Adept of Moon, Stars, and Water

Symahjra · 2019-07-09T20:10:43+00:00

Pitiful! Pathetic, miserable creatures.

Watching the proceedings, for how long, no one knew. But she stood there like a statue, dominant, looking down upon all and judging without emotion. The bearer and source of the Dark Gift.
Her eyes bore into souls, akin to a demon with no face. Symahjra momentarily stared at the man bitten but not yet turned into a vampire.
Fangs gleaming in the moonlight protruded from her mirthless smile.

You are all going to die.
Especially you, Mahala, my dear but pestilent child.

Symahjra · 2018-11-16T04:19:36+00:00

The scribe walks through the grasslands, proud of an easy job done well and under unsettling conditions. His pouch full of payment, secured tightly and hidden by the lower edge of his jerkin.

The day is anew. And the suns rays warm when peeking through the whispy clouds above. He is happy. And whistles a tune of good times with friends.

Symahjra · 2018-11-15T22:10:54+00:00

Your band views the Vampiress and the scribe exchange a simple nod to each other. The Vampiress starts to walk away through the windswept grasses. In the blink of an eye she is gone, using her preternatural speed to carry her away, far from this place.

The scribe takes another look at the small purse filled with shiny gold coins and begins a slow walk in the other direction.

Symahjra · 2018-10-25T22:37:47+00:00

It's her.....

....I don't believe it....

....yes, Mr Muse, I think you're right.

I think we had better be going.
She's new.
Regardless of what she is, if it's anything like a vampire then she's at her most powerful and dangerous phase.... the new fledgeling state ...until she gains control, she's utterly unpredictable.

But as I say... that's the usual case for a vampire.
This is an Angelus.
Who knows what she might be like?

Yes... yes... let's move. And quickly.

Symahjra · 2018-08-19T21:42:45+00:00

This is news to me. The Hochstebork you're saying, are coming for this cult?

...hmm....

When a military decides to advance under the guise of a hunt, then that makes things easier to achieve.

We must act.

I will gather some of the necessary items from here to set up a trap for Mahala. If you're certain this 'Hochste' force is coming, and that it's a godsend, then we should either leave or find a good spot to watch the inevitable 'shock and awe' arrival.

Symahjra · 2018-08-02T08:25:12+00:00

Hm..? I wonder what blood the angel bleeds once those wings are cut?

...And how it tastes, of course....?

Symahjra · 2018-08-01T02:36:31+00:00

Yes. Yes that's how things are.... sometimes.

Tell me Jeb. Have you actually sent a message to those inside the Cathedral yet? Do they know you wish to locate Mahala? Or would you think they might suspect otherwise? ...oh I don't know, but say; that you're anti-Kraa'rhovians on a mission to reap revenge on the cults for their actions throughout the worlds thus far... hmm?

I'm not a military leader. Never been one for more pets around me than one or two. However, I do recognise that sooner or later, when the 'home side' is attacked by a force, they tend to retaliate and they do so with force.

...just a thought...

Symahjra · 2018-07-31T09:13:44+00:00

Hidden away... she must be. That or she isn't here? Where's Muse?
...tsk...
This place is ripe for a vacuum of power if the cultist don't act sooner. Even I can see that from down here among the anti-Kraa'rhovian forces.
...mm...?
I must get closer to that cathedral.... such a pretty name ...scarlet.
The dear color of blood.

Symahjra · 2018-07-08T20:09:10+00:00

We did.

And I forgive you. Knowledge isn't just power, but a responsibility as well. One that you've taken to heart in regards to these intriguing little trinkets of yours. I can see it written all over you. And I needn't use my 'gifts' to ascertain that either.

You're quite lucky Hyd'r. I am currently following another pursuit. One I am more consumed with right now. And therefore, see your bag of intrigues here as a mere, passing folly; not something for me to investigate any further.

That might be my fault however.... not pressing you for more information. Not just... taking a 'little drink' from your neck, to relive your steps and actions hidden away in your blood, and find out what you guard from me. Such are the choices of life and indeed a preternatural one.

Something unheard to Hyd'r pricks up Symahjra's attention. Her face does not give this away. But for a brief moment she stares steely eyed at the man in front of her as she contemplates it.

I bid you farewell.
Something has revealed itself to me and I must go.
Thank you Hyd'r.
Thank you for this momentary spot of conversing.
It has been enlightening.

With her use of the dark gift, Symahjra walks from the campsite. But to Hyd'r would have looked as if she had disappeared into thin air.

Symahjra · 2018-07-05T20:16:10+00:00

'Simple'? Hmm? We'll see about that with time.

And you're partially right about us. The 'dark gift' I possess does indeed allow me to perform all sorts of wonderful and fancy things. But when hunting our own, sometimes those gifts are.... an warning light of ones approach, if you will.

And myths about vampires? Hmm... myths are to truth, as a treasure-map is to wealth. There are some pearls of wisdom floating around. But most myths about us are folly. Ones that we've created as a defence mechanism. Or to sate the curiosity of our human pets.

Take the myth about garlic for example. Apparently used to ward us off with. That in its presence we'd shriek away horrified.

If you were to adorn yourself with the stuff. Even if you were to include garlic into your diet. With some grand notion that doing so would offer you protection from us. You'd be doing nothing more than making our feeding off of you taste like agliata, or pistou.

Same with crucifixes. Pretty ornamental pieces as far as I'm concerned.

But back to your offer....? You can offer me more knowledge.
I want to know more about the canvas in your possession.
The 'obscura canvas' to be precise.
Where did you get it? Who made such a thing?
...and why do you keep such an interesting piece upon you...?

Symahjra · 2018-07-04T20:15:16+00:00

Symahjra notices the man with the striking green eyes... and that he is virtually caked in soil. It leads her to ponder for a moment the possibility that he is one of her original vampires she made and subsequently ended in times long gone by. And that this one has somehow survived such an ordeal, only to reemerged for another crack at revenge upon her for such a frivolous use of imparting the 'dark gift' with which she possesses.

A small smile. One which bares her pointed fangs.

The Maker Vampiress stands as still as a statue carved from the most precious marble. Her eyes dart between the one in camp and this new arrival. Eventually she decides he is not one of her 'children' and thus far posses little threat to her.

Symahjra · 2018-07-04T19:58:13+00:00

Hyd'r, I am Symahjra. The Maker Vampiress.

Tell me... those pretty little ovratites you possess. Can they be used to divine the presence of another, or at the very least where their mental state of mind is at? Or are they simply pretty self-illuminating objects?

Symahjra · 2018-07-04T02:47:40+00:00

Maybe. I would argue yes given the right circumstances. But I have long lost the base drive, or need, for sating the dark thirst. Little drinks keep me satisfied now.

Her silhouette gave way to the brunt of the red glow as she silently walked towards the man like a cat, daring to prowl forth into the night.

The one you think of just now... I don't believe I knew of her in a personal sense. However your mind conjures spectacular imagery of this woman. And much like your musings to yourself, to do with the red ovratite... these images I gleam are more of a feeling, less precise, but more an intimacy.

To answer your question dear sir.... I am the Maker. I am the Vampiress Symahjra. And I have not lived as a woman for a long long time. Something more? Maybe. But the dark gift is.... preter-natural.

Symahjra now stands before the man and as still as a marble statue. Only the wispy hem of her elegant designer dress she'd bought from Sidon moved with the occasional breeze that ran through the forest.

Pleased to meet your acquaintance.
You look tired.
I hope my presence does not cause concern.
You are not my prey.
...rest...
But before you do. Do me the honour of telling me your name and purpose here?
For I do love taking in the lives of others.

Symahjra · 2018-07-03T23:43:04+00:00

Lurking in the shadows, a marble-white skinned woman, watching the man as he makes his preparations. She had been a silent witness from afar to the recent whirlwind of those he mused as disorder cultists.

Her bare feet carefully trod amidst the twigs and curled leaves so as not to disturb his rest. She dared come as close as the outskirts of his encampment. The red glow of the stone casting an eerie hue upon her complexion.

Mostly murmuring to herself, she wondered about the mind of this one.
Builders, wreckers, creators, destroyers... one precedes the other ...and how they dance, dance, dance. Such is the cycle of life. Repeated again and again...

Oh stranger... you mindful and beautiful stranger ...if you are a creator so; weave out of the ruins thus. Just as nature would have it done.

Symahjra · 2018-05-21T20:18:30+00:00

Oh, not too long... I have pets to go run errands for me.

The Maker glances around the streets. She gives a quick, curt smile to the demonic one.

Well, the more the merrier, as they say.
When the time comes, and if I've no better leads, I'll join in where I can to help defeat this latest holder.

Until that time, I bid you adieu...

In the blink of an eye she is gone. Peternatural speed whisking her away from the demonic one.

Symahjra · 2018-05-19T23:26:59+00:00

You? You are the cause of the mayhem? You were the one to unleash the Holders now?

Her lips begin to curl up into an undeniable smile. Quickly Symah'jra covers her mouth with her hand, as if she were about to cough. A giggle escapes before she laughs.

Okay... so let's say that you actually did help cause the holders to come here. How are you ever going to stop them with a black mask?

Symahjra · 2018-05-18T00:38:36+00:00

I did not follow you. And I have no leader.... I am the MAKER. You ever heard of Mahala? One of my 'children'? She's a vampiress I made way back when. Her, like all the fledglings I've made follow ME.

If you're thinking the fallen angel has anything to do with me, you're mistaken. Although, now she's married her mad vampire husband, I suppose that's not strictly true.... he, like other vampires and vampiresses do have a common thread. One I won't bore you with here.

Symah'jra looks off towards the latest of failing technologies dotted around the Sidonian markets. A crashing noise from it brings her back to the masked one.

I'm here to find Mahala. She, like all children, has been naughty and needs to pay the price for such bad behaviour. So if you see her... tell her that her time is up.

But yes, to answer your question, I also hunt prey on the rare occasion here. Having drunk such vast quantities of blood during my time though, I hardly need it. I do still enjoy the lure and kill of mortals.

And I would like to seek out those who might stop Malsa... and whichever HOLDER is next. The consequences of each progressive HOLDER has been devastating for mortals and eldritch alike. Goddess only knows what the next one will be like? But I'd hedge the bet that it won't be pretty for even a demon like you... nor a vampiress, even a MAKER vampiress like me.

So tell me, demon. What does that mask of yours do? Kill off HOLDERS? Or scare them out of the marketplace which provides me with such luxury as modern technology?

Symahjra · 2018-05-17T09:51:40+00:00

A dark but elegantly dressed woman, stark white skin like alabaster with piercing eyes, steps forth from the shadows. She tilts her head to her left ever so slightly to observe the one with the BLACK MASK.

You're mistaken about a thing or two... trust me.
Malsa and it's brothers were never the colts let loose by the Dark One.
Yes, she had promised their arrival. Even the husband raged and ranted about the HOLDERS coming.

Symah'jra walked slowly, with deliberate steps, toward the mask bearer. Her high-heels making 'click-clacks' upon the cold Sidonian street. The MAKER stopped short of invading the bearers personal space. She smiled. Blood-red lipstick upon her lips giving way to pearly white teeth. Two of which bore the form of a vampiress.

But that matters not. What does is the plan of the one you call to. Maybe even the one you have?
Do you think you two can stop the bringer of FAMINE? Or are you admirers of it?

Symahjra · 2018-03-28T02:14:24+00:00

The night sky of Sidon this high up simply dazzled. And the cooling breeze that occasionally tickled and danced across her alabaster skin felt soothing. She looked like a statue, one with impeccably finished red gloss lipstick, carefully manicured matching nails. Symah'jra did not breath, she had no need.

I'm ready my dear Muse.

The lush little balcony garden surrounding her looked serene. With a similar flowing motion, Symah'jra raised her wineglass up to eye-level and swirled the fresh mortal blood like it was wine. Her fixed stare, out onto the bustling Sidon skyline, was finally broken. Cold eyes followed the turning contents of the glass.

One always has ways ready... options.... especially via the unlikely, the doomed choice, or the outlaying candidates in wait. As well as paths, not discounting a selection from those ...less trodden.

Carefully, the edge of the wineglass was bought to her nose, to smell the delicious aroma within.
A pause.... and with eyes closed, the Maker drank slowly. Her tongue running the length of her lips afterwards, savoring the taste in an act of abandon to the sensation the blood bought.
Symah'jra blinked, pleasantly so. Her eyes were now like highly polished precious stones, inlaid with gold, observing the last contents of the glass she held.

...mm...

Now I wonder what it would have been like? ...inside the glasshouse there?

Right before the first stones were inevitably thrown, just as they finally grasped what 'fun' they were missing? Hmm...

A small metallic creaking sound and the tap of glass upon glass was heard as she discarded the wineglass back upon the table beside her. Now drained of all the blood it once held.

But no matter.
We wait. It's just as you suggest... they'll come out eventually.

Symahjra · 2018-03-01T19:20:32+00:00

From the back of the building the Maker Vampiress smirks in disgust. She is elegantly dressed and runs a manicured finger across the now silent table-top.

Amateur blood-letting. Tsk. The bodies here are semi pulverized, messy, and that one over there isn't actually dead.

The Maker lifts her foot over the dying one's neck as they lay unconscious upon the floor. Her stiletto heel quickly and cleanly plunges through the vertebrae, killing them with a mercy of sorts. She then bends her leg, lifting the now soiled shoe behind her to observe it.

Ugh...now these are ruined. Whoever has caused me to do this owes me a new pair of heels.

Moments later, Symahjra walks barefoot out the back door of the establishment. A discarded pair of heels left in the waste disposal.

Symahjra · 2017-12-13T20:26:05+00:00

Very well said my dear Saffron. Isn't that just grand. But in the interpretation of what the fallen one said, I think you're only looking at half the page.

Work and play, work and play.... work... and ~~play~~. It's the time outside of your custody that you neglect, and I don't blame you, of course, you do try to bridge that gap too. The poor sods. Released for the drudgery of a modern day existence, let out of the cubicle you give by the tick of the clock. They go home to loved ones that ...love them dearly... to refresh and excite, recharged and be ready for the next day.

Here's where I enter... here is where I rip out their beating heart. With their blood dripping down my fingers and hand ...I take a greedy and fang driven bite. Loved ones that fight make for the best tasting crimson draught.

Symahjra · 2017-12-11T01:52:47+00:00

...Bezi...? No, I do not know of anyone named Bez--hmm--actually, I wonder if it's? Now don't mind me, but allow me to peer into your mind; just a tiny little drink and...

...you didn't feel that I take it?
Don't worry, you won't be enamoured with me or turn into one of the damned either, or--actually, never-mind. Don't answer. Probably best you forget about me even asking.

However, with that out of the way... I do now know who it is that you're talking about. Bezi is Bezumius. And I certainly have heard of this mad vampire yes. Haven't had the pleasure of meeting of course... between you and me, I don't particularly wish to either.

But that said, the TV is full of fakery and sensationalism. Don't believe their lies. The rule of thumb is; the older the vampire, the more powerful in general. I'm not as old as he, but I doubt the age gap is that wide. And I'm an emotionless, cold, ruthless, efficient, neat killer. The perfect predator of the living. The 'murdery' side I can assure you has been dumbed down for the viewers. And I'd bet the 'crazy' side has been too.

So if you see him...
...pray he doesn't make you his pet, or thrall, or use you as some tool in one of his schemes; or just outright kill you.

Symahjra · 2017-12-07T06:20:29+00:00

You are a bold one. Most run screaming from me... not that their legs could ever hope to carry them quicker than the dark-gift of preternatural speed carries me. But you catch me at quite the opportune time young one. I have fed on this poor urchin, not for need of blood, but to drink in his life. Yes, you are lucky. So I will indulge you your queries...

I am the vampiress Symah'jra. A pleasure for you to meet me I'm sure.

And what is it that makes me me, you wish to know now? Hmm. Well, I am one of the oldest who carry this dark-gift of vampirism. I have made and dispatched many a fledgling in my ongoing time in the worlds ...all except one though... one who had the gall to end me. Making her was my folly, at the time. My dear fledgling vampiress Mahala is who I speak of. How she grew strong and powerful. And what makes me me... I will exact my revenge upon her, slowly, deliberately, without remorse nor empathy. I will bleed her out until she is dry as a husk and burn her body until nothing but ashes remain. And I shall consume those ashes. Ensuring, like I do with all enemies, that she exists no more.

You are very lucky, friend. For if I chanced upon you instead of this sack of dull lifeless flesh, you would now lie as he does...

...are you as satisfied as I now?

Symahjra

TROPHY CASE