a crown of blue fucking flames. this should disturb me. this does disturb me. summer monarch of winter's ice. why me, should be my question, but i know why. someone had to do it, someone had to remove the threat. i'm just surprised it worked. even more surprised at my reaction to the white room. it's no longer white (for now), i made sure of that. it feels good, but strange and scary at the same time. michael looks at me strange. he knows my fears better than i do, but it's like a drug and i'm addicted to the color, the feel of the paint under my fingernails, the weight of my arms from being used, reaching above my head to destroy the whiteness. it begged me, and i cannot refuse.

Mood: drained

another year of freedom.

Mood: thoughtful

My arms feel like lead, I've been swimming for so long. My lungs are burning with the need for air, but I can't reach the surface. There is no sky above me, only rocks... A cave. A dark tunnel. The water meets the rough surface of the ceiling of the cave; there is no air here. I keep swimming, hoping to find a way out. I can't give up yet.

Ouch, my hands meet the end of the tunnel, a wall of rock in front of me. I use the wall to find the surface of the water, gasping and coughing, a bubble of air my saving grace. It's dark, I cannot see. Are they after me? I must find a way out. My arms are so sore, though. I tread water, feeling the wall in front of me, trying to find an escape, but there is none. It is just miles of rough rock. I cannot give up.

There is only one way out, and that is forward. I start clawing at the rock, praying to some unknown deity to give me the strength to make my way out. My fingers begin to bleed, the rock tearing away at skin, tissue, bone. I can tell that I'm making a dent in the rock. The cave doesn't seem as dark anymore. There's blood in the water, I can taste it on my tongue. Oh God, please don't let them find me. They can smell me, the blood a trail leading straight to hell. I scream from the pain, are there any fingers left? I can't feel my arms, my legs, all I feel is pain. Blood and salt is all I smell, taste.

Listen? It's just like in the movies. Duh dun, duh dun. Music in my ears. They're coming for me. They've sent their bloodhound after me. Blood. Sharks, I just know it. I claw harder, more blood from broken fingers. The pain, the blood, there is no escape for me now. My legs refuse to obey, I'm sinking. They're coming for me, they're right behind me. I can feel their teeth on my feet. I scream more, kicking and clawing. Don't let me die like this! My legs, my stomach, my arms, all that's left is a head, gobbled up. I can't see my death, but it's here. Blood and tears, my last memory before the darkness surrounds me.

I wake up screaming, tears running down my face. There's blood on my arms from where I've clawed myself. Ryhoz is nowhere to be found, probably off in his lab or something. I'm used to waking up alone and screaming now. But I'm alive.

Mood: scared

the leaves have all fallen, tiny mirrors shattered and tinkling as they hit the ground. frost and ice arrive to take the place. echo may be home, but she is no longer queen. the title remains in the house, though.

Mood: cold

- In IC posts, when the character writes about "Michael", she is talking about Ryhoz. Michael is the name she has known him by since before they were taken; she doesn't speak it in public.

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woke up this morning with an absolutely horrible headache... i swear it felt like my head was imploding, dynamite exploding in my head kind of hurt. made me want to throw up, and then gouge my eyes out with a spoon. light = bad. finally started feeling better around lunchtime.

michael woke up with a headache too this morning. if i didn't know better, i'd say we had hangovers or something, but he said they were migranes. never had one, but i've heard of them. don't need another one, thank you.

it's been getting colder outside, and i love it. i miss the snow of new hampshire. there is still a month until the change of seasons, and i have to wonder what will happen. it snowed this morning apparently, but damned if i wasn't curled up in a ball of pain to be able to see it.

Mood: indifferent

two crowns, one season. ryhoz and smythe. ryhoz versus smythe. i hope not, because i do not want to see who would win. they say one is old, and one is new, one crown for the ancient freehold, and one for the current one. in theory, neither will have to beat the other, i would hope.

the question then becomes... what happens when winter arrives? and then, question: will echo return home by then? i believe she's able to escape wherever she is, but there's nothing worth fighting to come home for. he treated mira like shit. i tried to be kind to her, took her places and let her do stuff. i wanted to send her away to school to protect her from the others around here. he went about it all wrong, and she's gone. i am surprised that cps has not called already. i want to go to the town the school is in and put up posters, but i don't want to bring attention to her or echo... and michael is no help at all. especially now, that he's got a shiny thing around his head.

yesterday... nobody died, and nobody new showed up. i have to be thankful for that.

Mood: frustrated

has it already been a year? a year since i was found.

FREEDOM

not quite free, i'd say. not like those people out there. they work, they play, they go to movies and to the mall and to school. even michael has more freedom than i. he has a job. he goes out and comes home. he travels. me? i'm too scared to even leave this hallow without him.

mira is going to drive me nuts, i can tell. now that school is out, she's going to be around the apartment more. perhaps i'll show everyone and find echo myself, with mira's help. though i'd probably get lost in the hedge and never find my way home.

Mood: aggravated

echo, where for art thou? i know you were there, but we missed you. we were too late. you're sitting in a goblin market now, somewhere, all nice and shiny and sparkling. come home, before you get taken back. i want to come find you, but the mistress will find me if i go to the goblins. i can't go back, i know you'd understand.

michael's been acting funny. he's not sleeping right, and he had some sort of creeping crud about him. bugs in his skin, he said. i couldn't sleep without him there, so i busied myself, painted one of the walls of my studio red with blood. he won't notice, he won't enter. the bugs are gone, he said, so we're back in that nice, warm bed... but he still isn't sleeping well. waking up screaming some nights. my dreams must be spreading to him.

sometimes i miss the snow. playing in it with abby back home in new hampshire. i wonder how abby's doing now. did she ever come looking for me after we disappeared? does she have any children? i bet she has a daughter, adorable with blond hair just like her mommy. abby was always the pretty one.

Mood: melancholy

i couldn't help it. i took it out from under the mattress. it felt so good in my hands... the firmness of the wood. the softness of the bristles. like an old friend. i don't want it to feel good. i want it to hurt. i want it to feel like a thousand tiny pinpricks. like shards of glass tearing through my skin. it's how i feel about it all. it hurt so much, but she wanted more. more. it was never enough. she'll find me if i do it. i know she will.

lost isn't a good word for us. how about found?

Mood: envious

This journal is for my Changeling, Teleri. I had to give her a separate journal than my vampires, because she (Teleri) wants to write and write and write, but I doubt my regular readers would like to read what my changeling has to say. lol Seriously, though, this character has taken over my brain, for real!

Anyway, my name is Amanda and my Camarilla # is US2003011070. Teleri is a sanctioned character residing under the Domain of Hampton Roads VSS. She is a Wizened Artist. More information can be found on her wiki.

This journal will be for all IC and OOC posts from and about Teleri (and Changeling in general). No post should be taken as IC information except by the players of Echo (RL: Jada) and Ryhoz (RL: Retro), her twisted motley family. All OOC posts will be clearly labeled as such.

THIS JOURNAL IS RATED R. The Camarilla requires members to be of age 18 or older to participate.

Mood: accomplished

This information is OOC. Please do not use it ICly.

( Pre-Capture )

( Time in Arcadia )

( Escape )

( Aftermath )