When Did It Start

When Did It Start

When did it all start? *sighs* That is not something I can say. One night, across my line of vision, he was just there. His essence called to me. His smile, his look, the way he spoke my name, called to me. Perhaps, like Paul Sawyer and my unusual friendship with him, it was the same. *shaking my head* Non, not really the same as I do not find myself sexual attracted to Paul. We have a bond built from a single goal reached months ago. Trent on the other hand, and I do not. It wasn’t forged over a need to find the man responsible for hurting a loved one, or physically having to heal one of mine. It is more than that. The time has come for me to make myself think about what it is. Force myself to comes to terms with my feelings for Trent. The time is drawing near that we will no longer be happy with our passion in mere dreams or astro-projected visits. I have tasted his blood… *head back, eyes closed at the memory and taste of it on my tongue. the fire that filled my veins as his blood coursed from him into me… sighs. focusing once again* I can explain my reaction to the taste of Trent’s blood but it is not a pretty tale nor will it make me out a heroine. In fact, you may look differently upon me after you read it but, it is what makes up the vampire you see today. So if you feel you want to know more, continue reading….

Centuries ago, while hunting with Santiago in the woods, a terrible mis-justice was done to one of Trent and Paul’s kind. At the time, in Europe, were-wolves were the stuff of legends.. or so we thought, until that fateful night. Santiago and I killed a man, a were-wolf, in a blood lust that was beyond comparison to anything we had ever felt and remains the same to this day. This man was twice as strong as any ‘normal’ human, only raising Santiago’s ire and challenging him further until the blood flowed like a crimson river across the leaves that lay on the ground. Unable to withstand the scent I too joined in the merciless killing. It wasn’t until the body lay mangled and torn apart that we both realized what this being was. *stopping now to calm myself from the memory* His body laid in an unusual angle but it was more the look of him past the torn flesh that caused Santiago and I too panic. This man.. this unusally strong being laid at our feet half man, half wolf. In the fight for his survival he had tried to shift to save his life. Against two hungry, blood crazed vampires, it did him no good. We had killed him, together. 

Now, centuries later I find that I am friends.. non, family to just such beings. They accept me into their lives, their homes and their own families without fear of the vampire or the jaguar that make up my existence. Would they still if they knew what I had done? Yes Santiago was there but he has a life in Europe still while I reside in the United States and mix with the same beings that I once killed in a night that changed my existence forever. 

Of course, this is not what attracks me to Trent or allows my friendship with Paul to flouish. Non, this is something very different from then. It is time, as I said, for me to force the true reason up from my consciencesness and examine it in detail. What happened then remains a regret that I carry in the back of my mind when I visit with Paul and Isabella but it does not keep me from my desire and longing to touch and be with Trent. 

*standing up and closing the computer for now I move about the room..restless, feeling her call and rise to the surface… Gia… calling me to go out into the night… whispering Trents name* … Oui, it is time. 

 

Posted via email from His Bella Celeste

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Invisible Connection

What is this magical bond we share?
Au milieu du cirque constante comme avalanche de mots,
Comment saviez-vous?
Une fois que vous avez stable et sûr,
Il est plus vieux, encore fiancée à votre rêve,
Fidèle à l’incertitude,
Un désir d’être libre esprit.
Ses paroles subtiles se loger dans votre pensée.
Pourquoi avez-vous choisi cet inconnu
With a hunger that you can not see?


A young woman’s hair kisses the breeze,
Sa dignité cache la distance dans son regard.
Est-il possible qu’un simple sourire innocent radieux,
Ou un verset fous un heureux hasard,
Pourrait apporter deux personnes si différentes
Là où nous nous trouvons aujourd’hui?
Strangers une fois à notre propre vie,
A l’aise avec la profondeur de notre propre vide,
How unlikely it is that we are here


It’s quiet tonight, light raindrops filter through the leaves
Laver la poussière, libérant des parfums
Sur la douce brise qui adoucit
Le genre de soirée que vous souhaitez vous étiez avec celui que vous aimez
Niché près de la cheminée
En regardant la lune dans le canard et des nuages de coton blanc
Caressant et en se tenant par doucement
Breath silently quivering collect;


Once locked away behind iron clad doors,
Sentiments et émotions remuer,
Déguisé par des couches de la douleur et la ruine
Deux cœurs réveiller.
Une douce, aimante, sachant baiser;
Bound together forever.

Posted via email from His Bella Celeste

Bastiaan di Castello & Celeste dé Morte

Originally posted at: http://tdvcoven.tumblr.com/

Celeste & Bastiaan have been a bonded pair for almost a year now.

On August 22, 2009 Celeste met Bastiaan while helping Aosoth sell her house in Monroe. Their chemistry together sparked from that very first meeting.

Talks of roses ensued, followed by a late night car shopping frenzy just to see her again and then came the first kiss amongst the roses and a phone call that would seal their fates. A call just to hear her as she slept; the nights they didn’t speak all seemed torturously long and those in which they did seemed to end so quickly.

Then on On September 18^th, 2009 Bastiaan spied her jaguar, startled at first he left her home only to soon realize he didn’t care he just loved Celeste no matter what other she also was. After returning to her home and almost knocking down her front door he had her again and on September 20^th, 2009 they blood bonded and she made his dead heart beat again.

Since then, many loving nights have passed; they have seen their adoptive family grow and are currently raising a little prince, Regalien Royal, an English Mastiff pup.

On May 25^th, 2010 he finally asked her to marry him and she happily accepted. This same night two very appreciative parents gifted the pair with a jaguar mate for Celeste’s own. Aosoth in turn decreed her parents’ one night gift to be a permanent side of  Bastiaan’s immortal life.

Now mated, bonded and engaged, the entire coven waits with bated breath for the moment we all joyously celebrate this mortal tradition.

Posted via email from His Bella Celeste

When True Healing Begins

I entered the gardens but stopped short within the first few feet. I felt it immediately. The familiar “pang” I felt last night upon meeting him. Gazing briefly at the roses my eyes finally landing on him, there. 

Harley Masters, the man who had been hired by Lestat and Aosoth to submit a bid for and oversee repairs to their home. We won’t tell that tale right at the moment but save it for another time. (snickers)

He was staring at the beauty that surrounded him. The fragrance was sweet in the air, the roses in such bloom they begged to be touched, crying out for my hand, as they always did when I was among them. This night, my attention was elsewhere. It was not on the blood that ran in this man’s veins or the sins he MIGHT have committed in his short mortal life, but focused on his anguish. His sense of loss could have wilted the strongest of flowers had it not been for it being directed inward. Only I, a Vampire, or one like me could have possibly withstood the great burden he bared. It staggered me and I have stood in the face of such anguish for many centuries.

I stepped closer to this man, not to intrude but to observe more and to take in the emotions he was sending through the air around us. Of course, he wasn’t aware yet of my presence or that he was as an open book for me too read. I preferred to stay among the shadows for now and watch. Over 6 feet he stood, muscular in build, sexy of course and oh so broken. It wasn't something seen by the naked eye but a broken that had been carefully mended, albeit haphazardly, to continue on with a life that had been destined for two and then suddenly cut short to be only for the one. He was gazing at a particular rose. Fascinated by its beauty and transfixed on its color and fragrance. It was a most excellent rose indeed, a prize winning rose... but I am sure that is not what he saw. 

I spoke his name to get his attention, to give him the few moments needed to lock the walls into place that allowed him to face the day to day living he had continued on with after her passing. How did I know his pain emanated from such an event? The answer came easy to me. The only beauty to compare to a rose would be the beauty of a woman. A woman one loves with their whole being and can see nothing in their world unless it is presented through the eyes of that one, true love. Such was the story that over the next hour would unfold.

He and I danced, metaphorically speaking, for several minutes. We spoke of the night, of the gardens and how beautiful it all was. It was a perfect waltz performed by us both and went on until I had the answers I sought from the tone in his voice reverberating around me.

*touching one of the tender petals on a perfectly formed rose* You know Mr. Masters. Roses sometimes need a bit of coaxing before they open up to show themselves, their true selves, to the world. It is much like that with us all, non?

(Listening thinking of Layla) Yes they do.

It is my belief that roses have tender 'hearts' and though their blooms only last for a season, their memory lives on for long after they have closed themselves away and given up to the colder weathers of fall and winter. *looking over at you probing just a bit. your memories there but clouded, sheltered. walking slightly away* You see her here, in the roses.

It was a statement presented to him, not a question asked.

(Head shooting up, shocked how did you know) Yes I do.

She is here. Where you are she will always be, non?

(Nodding yes) I have always felt her with me.

As it should be with the ones we love. Whether here or gone from us their light is always shining.

And finally he spoke that one pivotal question that would turn this night around.

The pain does it ever truly subside?

Pain is immortal, much like Bastiaan and I. It stretches out before you and can be immobilizing.

I know I may never be totally rid of the pain. I have come to grips with that. I don't know. I see Layla in the roses, will I ever see another?

*slight chuckle* I left my crystal ball in my other skirt but to see her here is wonderful, a memory always. You have to allow yourself to see more. Look at that beautiful Sunset Rose there. See it? If you concentrate on its detail and look no further then you will miss the ones to the left and right of it. Much is the same with ones who have passed on.

And so it went that he shared with me his Layla, his heart. Through his eyes I gleaned a beautiful woman with red hair and a splash of freckles across her face, her laughter was like music and he was the audience she played for. His words brought the roses to attention and I watched in fascination as he spoke when one, a perfectly formed February Scarlet all but reached out to touch his shoulder. I gave no mention of such a thing as he went on to explain how he had lost her that fateful day. A day so full of promises that even the great writers of tragedy could not have written so horrific an ending. As he described the events and spoke of the glass that littered the ground where his heart now lay, I watched as this one single rose now shrunk back into formation with the rest, so moved by his words as was I.

The pain of his loss hit me deeply as I remembered the one I too had lost but from there came words of healing and comfort and ones I live by today…

*reaching out tentatively to grasp your hand in mine* I am truly sorry for your pain. *sends the healing from me to you the other reaching out to wipe your tears* Mr. Masters. In those last words all that needed to be said, was. Remember her; hold her memory in your soul. It houses memories of those who have passed before us. Your heart *reaching a hand out to rest it there* is for the living and those who we shall meet along the way. No one is forgotten. I believe that. 

True healing begins when one is ready. This night both man and wolf agreed, it was time to let the wound close and together they could move on. I asked him to walk with me awhile, talk with me and he accepted with a smile. It was no surprise as we turned to walk away from where we had been sitting, that his attention momentarily focused on that one Scarlet February rose and I could not help but smile as I glanced back briefly to see ‘her’ reach out to him once more. 

*to see Harley's exert of the conversation, please click the link*

http://anitaverseroleplay.ning.com/profiles/blogs/layla-1

 

Posted via email from His Bella Celeste

Words I Couldn't Say - Rascal Flatts