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Post by Namahri Faith McCoy on Sept 12, 2012 9:53:46 GMT -5
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Continuing its monotone and rather subltle noise, the clock sitting on the wooden table told how many minutes had passed, perhaps even squandered away. The sky was dark, hues of deep purples, blues, and greys. To human eyes, it would seem only to be a solid shade of black, but her eyes saw differently. They perceived and could enjoy the rather gothic color scheme that Mother Nature had created in the atmosphere. A deep, concentrated broke away from the twinkling fabric of night and back to the pages that lay in front of her.
The wall of text entertained her mind, spinning a web tales that she only wished were real. Granted, she was living in a world that just as unbelievable as those in the stories she had read throughout her life. In the world, in reality, there were things that went bump in the night -- vampires and lycans that constantly struggle for power, dominance. Most humans remained completely unaware of the creatures that surrounded them on a daily basis. They were co-workers, bosses, customers, friends. Some were family. There were mothers, fathers, even siblings. Their identities were kept hidden, protected, guarded. It was such an unpredictable moment when people like her told someone they loved what they were, what they were considered, their nature. Not everyone was so accepting of such people; only a small few cared, and even smaller few were interested in helping. She couldn't blame them. To know such a thing was already a burden, but to want to protect the unnatural? That was beyond what was expected.
Namahri quietly sipped the white chocolate latte she had gotten at the Starbucks just down the street. The warm, sweet liquid ran down her throat with ease, a small lips of her supple lips as she set the styrofoam cup down. The vampire sat, her legs brought up to her chest with the book in between. One hand twirled a loose strand of platinum blonde hair, while the hazel eyes continued to scan the page, line after line. Aside from the ticking and the frequent page turns, the place was quiet. All, save for the librarian, had gone home to their families or pets. The quiet had calmed her once reeling mind, the thoughts that had blurred her focus now hushed and locked away for this small amount of time. Another turn of a page was accompanied with another sip of her deliciously sinful latte.
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Post by Alejandro Cepero on Oct 11, 2012 14:52:41 GMT -5
Ah the library, Alejandro smiled as he looked upon the large building. Alejandro was glad that at least these institutions had not gone by the wayside in modern society. So much these days was taken for granted, so much information constantly pelting people, yet as they became more and more knowledgeable, they became less and less wise. Or perhaps humans have always been unwise? Regardless, there was great wisdom hidden in these gems, and Alejandro was here to return a good few of them.
They were old books, mainly about colonial america. Captain Bernal's account of the conquest of the aztecs, unabridged (he grew up with a castillian spanish very similar to what Captain Bernal had spoken), Hernan Cortes' memoirs, etc. He loved the old books, and had learned alot from reading them. Walking into the library, he took a deep breath, inhaling the wonderful scent of old paper in books that laid on row upon row of shelves...
There was another scent mixed in though, one very faint, and if one did not know (or could not even realize it) it one would never had picked up on it. It was the scent of a supernatural. Hmm, interesting. Another vampire was here tonight? How odd, most vampires he met either had large collections on their own (and did not need the library) or had no interest in reading, only in vain pursuits. He looked around, and it took Alejandro all of a minute to find her.
He walked over to the woman and sat in the chair across the table from her, well dressed in his fine grey suit with black shirt. He laid his books on the table, and looked at the cover of the book.
"Interesting choice." Alejandro said at the vampiress, who was clearly absorbed in her reading. He looked at her with a soft expression on his face, but bore no smile, nor frown. It was simply... neutral. Looking around a second, seeing that no one else seemed to be around, he spoke quietly.
"Not a lot of prey for a vampiress in a library no? Or do you prefer the bookish types?" He asked, his voice thickly laced with his Spanish accent, his eyes flashing red momentarily, so rapidly no human would have noticed, as if to show her he was a vampire as well. "Or are you one of the few exceptions who can actually control herself?"
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Post by Namahri Faith McCoy on Oct 24, 2012 9:26:04 GMT -5
Namahri continued to read her book, the words embossing her mind in their tale. They wove and created pictures that would allow any person to experience a world that could and would never be. Perhaps only on some far away planet in a far away universe could contain such fantasies and whimsical existence. Oh, how life then would seem much sweeter and more accepting than what they lived in. However, such a wonderous place may not accept her or any other being from earth; their presence to that place could be deemed unworthy and they'd be sent back to where they came -- a terra of corruption and disregard. That place that had been fabricated in her mind seemed only accepting of the most innocent of creatures: children. Such a plane of reality could only be enjoyed by such purity and innocence; but, again, what place would this be and how would one find it? It was all just a thought caused by desire to find such a beautiful and glorious place that the vampire acquired while reading her book in the library, sipping often on her coffee.
What illusion had been concocted was shattered, simply shards of broken glass in her mind's eye as a man spoke up. His voice disrupted the world she so desperately wanted to live in. The vampire looked up, eyes glaring at the man from over the top edge of the novel in her hands. The henna globes quickly picked up on the swift hue of red that overtook his own gaze. He, too, was of the supernatural, and such was not going to harm her.
The vampire tilted her book down, bringing it close to her torso and the table. She kept eyes locked with the Spanish inquisitor, her own being cold and harsh in a pre-response. If she were to simply assume that every vampire that walked the streets prowled on humans, she would have not lived this long, and quite frankly she found the question rather rude. They were almost accusing. Vampire or not, this man was coming off rather cocky and rude, not something that Namahri, a woman raised by elegance, grace, and manners, did not appreciate.
Hushed, the woman replied,"So quick to judge a book by it's immortal cover, I see." There was a brief pause as the libarian coughed into her sweater, the noise filling the library. Namahri continued on,"I do not prey upon the living. It's inhumane and not many would be accepting of that particular choice. I would prefer not to be slaughtered for needing to satiate my thirst. Besides, I do not think anyone unwilling likes being changed. It does more damage than good, especially when there are many who simply leave what they've created without thought. Our kind does not need more of the intameable younglings. They are a danger to ourselves and others. I refuse to be a part of that." The vampire gave a huff of annoyance as she moved her gaze to the window next to her, looking out at the starry sky for a moment. Within seconds, the vampiress returned the icy gaze to the man before her. "Do you always ask vampires this or do you only ask those who seems guilty of some sin?"
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