somebody get me through this nightmare [ali/inora]

[lullaby.of.lies]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] It was her own greatest desire to know the secrets the world held captive in it's darkest recesses; but now that she was aware, she realized that the very secrets she had so desired to unmask were ultimately veiled for a reason. As with everything in human nature, we always desire that which we cannot obtain. We set something, or someone, on a pedestal and thrive to be worthy of said objects attention, only to find our worship was unjust in the fact that it was entirely fictional. Humanity, in all it's forms, sets standards for things, bending and twisting said things' image until it is to be conceived "perfect". Said thing is supposedly unobtainable, but every once in awhile a shift happens and that thing, that object of desire, is removed from it's pedestal to be closer admired by it's "worshipers", per say. After years of admiration, a preconceived notion is derived; having no real knowledge of said thing other than what is observed we tend to fabricate the remainder to fill in the holes. So, said thing is no longer inconceivably unobtainable and is now within grasp, obtainable; we are able to examine without distance or skew. Sure, said thing is everything you observed it to be on the surface; but as soon as said thing begins to reveal it's true self, the un-conceived version, you find that you're no longer enamored because said thing is not what you thought it was. In reality, you desired something that appeared as said thing appeared, but had a personality constructed of your own desires, not fact. The world crashes down, and once more you find yourself longing for the perfection that is no longer within conceivable range. Blaise was perched beneath a tree, legs folded beneath her, black ball point pen in hand. Only days ago she herself had run into her object of desire, the thing she had longed to be reality her whole eighteen years of existence, and it was all a bunch of bull shit! The thing she had imagined to be the epitome of love and commitment turned out to be a hateful creature by the name of Rose, and in one single night she had destroyed the only kind of fantasy, fairy tale, that kept Blaise willing to keep going each day. Go to any book store, library, anywhere that cared to contain literature, and you would find stories of vampires and werewolves. Blaise had been drawn to these "fantastical" creatures ever since the first time she picked up a book; she was drawn beyond rational explanation. When most girls wanted fairytales and happily ever afters, Blaise wanted nothing more than the be the object of a vampires desire. True, unrequited love that surpassed all human standards; caring so entirely for someone that you were willing to kill them and bring them back to life to share eternity with you. That, to her, beat gay old prince charming in his leotards any day. Rose shattered her dreams; plain and simple. Blaise was forever doomed to stereotype all vampires, no matter what her stories claimed them, to be spiteful, bloodthirsty, evil beings with no humanity or compassion whatsoever, until proven otherwise. For the last few days Blaise had been wandering in a trance, speaking to as few people as possible; she was shutting herself out of the world because it no longer possessed any draw for her. She functioned on auto pilot, doing the things she knew were necessary to survival; sleep, shower, eat and nothing more. Perhaps some would call it pitiful, but if they truly understood the depths of her emotion they quite possibly would have felt the same. Blaise was never normal, never anywhere even in the perceivable semblance of normal. She saw humor in undesirable circumstances, she was terribly clumsy unless she was entirely focused on not being so (which was only during her ballet practice), she had irrational fears that most considered childish, she didn't socialize half as much as other girls her age (who, she perceived to be immature and annoying),... given the opportunity she was sure she could list hundreds of things most everyone else considered weird, and she considered to be crucial parts of her being. Some days she desired to be given the opportunity to go back and change things; if her mother had never died, she might have grown into a more socially acceptable person. Other days she loved being the person she was; because who else could say they liked ketchup on their french toast? Who else could quote Anne Rice without a seconds hesitation? Who else could say their best friend kept every single iota of their secrets, and was a dog to boot? What other eighteen year old girl could say she'd never been kissed and truthfully mean it? Not very many, that's who. Having lost track of time while within her own mind, she now realized it was very nearly dusk. Had her father been home, he would have thrown an irrational fit if Blaise hadn't returned by now. Seeing though as that was not the case, she settled back against the tree she had herself propped against, scooting around a little until she was in a more comfortable position. She set her papers down on her left as she reached around the side of the tree and grabbed her backpack, which sported a fashionable picture of Jack Skellington along with many buttons from her favorite bands. Come on, I know I put you in there before I left, and you very well couldn't have grown legs and ran away... oh, there you are! She retracted her hands from the bag, producing two large candles and a box of matches. She swiftly struck the match over the rough board that resides on the side of all match boxes and, taking care not to let the tiny flam go out before it reached it's destination, lit the candles. The match went out with a poof of smoke; Blaise inhaled deeply, another of her oddities was loving the smell of matches. Again, she produced her notebook from beside her. Placing the candles precisely on either sides of the paper, close enough to allow light but not so close as to burn her, she settled on her stomach and continued to write. What exactly she was writing remained for her eyes alone; never to be called a diary (for that was what silly little girls possessed), her "musings" remained the only place she could truly express herself without being so crudely judged. Sometimes she mused about life, other times she wrote the lyrics to the soundtrack of her life; and, on the odd occasion, she would just doodle... random little figures that pleased her to draw when she had nothing more to do with her time. On this night, alone in the park, she was more or less rambling about vampires and the like; when one does not possess anyone to talk to, writing is better than keeping everything bottled within. Perhaps it was foolish to be alone in the dark when you had just encountered a vengeful vampire and no one knew where you were. The thought had occurred to Blaise, though she has swatted it away like she would an annoying insect, she figured if she was going to tempt fate she mind as well jump in headfirst without restriction; for subconsciously that was exactly what she was doing, tempting fate, daring them to come forward. The count comes to 1282 (with code). Blaise's conversation has been tagged to Ali or Inora or both =P . She is flaunting this! right now. Her puppeteer would also like you to know . Er.. um... no notes =].

[Inora Theos]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000806] Why was she here? Seriously, why Colorado? Who the hell really needed armored cars in Colorado? She couldn't think of anyone but apparently someone did. While going through the books at Blackwell she'd come across the name of a client who had ordered a very specific car type. He'd ordered it three years ago and it had been back ordered. No one had ever gotten around to filling his order, so Inora had come to Colorado to personally deliver the car to the man. She was the head of the company, a mistake had been made, she needed to apologize for it. She'd also needed to yell at the necessary departments for failing and get them to go through the books with a fine-toothed comb. Six other mistakes had been found already and Inora was planning on going to each of them. But for now, she was trapped in Colorado cause her flight had been canceled and the next available flight was in three days. The town that she'd been trapped in didn't have a lot of options as far as entertainment, so Inora found herself walking around in the dark late at night, unable to sleep. After a small amount of time, Inora found herself standing in front of a large tree. Her werewolf enhanced senses picked out a young girl sitting under the tree. She had beautiful blond hair, kinda like Inora's own. She was a beautiful girl and Inora smiled looking at her. It was strange to find someone else alone out here at this time, especially someone as young as this girl. Not that she was younger than Inora, she looked to be about the same age. The girl seemed to be writing something. There was nothing else to do so Inora, being who she was, decided to go and talk to the girl. Inora looked at the girl. "Hello there. Is this seat taken?" She lowered herself down beside the girl and looked out at the view from where the girl was sitting. She didn't look at what the girl was writing because Inora respected people and she respected people's privacy. She didn't know this girl, this girl didn't know her. So whatever she was writing would remain in her head and on the paper, unless she chose to share it with this stranger that had just walked into her life. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Count It: 408 Dedicate It: Lullaby Comment It: Short

[lullaby.of.lies]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] Again, Blaise became engulfed in her reverie, loosing a few more hours of her life she would never be able to regain. She imagined everyone else who resided in town would have retired for the night already, and she was the only one, the only human that is, who was crazy enough to remain outside at the present hour. Her logic on the whole situation was "while the cat's away, the mouse will play", in this case she was the proverbial mouse and her father the elusive cat. For one solid week she was free of her gilded cage, and Blaise now vowed to herself to do everything she'd ever desired to do at one point in her life. Hell could have frozen over and she probably wouldn't have noticed at that point in time, she hadn't expected anyone to seek her our really, though she had hoped, so she was neither aware nor attuned to her surroundings; hence, when she heard a soft voice behind her and someone take a seat at her side she nearly jumped out of her skin. Smooth Blaise, real smooth, it's probably no one special... "Hello there. Is this seat taken?" Quickly Blaise gathered her papers together, blowing out one candle and nearly toppling the other one over into the mulch beneath it, which would have gone over real well. She reseated herself upright, brushing off the stray debris that ardently clung to the front of her shirt. Hi, um, no it's okay... I mean, it's not taken. She dared turn her head to look at the girl, smiling when she affirmed to herself that this girl didn't appear to be anything supernatural, or at least not as apparently so as Rose had appeared. This girl looked somewhat normal with her bright blonde hair and cheerful demeanor. On first glance she didn't look to be too much older than Blaise, most likely around the same age; though after the other night for all she knew this girl could have been hundreds of years old and still only looked in her teens. Subconsciously her mind told her to be on guard, for what kind of crazy (besides herself of course) was lurking around in the middle of the night? I'm Blaise. Blaise offered her hand and a genuine smile to the girl. Unlike with Rose, she was not silencing her better judgement, this girl genuinely appeared nice. Again, perhaps foolishly, Blaise let her guard down a little, which was becoming somewhat of a reoccurring event these past few days; at the first sign of anything going amiss she was sure it would easily be reestablished. The count comes to 467 (with code). Blaise's conversation has been tagged to Inora . She is flaunting this! right now. Her puppeteer would also like you to know ... It's okay =] I don't mind short, it's not so intimidating haha.

[Inora Theos]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] Inora couldn't help but giggle as she watched the poor girl nearly start a fire with her candles. It was nice to see someone else being clumsy for once, usually it was Inora that was almost burning down a town. She felt bad though, she hadn't meant to startle her, she'd only wanted someone to talk to. Inora also didn't fail to notice the way the girl made sure what she was writing couldn't be visable to Inora's eyes, she smiled sadly at the fact that everyone in the world had to think that everyone else in the world wouldn't respect them. The girl told Inora that the seat wasn't taken and Inora smiled gently in response, waiting for the girl to become comfortable with her presence. She seemed to adjust quickly and with a somewhat cursory glance over Inora the girl seemed satisfied that Inora was no threat. Good thing tonight wasn't a full moon, else the girl would learn that while human Inora may be no threat, may be the least threatening thing on two feet...wolf Inora could be the most threatening thing on four feet. Like all werewolves, Inora lost track of who she was in the wake of her wolf taking over. Full moons were scary, unhappy times for Inora, the days immediately following filled with worried scouring of the newspapers for stories about people being mauled to death by wolves. She'd managed to make through her first year as a werewolf without turning anyone or hurting anyone. She fully intended to keep that record going and had no wish or plan to break it here with this girl. Who's name was apparently Blaise. Inora smiled and reached out to take the girl's hand in her own. Her blood ran a little hotter than most humans and she could feel a slight chill coming from Blaise's skin. "Blaise? That's a very interesting name, I like it. My name's Inora, another strange one, you can call me Nora if you wish, most of my friends do." She smiled brightly and let go of Blaise's hand. "You were very intent on what you were writing. Might I ask what it was?" She would have no problem with Blaise saying no, she wouldn't press the issue, she herself hated it when people tried to read her lyrics before she was finished writing them. Blaise hadn't only seemed intent, she'd seemed upset, almost angry. From where Nora had observed her for a silent moment, the girl had seemed like someone with a plan, an important plan that they would follow through even if it killed them, an important plan that might. Inora wondered what that plan consisted of and why it might be dangerous. She looked upward at the crescent moon above their heads and remembered the full moon that had come about a week before, anything involving the supernatural would be dangerous. But this girl couldn't possibly know about Inora's world. Blaise looked like she'd been caged in a long time, how delighted she was to be out showed through her expression like a beacon. "You look like a woman with a plan." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Count It: 541 Dedicate It: Lullaby

[lullaby.of.lies]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] Having lost any previous apprehension she once more smiled in the girl's direction, Thank you, my mother chose it especially for that reason; because would else would call their daughter such? Blaise laughed a little, though she was internally sore at the thought of her mother, whom she had lost 15 years prior under horrible circumstances. Once more she regained composure, Inora is a beautiful name; it's nice to meet you. Blaise's head inclined towards the sky before once more meeting Nora's gaze; she supposed she was on some sort of a mission, though she didn't say as such ... so what if this girl knew what she was writing, so what if she thought Blaise crazy for it, this could very well be their first and last encounter, so in reply it wouldn't matter. Let her judge me, come what may of it I honestly don't care, I'm going to be selfish for once; someone needs to help me bear this burden before I buckle under it. She swiftly gathered her few written on pages and gingerly handed them to Nora, she held them for a second more than necessary, with a slight hesitation, before finally releasing them into this strangers hands. The pages she had just surrendered contained her obscure ramblings on "the said object" along with everything she could remember about her first and last encounter with the vampire, Rose. Her conscience got the better of her only after it was too late, and in a last ditch effort to save front she quickly interjected, It's all stories, of course... She watched Nora's face as she read through the pages, hoping to catch any glimpse of an inkling that might intone what she was thinking, feeling, anything. Unfortunately Blaise was horrible at reading people, so her efforts were to no avail; she would have to wait out the duration until Nora finally had finally come to her own conclusion. Within her heart of hearts Blaise hoped that Nora was already aware of her musings, aware of the reality of all these things that once seemed only products of anothers imagination. She desperately needed someone to talk to about everything that had recently been occurring, and she already knew if she told her father he would send her to yet another psychologist if she ever dared confide in him, as if they really know how to fix all life's problems anyway, bunch of frauds! Blaise's father always tried to fix everything that went amiss with her with a doctor or a shrink; more meds, more sessions,... mind as well become his mantra for as much as he imposed it. Secretly Blaise had always wondered if he did such because he couldn't handle her himself, for the simple fact that he didn't really know how. Walter James Holloway had never been around during Blaise's crucial years, he was always working, delving himself deeper into it as if avoiding the goings on around him; then one day he was thrust into reality, only to find that he no longer knew how to handle it perhaps? Blaise would never truly know, because she never dared to ask about anything pertaining to her mother in any way, shape, or form, unless it was absolutely unavoidable. Slowly drifting back to the present Blaise realized Nora was very near done the reading the last of what she'd written, a minute sense of fear began to radiate from her core... Nora was going to think one of three things; 1) Blaise should be locked up in a white padded room. 2) Blaise had quite the imagination for telling stories. or, 3) Nora already knew everything and was going to be able to empathize with Blaise; though Blaise knew this was the least plausible of the three by far. Ha! I'm so screwed... The count comes to 682 (with code). Blaise's conversation has been tagged to Nora . She is flaunting this! right now. Her puppeteer would also like you to know "the said object" is what was written in the first 3 paragraphs of the first post =P.

[Inora Theos]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000806] Inora returned Blaise’s smile. Her own mother had chosen her name for a similar reason. It was original enough that no one else in the world would have it, or at least, no one that Inora would ever meet. Yet the name was based in a name that was very familiar and well known, so no one would have trouble pronouncing it. It was amazing how much the two of them had in common without even knowing it. Inora’s mother had died when she was fifteen years old, after being mauled by Inora’s werewolf father. Times had been hard since then and Inora still missed her mom every day, surely it could have been a bonding moment, but Inora didn’t know about Blaise’s mother and didn’t really want to toss her own circumstances out there. Blaise surprised Inora immensely by simply handing the papers over, Inora didn’t bother to relight the candles she just started to read. What she found contained on those pages amazed her. Not only had Blaise been exposed to Inora’s world, but she had been exposed in a rather rude way by one of Inora’s closest friends. How could Rose have treated someone this way? Inora was simply shocked about all these things combined. Her mind was racing, a mortal had been exposed to their world, it happened all the time but it had never really happened to Inora. Especially not with someone she’d just met. As a werewolf, Inora had met her fair share of vampires, she knew that most of them treated mortals the way that Rose had treated Blaise. Mortals were nothing more than fast food to vampires and Inora was saddened to find her friend’s view seemed to reflect the same. However, Inora couldn’t rightfully say that all vampires felt that way, just like she couldn’t rightfully allow herself to say that werewolves didn’t do exactly the same thing. She’d met wolves that felt that they were the top of the world chain and the mortals were even lower on that chain than vampires. Inora finished reading, she’d barely even registered Blaise’s protest about it all being stories. She clearly didn’t know what Inora was, and she also was clearly trying to save face and make sure she didn’t look crazy. But Inora knew better, these were not just stories these were facts, and they were the facts of Inora’s existence. She’d finished reading but she pretended that she hadn’t so she could have some time to herself to prepare for the coming conversation. She felt pretty sure that admitting that she knew Rose was not a smart idea, the tone of Blaise’s writing had shown her feelings about Rose pretty clearly. But admitting that she was a werewolf would probably make Blaise feel a little less crazy. Nora took a deep breath and looked up at Blaise, she handed the papers over and opened her mouth. Then closed it again. “I…I uh…” She sighed. She had no idea to go about this. “This, Rose, she told you that vampires and werewolves really exist right?” Her voice held no skeptism, just a simple question. She could see the fear in Blaise’s face that Inora would look at her like she was crazy, but Inora felt fear too, fear of how Blaise would look at her when Inora told her the truth. “Well, I uh…I know about that. They do exist, I’ve known for about three years now. I met a boy, he was really nice and really sweet, but I could always tell that he was hiding something from me.” She closed her eyes, it was hard remembering this, remembering Logan. “One night, on a full moon, I went to visit him. I’m sure you’ve guessed by now that he was a werewolf. To make a long story short, I only found out that he was a werewolf after he changed right in front of me. Werewolves lose themselves when they change on a full moon, they have absolutely no control, and hard as he tried to hold himself in…well, he bit me. So I became a werewolf too.” Her hand went to the spot where he’d bitten her, the first of the bites at least, and felt a twinge at the memory. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Count It: 711 Dedicate It: Blaise/Lullaby Comment It: Wow, this is one of my longest.

[lullaby.of.lies]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] Blaise gingerly took the papers back from Nora, her hands noticeably defying her false cool and shaking slightly. She braced herself as Nora open her mouth, then closed it; definitely not a good start. Oh god, I've gone and done it again; now she'll start looking at me like I deserve to be in an asylum... like I deserve a jacket that will constantly make me hug myself, dear joy! “This, Rose, she told you that vampires and werewolves really exist right?” Theoretically speaking, because this is all is fiction of course, it wasn't so much she told me as it was that she forced it down my throat; but yes, I suppose that was the case. Blaise looked down at her feet, subconsciously twisting her fingers around one another as she always did when uncomfortable within a situation. “Well, I uh…I know about that. They do exist, I’ve known for about three years now. I met a boy, he was really nice and really sweet, but I could always tell that he was hiding something from me.” All movement Blaise had previously been making ceased abruptly; slowly she inclined her head, giving herself time to absorb everything she had just heard, until once more she was gazing at Nora...she knows too! “One night, on a full moon, I went to visit him. I’m sure you’ve guessed by now that he was a werewolf. To make a long story short, I only found out that he was a werewolf after he changed right in front of me. Werewolves lose themselves when they change on a full moon, they have absolutely no control, and hard as he tried to hold himself in…well, he bit me. So I became a werewolf too.” Short and directly to the point, just like that, Nora had confided in Blaise what she was; a werewolf. She was pretty sure, at that exact moment, her jaw was hanging much farther open than what was natural. As not to give Nora the wrong impression, Blaise swiftly gathered her wits about her; it only occurred to her then that Nora's hand had ascended to her skin the moment she had said her boyfriend had bit her... stirred memories causing her to have flashbacks judging by the look in her eyes. As to not disturb Nora's memories further, she steered away from that aspect of her confession. How... how long have you been a... werewolf? She tried not to have her voice quaver, but it was to no avail. Up until this point, she never recalled actually saying the words, vampire or werewolf, with conviction. Sure, she'd said it a million times when they were fictional, entirely derived of someones ideas, but she'd never said it with meaning, belief, as she would say someones name or such. It sounded... awkward; like when someone tryings swearing for the first time and they feel it just doesn't belong within their mouth, it feels wrong passing their lips. Despite saying Rose hadn't, she had be-stilled within Blaise a miniscule amount of fear for that of which was once only smoke in the air. Nora looked just as out of place in the situation as she felt though, and that helped Blaise to relax, if only a small amount. Nora, didn't present herself anything like Rose had, and that had to be worth something in terms of a first impression; Blaise's instincts weren't screaming at her as they could, possibly should, have been, which was yet another good omen. Just breathe... no fear. The count comes to 635 (with code). Blaise's conversation has been tagged to Nora . She is flaunting this! right now. Her puppeteer would also like you to know yay for Nora xD hehe.

[Inora Theos]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000806] Inora smiled at Blaise’s question and thought about it carefully. It had been a long time since she’d thought about Logan and her transformation from human to werewolf. It seemed like a lifetime ago but really it had only been a few years. She could tell that Blaise was frightened, and Inora could definitely understand. It had been different for her, she’s been introduced to the world of vampires and werewolves gently. Someone she’d thought she was in love with had broken it to her, it was surely a lot easier that way. Inora wished that she could have broken it to Blaise that way and once again felt her heart rail against Rose’s treatment of her. She should have known better, but that was the bad thing about Rose, she could be quite heartless at times, unless you had earned her love. “I’ve been a werewolf now for about two and a half years. It’s been an interesting two and a half years also. I have met so many interesting people, werewolf, vampire, and human alike. So many great memories too, my life has actually gotten better since I became a wolf. My best friend in the world is a vampire, they’re not all bad. And even Rose, well she has her bad days but she can also be really sweet. She’s been, a little off her rocker these days and much as I love her she has a real problem respecting mortals, I apologize for that.” She sighed and then had a brilliant idea. “I could call my friend Ali, if you want to talk to a vampire who’s actually nice. She could help me to answer any of the questions you might have.” Ali Shadings, now Ali Ambrose, was Inora’s very best friend in the whole world. The two of them seemed to connect on a level that had never happened before with anyone else Inora knew. She was also one of the sweetest people that Inora had ever met. Out of the four ‘lovies’ in their group, Inora and Ali were the sweet ones, the ones that everyone came to when they wanted sweet and happy. Nixie and Rosey were the ones you went to when you needed someone’s ass kicked. Although Ali could kick some ass when she needed to as well. Of course, that tended to mean that most people preferred Ali or Inora to Nixie or Rosey, and almost all humans did. It was tough sometimes, but she loved her friends, every single one of them had their place and their uses. “If you have any questions that is. Ali’s been around for a pretty long time, even though she looks like she’s only 15.” Inora laughed. “Ali’s funny, she talks like she’s an adult and looks like she’s a child, it causes a lot of trouble for her. Those moments of ‘aww aren’t you cute, acting like a big girl’ from people are what usually makes her kick ass side come out.” She laughed again and shook her head, all the love she had for her friend showing through her face. Inora herself had had the problems that Blaise was having when she’d first learned about the supernatural being real. She hadn’t really been able to believe it but she’d know that she had to, she’d seen too much proof for it not to be true. Her whole life had been shaped around the supernatural in fact, her mother had always known about it, but she’d never informed Inora of the truth. In fact, Inora was practically destined to become a werewolf, it had been in her blood before she’d been bitten by Logan. Her mother was a prostitute and her father was one of the favorite clients, who also happened to be a werewolf. Unfortunately, Melody only discovered Inora’s father’s identity after she’d gotten pregnant. The first 15 years of Inora’s life were spent in fear on her mother’s side, fear that Inora would shift. Suddenly, Inora wanted to share this with Blaise, she’d never shared it with anyone. “I’ve actually been a part of the supernatural world since I was born, I just didn’t know it. My mom was…well she was a prostitute and she got impregnated by one of her clients. She only found out afterwards that the man was a werewolf. My mom couldn’t stand the thought of getting rid of me though, so she went through with the pregnancy. She half expected to give birth to a wolf pup,” Inora laughed at the memory, these were things her mother had never imparted to her in person, but years after her death Inora had discovered journals detailing it. “Every day that I was growing up, my mom expected me to change into a werewolf. Luckily for her that didn’t happen, I don’t know how she would have reacted to that. Probably would have given her a heart attack.” Inora chuckled again and then continued, her face growing stony as she came to the end of her mother’s story. “A few weeks after my fifteenth birthday, my father got curious, he’d never gotten a woman pregnant before, and had never met anyone who had done so either. He didn’t know what happened with the child, whether they changed into a wolf or not. He showed up on a full moon, wanting to see if I changed.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I didn’t change but…he did. Like I said, wolves lose themselves when they change on the full moon. He changed and became rabid, he attacked my mom and tried to attack me when I came downstairs. I didn’t know that he was a werewolf, I just thought a wolf had somehow gotten in. My mom stayed behind, letting him kill her so I could get away.” Inora looked up and tried to fight the tears that threatened at the edges of her vision. “I came back in the morning after spending the night locked in the bathroom, hearing strange scratching noises at the door. I was terrified, I thought he was going to kill me too. He actually got in once, before I managed to get him back out again he scratched me across the stomach. It left a scar.” Inora lifted her shirt and showed the scar, it looked pearly in the moonlight. “Anyway, I left the bathroom in the morning after much arguing with myself. I found my mom’s body just lying there…mangled.” She took a deep breath and then let it out, shaking. “It was hard for me to be a werewolf at first, knowing that my mom had been killed by my kind. But I’ve forgiven myself, and my fellow wolves.” She trembled and looked down at the ground, happy to have shared it with someone for once. She didn’t remember ever telling Ali the story of her past, Blaise now held a part of Inora that even her best friends didn’t possess. "I've never told anyone that before." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Count It: 1,167--oh my god! Dedicate It: Blaise/Lullaby Comment It: I dunno why, I just felt like telling Inora's story, hope that's okay.

[lullaby.of.lies]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] So Nora knew Rose, though apparently on better terms than Blaise did. She had caught hints of some kind of heart within her, but according to Nora that side of her was only available to her "special" friends. A hint of a smile touched the corners of her lips; meet another vampire? a nice one? She'd always claimed that she was game to try anything once; but her one shot had been with Rose and it had been an utter fail. Still, Nora seemed so genuine, and Blaise couldn't help but wonder if the second time was a charm... or was it the third. Technically, Nora was the second, so yes... Ali would be the third. I don't know, I guess, I mean... I don't really have anything more to loose in the matter; and she sounds nice enough, that is, if she truly is as you say she is. She smiled at the thought of a child who verbalized far beyond their years and fought back when challenged about it; that was something she herself could relate to, fighting back against the odds. Nora showed much compassion for her friend, making Blaise wish she had someone who thought the same way of her. She could feel herself warming towards Nora, something she hadn't entirely expected. Though she couldn't consider her a friend just yet, she could see herself doing so in the future; which is why Blaise was in such disbelief when Nora began to regale the tale of how she herself had become part of the supernatural world, a story that was certainly something more personal than you'd tell just any stranger. A million and one questions ran rampant through her head, careening into the sides of her skull in a battery of assault as she listened intently; but Blaise remained completely and utterly silent. Within her heart of hearts she knew it was only right to allow Nora to conclude her story before she asked the questions that her mind so direly wanted the answers too. She watched as Nora's demeanor went from happy, to sad, to distant; as if Blaise were no longer there and she was verbally recalling the story for her own ears alone and no one else's. But, as if Nora knew what thoughts were running through Blaise's mind, she looked at her, acknowledging her presence as she herself fought back a barrage of tears that were threatening to break loose. Blaise couldn't help but feel sympathy for the poor girl, for she too had had a horrible introduction into the unknown; they were both products of their surroundings. Suddenly, her questions no longer seemed relevant; she'd only confided in Blaise, someone she didn't even remotely know, everything she had only seconds ago spoken of. Blaise opened her mouth, attempting to voice some kind of empathy, compassion, understanding, anything!... but nothing came from her lips but the silent breath she had unconsciously been holding; perhaps, somethings were better left unsaid. Certainly Blaise could relate to her on some levels, and as she looked into Nora's eyes she hoped she could understand that. Her eyes drifted once more to the ground as she began to twiddle her fingers; her rationality was that it was only fair that she too share a piece of her past, a piece of herself. I was six when my mother was murdered, by her own brother none the less; they got into an argument over their father's estate and my uncle shot my mother's face clean off. Worst part of it all was she didn't die right away, she lived in a coma for three days... I didn't even know about that part myself until recently. I never got to say goodbye to her, though I could have if my father weren't so god damn stubborn all the time. Maybe it was right of him to break things to me gently, to not allow me to see her mangled; he told my up until I was 12 that she'd just gone away, I assumed she'd up and left us, and some part of me hated her for it. On the year of my twelfth birthday, after I'd asked him boundless questions for years and years on end, he finally told me; told me everything. I don't know what would have been worse now, actually seeing my mother like that, or imaging it night after night when I dream of it. An imagination is an awful thing to have in a situation such as that; I still wake up screaming at night. She looked up at Nora once more, giving a halfhearted smile. All her emotion on the subject was spent, she had no more tears to cry over it. So I guess in some sort of twisted, screwed up, kind of way I know where you're coming from. I am sorry for your hardships, truly, though they seemed to have shaped you into a better person from what I can tell. She dared say that her first impressions of Nora were correct. I'm honored that I'm the first you've told, and you're secrets are safe with me as long as you wish them to be. The count comes to 907 (with code). Blaise's conversation has been tagged to Nora. She is flaunting this! right now. Her puppeteer would also like you to know I don't mind at all m'dear =] you write as much as you want about whatever you want xP.