Hand drawn original Artist Trading Card, traded this year
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
I saw the prompt ,
and not paying close attention I thought it was for the Live Journal Beginnings community. (Use the sentance exactly as given, under 500 words.)
So I wrote this one.
word count 485,
"You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink."
part of the Blood Servants univers. Magge/Joseph
( http://nessa5.livejournal.com Look at the tags)
When I went to post it, I found out the prompt was for 100drabbles
Opps! So I'm posting it anyway.
I'm also using this for 100_prompts
Prompt #40, Chained
You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. But in the case of the horse being a newly wakened vampire nearly out of his mind with overpowering hunger, and the water is the man who had debauched his wife and is chained to the wall, gibbering in fright, it is not so much a matter of getting him to drink, than it is cleaning up the mess after.
The first hours of a new vampire’s life are an assault on the senses. They can hear the mouse in the wall or a conversation in house next door; their new vision is strange as parts of the spectrum they didn’t know existed are now visible. Not to mention the feel of wind on their face or the thread in their clothes. The new sense of smell is an overpowering surprise, and not necessarily a pleasant one, at least not until they get their first whiff of blood.
That smell of blood brings hunger.
Usually the first meal will have been provided by the sire. Some innocent tied up and laid out for the fledgling like a holiday feast. Some fledgling will balk at taking a human life, and they have to be coaxed into their first feeding. But with the first few drops of blood on their tongues, nature takes over. Others have no qualms and are eager to satisfy their new hunger.
The first victim is not going to survive, nor will the next five or ten. Controlling the hunger, to take only a little at a time, allowing the victim to live, takes practice and self-discipline. Eventually they learn how to keep their humans alive for months before they have to be disposed of.
Joseph first meal was beautiful. The man I had left chained to the wall for him after waking from his three night coma was the very same man who had a few years before seduced his wife. Joseph had walked in unexpectedly on the pair inflagranti, and in a rage, had killed the girl. The man had gotten away and Joseph had been unable to find him.
I had. It hadn’t been easy. But after seeing Joseph’s reaction to my gift, the effort had been worth it.
Even though the smell of blood had to have been overpowering, Joseph didn’t attack right away. The room was small, but Joseph stalked his prey, slowly, until the man recognize exactly who and what he was… he was almost relieved when Joseph yanked him up with one hand and sank his new fangs deep into his neck. Joseph bit deep and severed the carotid artery. A newbie mistake. Blood was everywhere! It is impossible to drink neatly from there unless the victim is already nearly drained.
The only thing that Joseph ever regretted when he came to his senses was that I made him clean up the mess.
and not paying close attention I thought it was for the Live Journal Beginnings community. (Use the sentance exactly as given, under 500 words.)
So I wrote this one.
word count 485,
"You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink."
part of the Blood Servants univers. Magge/Joseph
( http://nessa5.livejournal.com Look at the tags)
When I went to post it, I found out the prompt was for 100drabbles
Opps! So I'm posting it anyway.
I'm also using this for 100_prompts
Prompt #40, Chained
You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. But in the case of the horse being a newly wakened vampire nearly out of his mind with overpowering hunger, and the water is the man who had debauched his wife and is chained to the wall, gibbering in fright, it is not so much a matter of getting him to drink, than it is cleaning up the mess after.
The first hours of a new vampire’s life are an assault on the senses. They can hear the mouse in the wall or a conversation in house next door; their new vision is strange as parts of the spectrum they didn’t know existed are now visible. Not to mention the feel of wind on their face or the thread in their clothes. The new sense of smell is an overpowering surprise, and not necessarily a pleasant one, at least not until they get their first whiff of blood.
That smell of blood brings hunger.
Usually the first meal will have been provided by the sire. Some innocent tied up and laid out for the fledgling like a holiday feast. Some fledgling will balk at taking a human life, and they have to be coaxed into their first feeding. But with the first few drops of blood on their tongues, nature takes over. Others have no qualms and are eager to satisfy their new hunger.
The first victim is not going to survive, nor will the next five or ten. Controlling the hunger, to take only a little at a time, allowing the victim to live, takes practice and self-discipline. Eventually they learn how to keep their humans alive for months before they have to be disposed of.
Joseph first meal was beautiful. The man I had left chained to the wall for him after waking from his three night coma was the very same man who had a few years before seduced his wife. Joseph had walked in unexpectedly on the pair inflagranti, and in a rage, had killed the girl. The man had gotten away and Joseph had been unable to find him.
I had. It hadn’t been easy. But after seeing Joseph’s reaction to my gift, the effort had been worth it.
Even though the smell of blood had to have been overpowering, Joseph didn’t attack right away. The room was small, but Joseph stalked his prey, slowly, until the man recognize exactly who and what he was… he was almost relieved when Joseph yanked him up with one hand and sank his new fangs deep into his neck. Joseph bit deep and severed the carotid artery. A newbie mistake. Blood was everywhere! It is impossible to drink neatly from there unless the victim is already nearly drained.
The only thing that Joseph ever regretted when he came to his senses was that I made him clean up the mess.
drabble, Finger Painting
written for 100drabbles
11/11/07
Finger-painting
It was on his fingers, warm, red, slick, with its own unique smell. He wondered what it tasted like, but he didn’t try to taste it. It was draining from his body creating sinister pool on the floor around him. He never thought his friend would plunge a dagger into stomach and leave him for dead. The sad part was he still didn’t know why. He wasn’t dead yet, but he would be soon. It irked him that no one would know who had killed him. He stared at the blood on his fingers and the white wall beside him
11/11/07
Finger-painting
It was on his fingers, warm, red, slick, with its own unique smell. He wondered what it tasted like, but he didn’t try to taste it. It was draining from his body creating sinister pool on the floor around him. He never thought his friend would plunge a dagger into stomach and leave him for dead. The sad part was he still didn’t know why. He wasn’t dead yet, but he would be soon. It irked him that no one would know who had killed him. He stared at the blood on his fingers and the white wall beside him
drabble, Dark and Stormy Night
Drabble for 100drabbles
Prompt cobblestones
And beginnings challenge 57 it was a dark….
It was a dark and stormy night. And Theodora loved it.
Lightening flashed bright over head and the thunder crashed immediately on it’s heals. In her white nightdress she danced with bare feet on the cobblestones of an empty road. She spun around and around, laughing like the loony escaped from a cell that she was.
Behind her she heard the guards looking for her, calling her name, and she danced away faster.
They found her the next morning, she was cold and dead. But the strange blissful look on her face would haunt them the rest of their lives…
Prompt cobblestones
And beginnings challenge 57 it was a dark….
It was a dark and stormy night. And Theodora loved it.
Lightening flashed bright over head and the thunder crashed immediately on it’s heals. In her white nightdress she danced with bare feet on the cobblestones of an empty road. She spun around and around, laughing like the loony escaped from a cell that she was.
Behind her she heard the guards looking for her, calling her name, and she danced away faster.
They found her the next morning, she was cold and dead. But the strange blissful look on her face would haunt them the rest of their lives…
happy ending drabble
Written for
Title of your piece
Submitted by Nessa5/Kelli
Submitted for Challenge #61, What do you want, a happy ending?
Time: about 15 minutes
Rating: G
Word count: 100 (I didn’t start out to write a drabble)
“What do you want, a happy ending?”
“Then you should pick another play.”
“But I want to do this one. Can’t you change the ending?” her voice sweet and wheedling.
“No.”
“But I want to be Juliet.” She whined…
“No.” Her chin quivering is not going to make me back down.
“Tears are not going to get me to rewrite Shakespeare.” I said firmly.
The chin stopped quivering, and she stamped her foot, “You’re horrible! I’m never going to speak to you again!” She stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
“I can only hope,” I sighed.
Title of your piece
Submitted by Nessa5/Kelli
Submitted for Challenge #61, What do you want, a happy ending?
Time: about 15 minutes
Rating: G
Word count: 100 (I didn’t start out to write a drabble)
“What do you want, a happy ending?”
“Then you should pick another play.”
“But I want to do this one. Can’t you change the ending?” her voice sweet and wheedling.
“No.”
“But I want to be Juliet.” She whined…
“No.” Her chin quivering is not going to make me back down.
“Tears are not going to get me to rewrite Shakespeare.” I said firmly.
The chin stopped quivering, and she stamped her foot, “You’re horrible! I’m never going to speak to you again!” She stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
“I can only hope,” I sighed.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Sleepy Waters part ?/?
Mr. Smith had been keeping the lamps lit in the lighthouse tower for over twenty years. As he usually did in the evenings after checking on the lamps, he walked around the railing at the top of the tower, taking in the air, the ocean, and the night. When he looked down he saw a couple on the rocky beach below him embracing. This wasn’t the first time he’d caught couples looking for privacy, nor was it likely to be the last. He picked up his lantern and climbed down the stairs to shoo them away.
He opened the door at the bottom of the tower and his light fell directly on the man’s face. Caught off guard, the man looked up at him, fangs out and blood on his lips. He looked frightening and angry. Blood was clearly visible on the neck of the girl in his arms, Mr. Smith recognized her. She was one of the barmaids at the Cask & Cleaver. She seemed to be in a swoon and hung limply in the man’s arms.
The man growled, and Mr. Smith felt the vibration all the way to his toes. Courage wasn’t one of his virtues, and he turned and ran back into the lighthouse. He quickly locked and barricaded the door.
“Shiite.” Jacob Alexander said aloud after the old man had run back into the tower. He could hear the locks turning and a chair being dragged in front of the door. With a sigh for the inconvenience, he turned his attention back to the girl in his arms. He made sure the puncture wounds were closed and his lips were clean. “Millie,” the girl looked up at him, “Millie, go home. You only remember that we walked on the beach and that I kissed you.”
The girl smiled her eyes dreamy. “Will you kiss me again?”
“Of course I’ll kiss you again. I’ll come to you again soon. But you must keep our meetings secret.”
“Yes, secret. Our secret.”
“Good girl, now go straight home, Millie, and go to bed. You’ll see me again soon.”
Jacob watched until the girl was at the top of the path away from the beach before turning his attention to the lighthouse. The ground level door had been blocked. He looked to the top of the tower and grunted, it would be a stretch but he could make it, and it would certainly get his message to the keeper. He crouched and gathered his powers and leaped to the top of the tower. It was a near miss; he had to scramble a bit and grab the railing, but he was the only one who would know and he wasn’t going to tell anyone. It was easier to jump down from a height then up.
He could hear the man’s heart beat speed up as he walked slowly down the stairs, deliberately letting each step echo throughout the tower.
At the bottom of the stairs the man cowered against the locked door, too afraid to open it and run. He was old, but not ancient, and he smelled of tobacco and sweat. The thought of putting his mouth on the man was repugnant. Fortunately there was another way.
“You saw too much, Mr. Smith.” Jacob remembered the man’s name mentioned in town. He kept his voice was low, calm, and threatening. “I was careless, and now we have a problem.”
“I--, I promise I won’t say anything, Mr. Alexander sir.” Jacob wasn’t surprised the man recognized him; it was a fairly small town. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“I don’t want to hurt, you Mr. Smith, and I don’t want to kill you either.” The lighthouse keeper blanched. “But I can’t have you telling anyone what you saw.” Mr. Smith stammered again that he wouldn’t tell that he would forget what he saw and so on. Jacob used the skills he’d learned in several centuries of living to order the man to sit down. Mr. Smith obeyed without turning his back on the menacing vampire.
Jacob looked around the shabby room and found what he was looking for; a coffee cup was upside down on the drain board by a bucket of dirty soapy water. He took the cup and set it on the table before the frightened man. “Roll up your sleeve Mr. Smith.”
While Mr. Smith shakily rolled up his sleeve Jacob took out his key ring and removed the small folding knife he kept on it. The blade was only about an inch long, but it was very sharp. He handed it to the man, who took it in his fingers as though it were a live scorpion.
“Fill the cup Mr. Smith. Fill the cup with your blood and swear your loyalty to me. Then I’ll know that you will not betray me.” And he would too; drinking the blood from a cup would make a one-way bond, enough to alert him if Mr. Smith decided to talk, but it would not allow him to directly influence his thinking like it did for Millie and his other victims in the area.
With shaking fingers and a few false starts, the old man managed to cut an inch long incision inside his forearm. The red drops that quickly started filling the cup seemed to be brightest spot of color in the room. The sight and smell held Jacob’s attention and made his fangs extend. To control his victim without actually biting him he needed to control himself. Fortunately, he had centuries of practice.
Though it had started quickly, the blood flow stopped before the cup was half full. The vampire waited unmoving until the man made another shallow cut beside the first. When the cup was full, Jacob picked it up quickly and drained it while it was still warm. Mr. Smith gagged but quickly covered his revulsion by pulling an almost clean handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it over the cuts.
As the blood entered his body, the old man’s thought opened up to him. Fear, fascination, and confusion were close to the top. Jacob reached deeper into the man’s mind to see that he was greedy and lazy and, luckily for Jacob, more concerned for his own life than the life of a girl he scarcely knew.
He would have to come back tomorrow and reinforce his fear, Jacob thought, but with the right combination of bribe and threat the man would stay quiet. Perhaps it had been a lucky night for him after all. He would have to return every few weeks to renew the bond, but it also gave him another source of blood, one that managed correctly could last several years instead of only months.
“If you even think about telling anyone what you saw tonight, I will know. Do you understand?” Mr. Smith nodded, not taking his eyes off of Jacob. That wasn’t good enough “Say it Mr. Smith, say it aloud.”
Mr. Smith swallowed. “I won’t tell anybody anything about you Mr. Alexander.”
“If you do, I can make your death long and painful. Do you believe me?”
“I—I do.”
“Remember that.” With one hand Jacob moved the heavy chair from the doorway and broke the locks open. He turned back one last time to the frightened man. “Keep the knife, Mr. Smith, you will need it again.” He let himself smile for the first time since his meal had been interrupted. It made him look like a charming harmless young man and that frightened the lighthouse keeper more than if he had bared his fangs.
Satisfied, Jacob walked back up the path to town. The evening was still young and there was live music at the bar tonight.
Back at the lighthouse, Mr. Smith found the half full bottle of brandy he kept hidden behind the sink and drank the rest of it.
He opened the door at the bottom of the tower and his light fell directly on the man’s face. Caught off guard, the man looked up at him, fangs out and blood on his lips. He looked frightening and angry. Blood was clearly visible on the neck of the girl in his arms, Mr. Smith recognized her. She was one of the barmaids at the Cask & Cleaver. She seemed to be in a swoon and hung limply in the man’s arms.
The man growled, and Mr. Smith felt the vibration all the way to his toes. Courage wasn’t one of his virtues, and he turned and ran back into the lighthouse. He quickly locked and barricaded the door.
“Shiite.” Jacob Alexander said aloud after the old man had run back into the tower. He could hear the locks turning and a chair being dragged in front of the door. With a sigh for the inconvenience, he turned his attention back to the girl in his arms. He made sure the puncture wounds were closed and his lips were clean. “Millie,” the girl looked up at him, “Millie, go home. You only remember that we walked on the beach and that I kissed you.”
The girl smiled her eyes dreamy. “Will you kiss me again?”
“Of course I’ll kiss you again. I’ll come to you again soon. But you must keep our meetings secret.”
“Yes, secret. Our secret.”
“Good girl, now go straight home, Millie, and go to bed. You’ll see me again soon.”
Jacob watched until the girl was at the top of the path away from the beach before turning his attention to the lighthouse. The ground level door had been blocked. He looked to the top of the tower and grunted, it would be a stretch but he could make it, and it would certainly get his message to the keeper. He crouched and gathered his powers and leaped to the top of the tower. It was a near miss; he had to scramble a bit and grab the railing, but he was the only one who would know and he wasn’t going to tell anyone. It was easier to jump down from a height then up.
He could hear the man’s heart beat speed up as he walked slowly down the stairs, deliberately letting each step echo throughout the tower.
At the bottom of the stairs the man cowered against the locked door, too afraid to open it and run. He was old, but not ancient, and he smelled of tobacco and sweat. The thought of putting his mouth on the man was repugnant. Fortunately there was another way.
“You saw too much, Mr. Smith.” Jacob remembered the man’s name mentioned in town. He kept his voice was low, calm, and threatening. “I was careless, and now we have a problem.”
“I--, I promise I won’t say anything, Mr. Alexander sir.” Jacob wasn’t surprised the man recognized him; it was a fairly small town. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“I don’t want to hurt, you Mr. Smith, and I don’t want to kill you either.” The lighthouse keeper blanched. “But I can’t have you telling anyone what you saw.” Mr. Smith stammered again that he wouldn’t tell that he would forget what he saw and so on. Jacob used the skills he’d learned in several centuries of living to order the man to sit down. Mr. Smith obeyed without turning his back on the menacing vampire.
Jacob looked around the shabby room and found what he was looking for; a coffee cup was upside down on the drain board by a bucket of dirty soapy water. He took the cup and set it on the table before the frightened man. “Roll up your sleeve Mr. Smith.”
While Mr. Smith shakily rolled up his sleeve Jacob took out his key ring and removed the small folding knife he kept on it. The blade was only about an inch long, but it was very sharp. He handed it to the man, who took it in his fingers as though it were a live scorpion.
“Fill the cup Mr. Smith. Fill the cup with your blood and swear your loyalty to me. Then I’ll know that you will not betray me.” And he would too; drinking the blood from a cup would make a one-way bond, enough to alert him if Mr. Smith decided to talk, but it would not allow him to directly influence his thinking like it did for Millie and his other victims in the area.
With shaking fingers and a few false starts, the old man managed to cut an inch long incision inside his forearm. The red drops that quickly started filling the cup seemed to be brightest spot of color in the room. The sight and smell held Jacob’s attention and made his fangs extend. To control his victim without actually biting him he needed to control himself. Fortunately, he had centuries of practice.
Though it had started quickly, the blood flow stopped before the cup was half full. The vampire waited unmoving until the man made another shallow cut beside the first. When the cup was full, Jacob picked it up quickly and drained it while it was still warm. Mr. Smith gagged but quickly covered his revulsion by pulling an almost clean handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it over the cuts.
As the blood entered his body, the old man’s thought opened up to him. Fear, fascination, and confusion were close to the top. Jacob reached deeper into the man’s mind to see that he was greedy and lazy and, luckily for Jacob, more concerned for his own life than the life of a girl he scarcely knew.
He would have to come back tomorrow and reinforce his fear, Jacob thought, but with the right combination of bribe and threat the man would stay quiet. Perhaps it had been a lucky night for him after all. He would have to return every few weeks to renew the bond, but it also gave him another source of blood, one that managed correctly could last several years instead of only months.
“If you even think about telling anyone what you saw tonight, I will know. Do you understand?” Mr. Smith nodded, not taking his eyes off of Jacob. That wasn’t good enough “Say it Mr. Smith, say it aloud.”
Mr. Smith swallowed. “I won’t tell anybody anything about you Mr. Alexander.”
“If you do, I can make your death long and painful. Do you believe me?”
“I—I do.”
“Remember that.” With one hand Jacob moved the heavy chair from the doorway and broke the locks open. He turned back one last time to the frightened man. “Keep the knife, Mr. Smith, you will need it again.” He let himself smile for the first time since his meal had been interrupted. It made him look like a charming harmless young man and that frightened the lighthouse keeper more than if he had bared his fangs.
Satisfied, Jacob walked back up the path to town. The evening was still young and there was live music at the bar tonight.
Back at the lighthouse, Mr. Smith found the half full bottle of brandy he kept hidden behind the sink and drank the rest of it.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
I posting here because lj is down with a power out.
Okay, I tryed to add pictures to this post, and they have uploaded but I don't see them. I really dont' like the interface of this site
I find interface on b-log to be clunky to use and still haven't figuared out how to edit old posts.
or read and reply to coments on a post.
I don't like that there is no friends page like on the journal sites.
I'm going to have to start a bookmark list of interesting b-logs, but it is a nusance to have to open each page to see if there is something new.
Okay, I tryed to add pictures to this post, and they have uploaded but I don't see them. I really dont' like the interface of this site
I find interface on b-log to be clunky to use and still haven't figuared out how to edit old posts.
or read and reply to coments on a post.
I don't like that there is no friends page like on the journal sites.
I'm going to have to start a bookmark list of interesting b-logs, but it is a nusance to have to open each page to see if there is something new.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
my card store
Ha! I got the widgit to work! I only had to change the whole page to mke it fit....
so please click on my card shop or click here
http://www.greetingcarduniverse.com/nessa5
to see some cards you can buy.
If there is a picture in my blog you'd like to have as a card, let me know and I will upload it the my new store.
Thank You,
I can use all the pennies I can get... ;)
Kelli
so please click on my card shop or click here
http://www.greetingcarduniverse.com/nessa5
to see some cards you can buy.
If there is a picture in my blog you'd like to have as a card, let me know and I will upload it the my new store.
Thank You,
I can use all the pennies I can get... ;)
Kelli
well, this sucks
blog made a mandatory switch over to use google. I didn't really want to regerster with google, but I did any way.
they said I wouldn't loose any of the content of my page.
They lied!
My side bar list of links that was handed by http://www.blogrolling.com/members.phtml
is now not working. And I can't figuar out hwo to reedit my side bars.
It has a lovey page to 'customize your page!' but when I try to use it, I keep getting directed to the widget page, without any clear instructions on how to use them too.
Can anyone help me figuar this out?
It took me the better part of aday to do it the first time and that was bugging my freinds for help more than once.
they said I wouldn't loose any of the content of my page.
They lied!
My side bar list of links that was handed by http://www.blogrolling.com/members.phtml
is now not working. And I can't figuar out hwo to reedit my side bars.
It has a lovey page to 'customize your page!' but when I try to use it, I keep getting directed to the widget page, without any clear instructions on how to use them too.
Can anyone help me figuar this out?
It took me the better part of aday to do it the first time and that was bugging my freinds for help more than once.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
