Watchful - Night Island

I see why Armand loves his night Island. His rooms here at "Il Villagio" have given me an agreeable refuge since I made him leave. I come and go as I please, feed selectively and without sport. My mission of discovery comes together slowly. Nicki, Quinn and my vexing little Amadeo. How busy they are and becoming firm friends it seems. Maybe the Theatre will be one promise that Amadeo actually succeeds in keeping.

He's everywhere here. In the walls, in the soft silk bed linen that I am now wrapped in, the ripe little mortals who work here, speak the name Marius. Amadeo's Marius? It must be, I feel a great power in the air, as if time knows it's place and purpose. Strangely, I am drawn to Marius almost as much as I am to Armand. The Master is a way to know my redhaired tormentor better. Maybe, in his wise counsel, I can begin to fill the gaping holes in my memory at last. Perhaps even be a pupil again. 

I know, I am surprised too, but I know he will not judge me for loving Amadeo. He cannot loath that that he also feels, after all.

The void of love

After I ran into the rain, that dreaded Paris night. The night on which I am told I attacked Nicolas. There was nothing in my mind but the sea and the calling of EVERY blood-hunter within hundreds of miles. How can a vampire awake after four months , with no memory?   Nicki is weak now because of me and lonely, so lonely.

I decided to tackle the situation with gusto and ordered my manservant "Adonis" to purchase every book written by a vampire in the last 20 years. I then applied myself to reading them, one by one. I read Lestat's  and found it funny and refreshing, though woefully self indulgent.  I read them all.

Forgive my lack of review for the other little efforts. You see, when I got to 'The Vampire Armand' I was entranced. His life is so much like mine, we are both of us artists, both sold for our beauty. Our master's are few yet our lovers many. We are twins, in the most unlikely way.  
As I read, I felt  I had heard his words before, so willful and bold. I could see his bow-like mouth as it spoke the words to David Talbot. Half trying to shock with his own brand of hunger.  In my mind, I felt I KNEW what he might say or do next. I remember saying outloud "So like my Amadeo..." and then catching myself mid-sentence. I had never met Armand and yet somehow, I loved him completely.  Adored every strand of his perfect curls.

His voice was calling me to come to Night Island, find some solace from poor Nicki's madness. From the moment I saw Amadeo, it was like going home. He was (and remains) perfect and sweet.  Is it wrong that I felt at home in his arms, at peace? He  covered me with kisses and then called me master? How could this be? Be so right....so soon and true to my ears?

I should have known that I am not allowed to adore anyone, for my beloved. whom sang to me of a life I felt I knew. Had already betrayed me... In the arms of QUINN....My QUINN...

Now Nicki and Quinn await death and my hand and I have caste Armand from his own Island. Who truly knows me? Why do I love so utterly and so blindly in this case, what is this song that I hear?  Something is missing...so much to learn. I must face them both and face myself.

5th March 08 - reminded of the Rubicon

This tome of mine must now record in my wakeful mind I am hearing things, voices in the daylight hours. I can do naught but listen, for sleep will not come to me until I answer their call. Blood-hunters from every corner of the world are writing to seek my counsel.

Vittorio di Ranriani, in a hand fair and bold, has written. We are both of us alone. He sends his likeness to my mind, like all of the blood-hunters that call to me, he is truly beautiful. He remembers Rome as I remember it. I fear though, he would not admire the raw brutality of my increasingly frequent rages. Yet, my instincts tell me that he knows nothing of the friendships, wars and politics that rattle on between the immortals of Paris, New Orleans and even Naples itself. Ahhh, what a blessing that must be.

My dear Tome, it is my own greed that has led to this. My scream rang out on that dark day in Paris, when I took the blood of Nicolas Lenfent - with it came an endless, seamless ocean of ebony silk. I know now, that as his blood seared through me, my actions rang out to to every immortal soul that had ever known or heard his name.
My selfish hunger has sent Nicolas insane again and there are those who would seek to profit from that. Now that I have taken his blood, I feel the possibility of treachery more keenly than ever.

Whom am I to trust now? Vittorio's is but one voice in many that now call me to them - in all politeness they reach out. How am I to know if they fain interest, while secretly planning some cold revenge for my actions?

Arion. My love, grant me peace in in your arms. Venga a casa! Commodo adveho domus!

The seamless sea

Have five months really passed? I confess, I am in a haze.

All was silence in my black mausoleum, the life of the swamps cackling above me. My dreams, invaded by the curious calling of a sea-bird. My memories so vague and incomplete. Paris,Nickie, fire... Lestat laughing. I remember the rain lashing my face as I ran. Remember too, taking flight above Paris. The emotions I felt made no sense, so wanting to be away from Nicki, to bury myself in the earth of my swamps once again. I had no memory of what had gone before. Only that I was suddenly alone, trudging seemingly nowhere and getting nowhere. What was the point to it all? Why was I not blessed with death?
These feelings were new to me and very much not my own. I love the blood hunters life or un-life, if you will. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could recall a visit to Nicolas. There had been a curious silence between us then an unfathomable blinding rage... After that, I remember nothing but silence and the familiarity of my hungry crocodiles waiting to be fed - as I must feed.

So, it was that woke me - hunger? For blood or answers, it didn't seem to matter which for my mind was so full of voices and questions. More than one of my children was awake, I could feel them. How was that possible? Quinn gave me nothing! Pierre, everything! We had a connection of destruction and violence that fed my soul. From this great distance, he was trying to be mindful of my presence and impress me - my blessed Pierre! Even as I forced my way through the earth, I knew that Quinn must be actively seeking me out, at last! His energy was so defiant and pure compared to Pierre's.

It was all too much! Weakness from not feeding, this black unfathomable sadness and Quinn barking at me from the ether! Pounding with my fists, I finally tasted air and gasped to find the names, calling out "Quinn, Nickie, Pierre!!" In one strange, garbled scream.

How I loathe the light

As you may know, my computer has died a death. I am now reduced to booking a late evening slot at a cafe or library. I loath the public and how nosey they feel it is accepable to be. Soon though, I will be back on a new lap top!

My home is a buzz of new life! New faces and old. Lestat is like a ghost, I know he watches the goings on. His vanity will not permit him to ignore us. Louis and Nicki are there! Louis AND Nicki. Opon my stars, I am thrilled. I wanted them all and so they have come! The deadly games I shall witness from afar! Be sure, I am watching! Soon I shall dance at my court! Heee!

Lestatdelioncourt.com

I know my site is quiet at this time. However, there are other places I frequent and I have some darling sparing partners at this places. In recent weeks a "Lestat De Lioncourt" has come into my social network. Of course, he adores himself & advises his beloved followers to "lick me to the point of delirium if they wish"

The sun is up so I will keep this short. At one of my haunts, he pointedly asked me to visit his home at Lestatdelioncourt.com I did just that and now, all his blessed little minions are crying "who is Petronia?"
One poster named "The Shadow" seems very interested in Lestat's opinion of me. The site regulars accused him of being me!
I can assure you, dear readers. I have no idea who this Shadow fellow is. However, it is nice to cause a stir every so often. I will also add that I am not a sad person seeking attention. Anyone who knows me will tell you, I value my privacy. In going to the site I was simply answering a call that Lestat himself put forth for me.

I now await his answer. I will update as and when. I feel sure this stew will thicken the more it is stirred

Chaos is raining.

I know I have been gone a long time. I went away to recover my mind. We moved Yuber somewhere safe. He sleeps still and I fear, will continue to do so for the foreseeable future. When he sleeps, all is safe and still; so still. Yet, it is too quiet. There's a expectant air, as if the air itself is waiting to pounce on us all. This oppressiveness nearly sent me back to my tomb on Sugar Devil Island. Oh, how it's cold black marble called to me.

However, I went back to England. Hunted unseen in clubs, parks and in ever awake London. There is a new Prime Minister, widely considered a bumbling fool it seems. The weather in England was at once sunny & black, with some of the most extensive flooding in the the countries history. The English blame "Global Warming" but in reality (fragile as it is) there is a silent war being fought between Chaos and Order. Even as he sleeps, Yuber battles to maintain the balance of things. The weather is just the beginning, beware my darlings. There is more to come, I feel it.

I do tire of moving around so but I must. When I am with him changes occur to my being, barely noticeable at their onset now, so much stronger. He is with me, sharing his gifts and letting me taste his destiny; as if it is to become my own. Every flash flood, storm or bomb that happens - is Chaos correcting the balance of all things. I see it in every blink of my eye, we are merging slowly. It is to be, that the burden of humanity rests not only with the Scion but increasingly with me.
How am I to protect something I revile? People are cattle to me, toys and nothing more. I crave him, what I had with him. Yet, if he awakes. The forces that seek to end all things will set in motion a chain of events so dire, that there will be nothing. Simply an end.