Running with the Devil
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Running with the Devil
Merlot Di'Avorissio Wed Dec 22, 2010 6:44 am
Characters: Merlot, Nikloi.
When: Sometime in November.
Where: Moscow, Russia.
Merlot felt like a damn blood hound. Why did she have to wait so long to do this? To do what she wanted to do, to seek whom she wanted to find to either hand him his heart back, the one that she knew he had hidden away from the world or to bury him. No, that wouldn't be something she'd be able to do, not ever but she kept telling herself that she could do it. To bury him like he had buried her, to hurt him in some way that would feel almost as good as telling someone to go bugger off. Merlot was on a break, one that wasn't really allowed in her duties. It felt like she was breaking the law, going off on her own (even if she was an adult), leaving behind things to find herself half way across the world -- To find herself back somewhere familiar, somewhere that once was home. Wasn't there a saying that home was were the heart grows? That your roots were already gripping for support and all you had to do was come back to it all. Merlot knew that if it hadn't been for the sole reason of tracking down the man, whom she had been trying to find again for years now; she wouldn't have come back to the isolated barren wasteland where hearts and people alike grew frigid, not fonder.
Merlot stayed to light, any light. It honestly didn't matter while her hands were stuffed in the over-sized coat. She didn't miss it here, she didn't want to call it home again -- Didn't want to ever come back her, didn't want to have to shake the snow out of her hair every time she stepped out into the winter, didn't want to have to worry about being swallowed up by the rain, even though she had that worry back in the States. Those weren't the reason, none of them. Merlot simply didn't want to be haunted anymore but the ghosts of the past. Those were scarier to her then any works of Shadowkind could ever produce, those were even more feared then the darkness closing around her. Her eyes fluttered towards the lamp posts, scowling as she saw one the bulbs fizzle out, leaving that area of shaded dark. The cigarette that had been between her fingers came to be smoked, dragging the life out of it as she hesitated. She had a dream once that she over-came her fear of the dark, just be pushed out by another new fear. Sinister, something that dreamed once a happy ending, twisting and turning into a creature that she didn't understand. There was a lot that she didn't understand when it came to the mind and it shapes fear, how it substitutes something for another, how it took hold of a person and it was the sole thing that could bring them to their knees. Why Moscow, why home. Why this time of year - Why now. Merlot had heard a few things: coverage on the news, whispering from persons who still said that they had contact with the ghost that haunted Merlot - A lot of things came in one ear, but never left her mind. No, instead, the news left her mind buzzing with anticipation, want, need. It also left it with hurt and bubbling suffering, some buried scars that still remained.
She should've called her Mother before she left, should've told at least one person where she was going, who she was tracking - just in case of a her multiple brushes with death finally came to play. She paused, standing in the snow that buried the feet to the boots, reaching into her pocket and grabbing the cell. Looking at the time, remembering the time difference; Merlot decided against it. She'd be back in Seattle in no time, promise. Her eyes went back to the fizzled out street lamp as she raised an eyebrow, it was the only way that she knew of to get to the political house. Taking another drag off of the cigarette, the Romanian blood moved on. Her heart pulsing, beating a bit too fast - too hard, her breath shallow and her lungs hated her for it, screaming as they burned for the minutes that she kept it there. It was only about six steps in the snow where that street lamp had gone dark, it seemed a torturous forever as she stepped through it. Think of something else, think of Seattle with the rain - Of puppy dogs and of kittens. Think of summers in Italy and waking up to sunshine. Merlot always felt weak whenever it came to darkness, always the little girl with the over active imagination. The little girl who wanted to run to Mommy and Daddy, to make them get rid of the thing that scared her. She didn't have that, she didn't and couldn't call -- She could face devils and demons alike, but not the dark? What happened if one of her charges was facing life and death, in the dark and she had to save him/her? Or fight with them. She didn't want to think about that, not now.
She climbed up the steps to the political building, slowly shaking the snow from her boots as she did so. Slowly glancing at the double doors, Merlot had a revelation: What if he wasn't here? What if she wasted her time, yet again. It wouldn't be the first time. She had spent numerous summers, breaks and even vacations tracking down the Beast - always coming up short, no answers and a lot more questions. Merlot had grown accustomed to the ache in her heart though, becoming numb and territorial for dominance. She was searching for goodness, for the angel or saint that she knew and believed still sulked behind those double doors, that sulked somewhere in a conference. That was it! Merlot yanked the door on the right open and finally stepped in. She remembered once coming here as a child, some time before moving to the States. This place terrified her as a child. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a name that she recongized, a name that haunted her to this day - that sent chills through out the criss-cross patterns on her back as she swallowed. There was still goodness inside the Devil, right? Wasn't he originally an Angel. So there still had to be goodness inside the man, inside the boy that she remembered. The one that she crossed oceans repeatedly, hunting down until the scent grew cold and the stories were lost. Taking off the coat, she held it in her hands to hide the fact that her fingers were trembling. Merlot stepped inside one of the open doors, just before the man closed it. There was press -- What had she stepped into? Sighing softly, Merlot would wait two seconds before leaving again, fearing that the trail had grown cold once again.
When: Sometime in November.
Where: Moscow, Russia.
Merlot felt like a damn blood hound. Why did she have to wait so long to do this? To do what she wanted to do, to seek whom she wanted to find to either hand him his heart back, the one that she knew he had hidden away from the world or to bury him. No, that wouldn't be something she'd be able to do, not ever but she kept telling herself that she could do it. To bury him like he had buried her, to hurt him in some way that would feel almost as good as telling someone to go bugger off. Merlot was on a break, one that wasn't really allowed in her duties. It felt like she was breaking the law, going off on her own (even if she was an adult), leaving behind things to find herself half way across the world -- To find herself back somewhere familiar, somewhere that once was home. Wasn't there a saying that home was were the heart grows? That your roots were already gripping for support and all you had to do was come back to it all. Merlot knew that if it hadn't been for the sole reason of tracking down the man, whom she had been trying to find again for years now; she wouldn't have come back to the isolated barren wasteland where hearts and people alike grew frigid, not fonder.
Merlot stayed to light, any light. It honestly didn't matter while her hands were stuffed in the over-sized coat. She didn't miss it here, she didn't want to call it home again -- Didn't want to ever come back her, didn't want to have to shake the snow out of her hair every time she stepped out into the winter, didn't want to have to worry about being swallowed up by the rain, even though she had that worry back in the States. Those weren't the reason, none of them. Merlot simply didn't want to be haunted anymore but the ghosts of the past. Those were scarier to her then any works of Shadowkind could ever produce, those were even more feared then the darkness closing around her. Her eyes fluttered towards the lamp posts, scowling as she saw one the bulbs fizzle out, leaving that area of shaded dark. The cigarette that had been between her fingers came to be smoked, dragging the life out of it as she hesitated. She had a dream once that she over-came her fear of the dark, just be pushed out by another new fear. Sinister, something that dreamed once a happy ending, twisting and turning into a creature that she didn't understand. There was a lot that she didn't understand when it came to the mind and it shapes fear, how it substitutes something for another, how it took hold of a person and it was the sole thing that could bring them to their knees. Why Moscow, why home. Why this time of year - Why now. Merlot had heard a few things: coverage on the news, whispering from persons who still said that they had contact with the ghost that haunted Merlot - A lot of things came in one ear, but never left her mind. No, instead, the news left her mind buzzing with anticipation, want, need. It also left it with hurt and bubbling suffering, some buried scars that still remained.
She should've called her Mother before she left, should've told at least one person where she was going, who she was tracking - just in case of a her multiple brushes with death finally came to play. She paused, standing in the snow that buried the feet to the boots, reaching into her pocket and grabbing the cell. Looking at the time, remembering the time difference; Merlot decided against it. She'd be back in Seattle in no time, promise. Her eyes went back to the fizzled out street lamp as she raised an eyebrow, it was the only way that she knew of to get to the political house. Taking another drag off of the cigarette, the Romanian blood moved on. Her heart pulsing, beating a bit too fast - too hard, her breath shallow and her lungs hated her for it, screaming as they burned for the minutes that she kept it there. It was only about six steps in the snow where that street lamp had gone dark, it seemed a torturous forever as she stepped through it. Think of something else, think of Seattle with the rain - Of puppy dogs and of kittens. Think of summers in Italy and waking up to sunshine. Merlot always felt weak whenever it came to darkness, always the little girl with the over active imagination. The little girl who wanted to run to Mommy and Daddy, to make them get rid of the thing that scared her. She didn't have that, she didn't and couldn't call -- She could face devils and demons alike, but not the dark? What happened if one of her charges was facing life and death, in the dark and she had to save him/her? Or fight with them. She didn't want to think about that, not now.
She climbed up the steps to the political building, slowly shaking the snow from her boots as she did so. Slowly glancing at the double doors, Merlot had a revelation: What if he wasn't here? What if she wasted her time, yet again. It wouldn't be the first time. She had spent numerous summers, breaks and even vacations tracking down the Beast - always coming up short, no answers and a lot more questions. Merlot had grown accustomed to the ache in her heart though, becoming numb and territorial for dominance. She was searching for goodness, for the angel or saint that she knew and believed still sulked behind those double doors, that sulked somewhere in a conference. That was it! Merlot yanked the door on the right open and finally stepped in. She remembered once coming here as a child, some time before moving to the States. This place terrified her as a child. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a name that she recongized, a name that haunted her to this day - that sent chills through out the criss-cross patterns on her back as she swallowed. There was still goodness inside the Devil, right? Wasn't he originally an Angel. So there still had to be goodness inside the man, inside the boy that she remembered. The one that she crossed oceans repeatedly, hunting down until the scent grew cold and the stories were lost. Taking off the coat, she held it in her hands to hide the fact that her fingers were trembling. Merlot stepped inside one of the open doors, just before the man closed it. There was press -- What had she stepped into? Sighing softly, Merlot would wait two seconds before leaving again, fearing that the trail had grown cold once again.
Last edited by Merlot Di'Avorissio on Thu Dec 23, 2010 11:01 am; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Was drunk, put the topic up so that I wouldn't forget it. ^^ <3)
Merlot Di'Avorissio- Arcane-Touched
- Domain : Arcane Protector
Posts : 26
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