my uncle Mocky. I was wild to say the least, raised by a man who knew nothing of girls. He raised me as he would a boy and this suited me fine. It was in that year, when I was ten, that he began my training. He was unmerciful and I was to tenacious to not try.
I know now the reason he trained me so hard and why he allowed no room for error but at the time I didn't. He feared for me. He feared losing me the way he lost my mother.
When I reached the age of seventeen I could no longer take being hemmed in. I wanted freedom and I wanted it at any price. We had many bitter fights and every cruel word we spewed at each other caused us pain and damaged our loving relationship. I knew it was time for me to go out on my own or be forever locked behind the prison walls my uncle had so lovingly created to protect me. I left in the night, I took with me only what I needed to survive. I left nothing behind to give away what I was doing. It hurt me to leave but it was killing me to stay.
It was hard at first but I had my knowledge of sword play and fighting techniques to keep me alive. I had been taught by the best but he had never taught me about the world and its harshness. I became a bounty hunter and I was good at what I did. Certainly not the best but damn good.
Three years passed before I met my lover Tiberious. I had been sent to kill someone and I mistakenly thought it was Tiberious. After we had locked swords for well over an hour when I found out that he was the wrong person. We became friends after that as strange as it may seem. Not long after we became lovers.
Edited by: Alana Stormcloud at: 12/7/01 9:30:13 am
Alana Stormcloud
Sith Vampy
Keeper of the Dragon
And wipe your feet too!
Posts: 76
(4/1/02 11:51:26 pm)
198.81.17.152
Reply | Edit | Del
Re: Bittersweet Memories.... (closed) It had been some time since Alana ha been back to her rooms at the Eye. She ran her fingers over the velvet folds of the bed sheets a small smile played over her lips. So many memories. The room still smelled of the sweet flowers that Tiberious knew she favored. The room was kept immaculate by the servants it had been left exactly as she had left it.
She wandered over to her writing desk that even Tiberious himself thought strange. He would always ask her why she did not record her thoughts on a data pad as everyone else did. Her finger ran over the soft quill, she rustled the paper she had been writing on when she had left. She loved the old way of writing it was so much more relaxing. Sitting down in the plush chair she scanned what she had written. Her fingers automatically moving to the quill and picking it up. Her thoughts flew back to each moment as she read. So much had happened since she had last written on the pages before her.
Tiberious was no longer her lover though as always they remained close, her new lover Dalamar had been turned by her. They now lived in the Shrine with the Mother and she ha found some measure of peace. She still missed the Master who had given her the dark gift. It had been a long time since there paths had crossed. She was A member of the TSE and apprenticed to Master Lynch. Her uncle Mockadane still had not come to terms with each other. So many things. Alana sighed softly she wondered what new things would unfold as the time passed. Laying her quill on he sheet she had just filled she grinned. She knew wen she came back it would be right where she had left it. She left the rooms and went in search of Tiberious....
Yes I can admit I'm a demon. In fact I'm Vampyre, but wait I get ahead of myself. My demons do not start with me becoming a child of the darkside.
My first memory is the one that haunts me the most. The untimely death of my mother. Even now I found myself pausing before I wrote those word's. They still cause me sorrow. I was a child of four years when my mother died, and to this day I can still smell the scent of her and it burns the back of my throat like unshed tears do. She was the beginning and the end of each moment for me. If I close my eyes and can see her laughing as she chased me through the garden, catching me only when she knew my little legs could run no more.
Then came a day when I came in from play, in search of my beloved mother and she was not there. In her place was my uncle telling me my mother was gone. He was so huge this bearer of my pain, the maker of who I would become.
My mother and I had lived with my uncle Mockadane my whole life. I had never known my father and to this day I still don't. He stood there my uncle with tears shining in his eyes and told me she was gone and for that one moment I hated him, just as much as I loved him. I remember fleeing from him. I remember him calling to me, begging me to come back but I couldn't, I could not face what he had to say.
I ran to my mothers room in a vain search for her. I threw open the door to her bedchamber calling for her, hoping that she was just playing the hiding game we had played before. I called but she never answered. That is where my uncle finally found me curled up on her bed her dress pulled close to my face so I could smell her scent and pretend it was her arms that held me.
"Alana she is gone and if I could give her back to you. If it were in my power I would." My uncle whispered brokenly to me. It was in that moment that he became my father, he became my world. We never spoke of my mother very often after that. The pain it caused us both was to much to bear.
The years passed and at the age of ten I had already acquired my nickname "rogue angel" from my uncle Mocky. I was wild to say the least, raised by a man who knew nothing of girls. He raised me as he would a boy and this suited me fine. It was in that year, when I was ten, that he began my training. He was unmerciful and I was to tenacious to not try.
I know now the reason he trained me so hard and why he allowed no room for error but at the time I didn't. He feared for me. He feared losing me the way he lost my mother.
When I reached the age of seventeen I could no longer take being hemmed in. I wanted freedom and I wanted it at any price. We had many bitter fights and every cruel word we spewed at each other caused us pain and damaged our loving relationship. I knew it was time for me to go out on my own or be forever locked behind the prison walls my uncle had so lovingly created to protect me. I left in the night, I took with me only what I needed to survive. I left nothing behind to give away what I was doing. It hurt me to leave but it was killing me to stay.
It was hard at first but I had my knowledge of sword play and fighting techniques to keep me alive. I had been taught by the best but he had never taught me about the world and its harshness. I became a bounty hunter and I was good at what I did. Certainly not the best but damn good.
Three years passed before I met my lover Tiberious. I had been sent to kill someone and I mistakenly thought it was Tiberious. After we had locked swords for well over an hour when I found out that he was the wrong person. We became friends after that as strange as it may seem. Not long after we became lovers.
Edited by: Alana Stormcloud at: 12/7/01 9:30:13 am
Alana Stormcloud
Sith Vampy
Keeper of the Dragon
And wipe your feet too!
Posts: 76
(4/1/02 11:51:26 pm)
198.81.17.152
Reply | Edit | Del
Re: Bittersweet Memories.... (closed) It had been some time since Alana ha been back to her rooms at the Eye. She ran her fingers over the velvet folds of the bed sheets a small smile played over her lips. So many memories. The room still smelled of the sweet flowers that Tiberious knew she favored. The room was kept immaculate by the servants it had been left exactly as she had left it.
She wandered over to her writing desk that even Tiberious himself thought strange. He would always ask her why she did not record her thoughts on a data pad as everyone else did. Her finger ran over the soft quill, she rustled the paper she had been writing on when she had left. She loved the old way of writing it was so much more relaxing. Sitting down in the plush chair she scanned what she had written. Her fingers automatically moving to the quill and picking it up. Her thoughts flew back to each moment as she read. So much had happened since she had last written on the pages before her.
Tiberious was no longer her lover though as always they remained close, her new lover Dalamar had been turned by her. They now lived in the Shrine with the Mother and she ha found some measure of peace. She still missed the Master who had given her the dark gift. It had been a long time since there paths had crossed. She was A member of the TSE and apprenticed to Master Lynch. Her uncle Mockadane still had not come to terms with each other. So many things. Alana sighed softly she wondered what new things would unfold as the time passed. Laying her quill on he sheet she had just filled she grinned. She knew wen she came back it would be right where she had left it. She left the rooms and went in search of Tiberious....